Another night in the top bunk, but I slept alright despite needing to climb down a few times during the night for the bathroom.

Outside? Fog. Thick fog. I could barely see the ocean but the route veered away anyway and took a route through thick, tropical forests and gardens. We seem to be walking through a series of vegetable gardens and green houses. It’s quite lovely…I enjoy seeing all the food growing. Even better? The morning smelled like basil.

We had a mile or so on the slick wooden boardwalk before transitioning to cobblestone. Both surfaces are impressive feats of engineering. The boardwalks make up 80% of the route so far, si much work must go into keeping it up in this damp costal environment! But it keeps the sand out of my shoes and ill take it. The cobblestones look like they were all cut by hand and gridded out into patterns. Wow. I have to much respect.. although I can only imagine it would be torture on my neck if I was driving on them.

Speaking of my neck, it’s doing ok! There are times when I can feel every bone in my spine with each step, but I’m managing without popping pills all day long.

Mid-morning found me in the beautiful little village of Apulia when it was just about time for a break. I tried a new style of baked good with my coffee to my stomach’s delight.

On my way out of the cafe, some other pilgrims that actually talked to me! I met Adrian from Rugby, England and and Ignacio from Madrid. I sat and chatted with them for a while, and later down the way, while I was getting a stamp for my passport, they walked up, and we ended up traveling together for the next few hours. This is how I was expecting it would go. The two met last year on the French Camino, became friends, and planned this walk together. We came upon a few other pilgrims at a café around lunchtime time and ended up joining them for a beer. The girls were here from Belarus, and it was so nice chatting with them and walking for a bit.

They all seemed on a mission to get to the next hostel asap, and I didn’t want to, so when the path took us close to the sea once again I dipped off, found a bench, took my shoes off and ate the rest of my pizza from dinner last night. I am really happy to have folks to walk with, but I didn’t want to be done for the day at 1pm. I’ll be super early again as it is, but there is a pool where I’m staying tonight, and I packed a swimsuit just for the occasion 💃

After airing out my feet a bit I decided to dip them in the ocean and got an ice cream from a little stand. Ahhh, bliss! The sun had come out a few hours ago, so the day was perfect for some sand between the toes.

I didn’t have far to go after my ice cream break, and the last mile was along a busy road where I tried not to get squished.

The hostel is the best one yet. Very clean and white, and there were several bunk rooms but no bunk beds. Whew. Im not a big fan of the bunk beds. I put on my suit for a swim and met Janet and Jim from Ohio. The water was too cold to really swim, so I had a nice time chatting with them for a while. Later, I was in the lounge when another American came over asking about my shirt. I had on my “2024 National Public Lands Day” shirt from the last trail work trip I led about a year ago in Steens Mountain…. right as I was getting sick. Bill was another American out with his hiking partner, Michelle. I ended up joining them, and later, the other American couple joined us, and we had a great time sipping wine, eating dinner, and watching the sun set. Today was a wonderful Camino experience…it’s the people, like it is on most trails, that make the experience come alive. ❤️

After a solid night of sleep, I went downstairs to the breakfast Maria had prepared. As she usually has up to four guests per night, there was no way I could eat the whole spread: fruit, yogurt, cereal, bread, eggs – but I did my best 😁

I had a lovely chat with my hostess – she had just moved to Vila Chã from Porto this spring and started hosting hikers soon after. She had tried the Camino herself until an injury took her off the way, and now she brings the Camino to her! I told her about the trail angel culture in the US and assured her she qualified. She offered me help at any point along the trip, especially since Santiago is only an hour or two drive away
🤯.

We talked a bit about the heavier things in life… the reason I was out here and hiking without a pack, and she shared her struggles with the death of her husband. She advised me not to focus on the past, including the possibility of getting sick again, and instead go forward. She is so right. There are many metaphors out there, but each step on the Camino is a step forward. Pam, my friend at home who is about 6 months ahead of me in her healing cancer journey, likens it to white water rafting. Instead of looking at the rocks you don’t want to hit and will surely cause disaster, look at the way through – the green tongue. And in skiing trees, the very first thing Kirk taught me, look for the openings: look where you will go, not where you will smash into branches. So yes, I’m looking forward. I’m taking the chemo port out and living as if there is a tomorrow.

I was back on the boardwalks this morning and enjoyed the quiet of dunes and waves before reaching the next large town of Vila do Conde, where I would enter the city for a short spell away from the sea. Surfers tried to catch waves before I got to town, and the numerous signs made me look up the Portuguese word “onda,” especially since I was wearing my “Get ONDA trail” Oregon Desert Trail shirt today. Turns out it means wave. Hmmm, “Get wave trail” – not the best translation, perhaps “Get on the wave?” Or “The wave is the trail?” 🤔

Once in town, I had many choices of where to go, and it being time for a coffee and sit-down, I went in search of a cozy spot and found Villa Cake, where I indulged in a chocolate éclair today instead of my usual custard pastry. I’ve been eating pretty modestly, outside of my morning indulgences, but I definitely need to splurge on a nice seafood dinner one of these days…I’m surrounded by the freshest of fresh!

A few stands of jazz escaped onto the patio where I enjoyed my morning treat, and it prompted me to put on the Kind of Blue album that I used to listen to all the time in college. That will be some nice company as I walk through town.

Because I chose to stay in town instead of walking directly to the coast, I enjoyed a glimpse into day-to-day life in coastal Portugal. This is a tourist seaside town which features a casino of all things!

Once back on the waterfront, I walked up to a couple who were wearing Hyperlight packs… a Maine company, asking if they were from the states, and sure enough, they lived in Denver. Earlier in the day, I chatted with a fellow who was wearing Altra shoes and a Gossamer Gear pack. He was from the Czech Republic and said he had met so many Americans out here, and said I must visit Prague… I’d love to put that on my list, for the travel bug has bitten! An old friend from Portland, Barbara, is Czech. Perhaps I could look her up for a visit?

The rain, or drizzle, started again after lunch, but it was intermittent and warm enough that I quickly overheated in my layers of gear.

Tonight, I will be staying in a relatively new Auberge, back to the dorms for me!

I’ve been medicating myself with memes on my breaks, and I loved this one:

My friend Dana sent me a Frida Kalo book that I haven’t started yet. I’m eager to get into it when I get home!

Fast forward to my Auberge experience..ok, I 100% understand and support walking without a planned lodging option each night, but I was the LAST to check in for my reserved spot at 4pm. AND many pilgrims were turned away from the place. I got to the lodging “late,” but when I went into the bunk room, people were just listlessly lying there with nothing to do because they needed to stop so early to get a place to stay. Coupled with the fact that many places here don’t open for dinner until 7 or 8pm, and I’m like, WTF? What do you do for HOURS before dark, or dinner, or whatever? I sat in the lounge and chatted with a gentleman from Austria who is hiking this route for the third time, having hiked the French route 3 times already too, and I just don’t understand stopping so early if there is nothing to do and people aren’t hanging out? They are on their phones? What am I missing? And I’m on my phone because there is no one to talk to…I invited my bunk mates to the pizza place down the street, and no one took me up on the offer. Ok, to be fair, I get there and it’s closed for another hour…I like to eat dinner at 5pm, so American! I’m in bed by 8 or 9pm, what’s wrong with that? Not sure what the purpose of this rant is, other than this is not the place for early birds. I guess I’m the one who needs to do the adjusting 🤔

The rain started, so today will be wrapped in plastic, strike that….I will be wrapped in plastic. This is why I brought a zip lock of zip locks, my raincoat, umbrella, and rain pants. I decided to forgo the pants as it seems more of a warm drizzle than anything, plus I’ll be able to put on dry clothes tonight. What luxury!

I walked over the bridge spanning the harbour at Rio Leca, and was enticed by a café with a covered porch claiming they would stamp my pilgrim passport. Done! I needed my daily cappuccino and pastry anyway. This pastel de nata was much more custardy than yesterday… I will be an expert on these before Im done!

The drizzle continued all morning and made for a mysterious walk. Fog obscured much of the landscape, but I could tell the sea was turbulent today. I was on a wooden boardwalk for the most part, and stepped carefully because I know wet wood is among the slickest surfaces out there.

Today was much less urban, and the path took me through dunes, past many historical markers, and small little villages. We are still on the outskirts of Porto and a note in the guidebook about a metro stop into the city remind me of that. Anywhere is walkable if you have the time!

My body is holding up, although there is an ache in my lower back that has been haunting me since I loaded up my lumbar pack for a test run last week. It’s manageable, but I took some pain meds at a morning tea break. I can’t drink coffee and eat pastries all day…I dont think my body will like me much, so I was on a quest for a nice salad for lunch.

Still not much interaction from folks, but in the spirit of being in the moment and receiving what is given, I will continue in my solitary bubble, grateful for the chance to be with my thoughts.

And I found my salad! Right when the sun came out and the sky dried up, I sat down for a rest in a beach café and ordered a nice green salad. They like to put corn on the salads here, no complaints here! I was doing some reading and realized my stay tonight was at a bed and breakfast, or in a woman’s home. Check-in time wasn’t until 6:30pm, so I had gobs of time and had already walked over half of today’s mileage. Again, I could have walked more, but am staying with the itinerary I had already mapped out. It would be a real hassle to change it now with the luggage transfer and all…

So the afternoon was quite lovely, and I even popped open my sun umbrella for a while.

I walked through the charming village of Vila Cha and found a place for a bite and more reading before I could check in. I was surrounded by local families, which was quite nice, and lingering at a table for an hour or two was quite common, so I felt comfortable in my daudle.

When I arrived at Maria’s house, I found I was the only guest, quite a nice change after having been crammed in small rooms with lots of bodies the last few nights. I showered and used my travel heating pad on my neck and shoulders. What luxury!

Well, it already happened: the crying at the cathedral part of this trip.

Let me set the scene for you: it was about an hour before sunset. The ocean was out of sight, but the sun had that look about it…that look of a coastal sunset where the light and air just felt sea breezy.

A woman was playing the violin, and tourists continued to come and go from the cathedral’s views over this ancient city. I just couldn’t stop the tears from streaming down my face. There was something about the moment, and not just the moment when the 30 + hours awake hit me; the moment was probably a combination of almost dying – but not, and being alive, here in Portugal, on the verge of another long walk. I was sobbing at the wonder of it all.

I know I will grapple with these big emotions while on this walk: Why me? Why did I live? Why did I get better so fast? Will I get just as sick again? And it felt lonely being up on the cathedral cobblestones, watching the sun set behind the Atlantic Ocean, not knowing a single person in the city…but I also knew that would change quickly once I met other pilgrims, once I told my story, and once I walked to the next town. But today, it was ok to be alone. Something in this journey had to be experienced alone, and these were my truths to grapple with. As I marinate in them, in the messy, traumatic, and joyful juices of them, I know I’m not alone, that all of you out there are wishing for the best and have my back, and I can feel it. Thank you.

I’m writing this the next day, and am sitting in a silent hostel well before sunrise, sitting on a couch that overlooks the Sao Bento train station. The view is a portal into other trips that will be taken today, and it seems appropriate, watching people get on and off the train – we are all on a journey.

Back at home, before heading off, the past week had been filled with packing and repacking. Switching out gear and switching it back again; I’m sure I’ll still have some regrets about what I did or didn’t bring, but that is the way it is – this type of travel is new to me, and as I’m finding on my first day in Porto, I’m quite glad I threw in things like my little Freerange phanny pack so I had something to walk around town with to play tourist instead of my hulking lumbar pack.

And the fun began as soon as I got on the plane in Newark. Portuguese families sat all around me, and I had no clue what the barrage of quick foreign words meant….especially because I abandoned the Duolingo Portuguese lessons about a month ago when I realized I’d be spending more time in Spain than Portugal. I didn’t have the bandwidth to learn both new languages, so instead, I learned none.

We arrived mid-morning in Porto, and I successfully navigated their metro system to take a train into the city center. I stumbled on the Mercado do Bolhão, a market of culinary delights, where I had my first Pasteis de Nata (a traditional Portuguese custard pastry) and some kind of savory pie bites. I walked around and oogled at all the fresh fruits, seafood, spices, wines, and more.

I still had my suitcase in tow, and next found a sporting goods store to buy some hiking poles before going to the hostel and dropping my luggage…the roller wheels don’t take to cobblestone too well, and it was all cobblestone, narrow streets, and threading between bewildered tourists…me being one of them, of course!

I finally found the hostel, which is in the train station, and from there headed out to find the cathedral and the beginning of my pilgrimage. I walked in circles, chasing steeples, but steeples were in every direction in this hilly town. Instead of the cathedral, I found cute cafes in the nooks and crannies of this puzzle of a city (did I say ancient? It’s one of the oldest cities in Europe). There was so much to look at, and with the sun and steep cobblestone streets added in, I found myself wilting.

I didn’t sleep at all on the red eye to Porto. I even bought a fancy new pillow that was supposed to keep my neck in a good position while sitting upright, but sleep didn’t come.

When I finally found the cathedral, I almost didn’t go in, but then decided I would at least try and get my pilgrimage passport and save a step tomorrow when the grand journey began. I stood in line and sat in awe of the history for a while while I gave my tired body a rest.

Later, finally at check-in time at the hostel, I climbed into my second-story bunk (not stoked on that!) and took a short nap.

I emerged as the day was cooling and found a spot to have some port (as one must do in Porto!) and ordered what sounded like cheese dip and some bread to go with, but instead I received bread and what looked like doritos covered in tomato sauce and melted cheese…with a fork. Ok, not quite what I was expecting, but I ate the chips and drank small tastes of white and the traditional red port while strains of Madonna played in the background. I wonder if they changed the music just because I’m American?

Then back to the cathedral where we started this post; I was back at the hostel before dark, and climbed into my bunk, for the day had ended. Finally.