SECOND OF THE “FORGOTTEN” CAMINOS
It seems highly appropriate to begin transferring from my little journal about the Portuguese inland camino from Oporto to Santiago de Compostela on PORTUGAL DAY, June 10th.
Afonso Henriques was proclaimed the first King of Portugal in 1139 and the country remained a kingdom for almost 800 years thereafter, until 1910 making it the oldest-country of Europe.
Portugal Day 2020: Every year, Portuguese people across the globe celebrate Portugal Day on 10th June. The day marks the death of Luís de Camões on 10th June, 1580.
Camões is considered to be Portugal’s greatest poet. He is best known for his work “Os Lusíadas”, the national epic poem of Portugal that celebrates the nation’s successes and rich history, dedicated to King Sebastian who died in the Battle of Alcazarquivir in Morocco.
The day is about the celebration of Portuguese culture, heritage, traditions and food. This celebration is not limited to Portugal alone. With Portuguese folk scattered around the globe, different customs have appeared: festivities in Macau are still vivid despite the area being handed over to China by Portugal in 1999; celebrations in Brazil, Canada, and other parts of the world remind people of the Portuguese people and their culture.
On a currently topical note:
Portugal was the first European nation to participate in the transatlantic slave trade
Portugal was a major player in the global slave trade, taking slaves from West Africa to the Americas. It was also the first colonial power to abolish slavery, some 50 years before Britain, Spain, France, and the United States.
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THE PORTUGUESE INTERNAL CAMINO SEPTEMBER 2012, 260km TO GO
A group consisting of myself – a retired headteacher, Mac , another retired HT; Dave Jones, former owner of the Sutton Runner and his wife,Teresa, a vicar in Solihull,; Edwina, retired special needs teacher and her husband Geoff, a retired police officer, congregated at Stansted airport to take a flight to Oporto.
To avoid the Oporto suburbs ,Colin Jones CSJ Chairman and Camino organiser, had booked us in to a
Residencial some way out of the city. By taxi it was 12 euros for the six of us. We met up with Colin and a colleague of his, Simon, who was a vicar from Perry Beeches – in a parish there for 21 years! He had more than a passing resemblance to the images one sees of John the Baptist – and on a brief introduction seemed a pleasant guy. They had reached Oporto after walking the Camino from Lisbon, two weeks previously.
We were directed by Colin to the DOLORES restaurant nearby, where we were assured of a good welcome and meal. It was great meal and I was pleased to reacquaint myself with Vinho Verde and a couple of glasses of port. Boa Saude!
An early start for the first day’s walk, leaving at 08.00. Mac and Colin looking at the route.
An incongruous statue at the front of the Residencial.
Not an ideal walking scenario to start with as we walked along the side of the N 306 – not too many HGVs, but fast-moving traffic and some blind bends. Once in the countryside, the main crop was maize and because of high walls and fences, not much of a view across what was mainly flat countryside. Sooner than expected, we arrived at a beautifully located hotel -Quinta San Miguel – for the night.
I spent some time by the pool which was very warm and so a beer was called for. Then some washing.
A white port for aperitifs and then dinner – pork tenderloin with a mushroom sauce, preceded by starters and home made vegetable soup. Tomorrow there will be less walking on roads, according to Dave, and from then onwards.
The following day promised to be very warm again. We left at 09.00 and I soon found myself ahead of the group. I wasn’t hurrying, just in to a comfortable stride. Except for the occasional shade from woodlands, it was a baking hot day. Maize in abundance and vines grown on trellises, sometimes edging the fields. There were a number of “crevasses” – ancient, narrow donkey tracks – and an occasional eye-catching entrance.
Every cottage garden had rows of cabbages – think Caldo Verde.
I stopped at a couple of bars along the way for agua con gaz, coffee and an energy drink, plus stops at two “Fuentes” to replenish water supplies. The temperature was 38*.
A pleasant section.
Crossed the River Carado by way of an ancient bridge into Barcelos.
A helpful lady in the Tourist Office gave me a map, plus directions to our accommodation, Hotel Do Terco, next to a modern shopping mall of the same name. The usual routine of shower and sock wash – had to use a sock as a plug! For the first time, I had experienced some soreness in my feet – probably due to the heat: my two toes were reddened, with a little bleeding and the sole of left foot was sore. I soaked my feet for a while, applied copious amounts of foot balm, then lay on the bed for 30 minutes, cooling down. Mac had yet to arrive so, feeling refreshed, went in search of a cold drink which I eventually found in a small square in the shopping mall – the site of an old convent, apparently. I ordered a Super Bock and an agua con gaz.
I had read John Brierley’s guide book to this camino and we had a similar distance to cover the next day. Strangely, it had been so hot today that I had not eaten much – a good breakfast at the Quinta – a peach, one of Hannah’s cakes that she had made for me and some grapes ” foraged” along the way. As I was sitting in the square, the others arrived – two hours after me. They had felt the heat and looked almost exhausted. Apparently, they had had to make frequent stops because of the heat. 17.45 – second Super Bock – felt better already. Fortunately, everyone had recovered by 20.00 when it was time to go for dinner at a local restaurant, specialising in regional cooking. I had an amazing starter of roast chorizo, delivered on a ceramic, boat-shaped platter – flames licking, lips licking. For our main course, Mac and I shared Riz de Mariscos – exceptionally good. I passed on dessert and had a glass of port instead.
Having written that I never had foot trouble on a camino, I rarely ever have tummy trouble either, but in less than 24 hours I experienced both. I woke at 04.00 with the ‘runs’, but got back to sleep, thankfully. A litre of fruit juice with breakfast, in retrospect, was probably not a good move – though everything else had. We still managed to set off on time, walking through Barcelos.
You cannot leave Barcelos with out being regaled by this famous legend.
The Legend of the Cockerel of Barcelos
The medieval stone cross that can be seen in the Archeological Museum of the town is related to the legend of the Cockerel of Barcelos
According to the legend, the inhabitants of Barcelos were very disturbed by a crime, the perpetrator of which had not been discovered. One day a man from Galicia, who was suspected of having committed the crime, passed by Barcelos and was arrested. Ignoring his pleas of innocence (he said he was on his way to Santiago de Compostela to fulfill a vow), he was condemned to be hanged.
Before he was executed, he asked to be taken to the presence of the judge, who was dining with some friends, and once again protested his innocence, but noone believed him. And then he pointed to a roast chicken on the table and exclaimed: “As surely as I am innocent will that cockerel crow if I am hanged.”
And what seemed impossible actually happened. When the pilgrim was being hanged, the Cockerel stood up on the table and crowed. The judged rushed to the gallows and saw that the knot of the rope around his neck was caught, thus prevented him being hanged. He was released and sent on his way in peace.
Years later, he returned to the town and built the monument to São Tiago and to the Virgin Mary.
The colorful representation of the Barcelos Cockerel was adopted for many years as the symbol of the Portuguese tourism.
It was an enjoyable walk through the countryside, although there was no cafe for 3.5 hours, with muggy weather at first. I enjoyed a cheese and ham roll, plus an americano and agua con gaz.
At 13.30, I was the first of our group to arrive at Casa Fernandez and was given a warm welcome – it was rather like “The Cabin in the Woods”, situated in a small holding, a decent- sized house adjacent to the garden and clothes-washing area. It had two bedrooms available for couples and a bed under a gazebo, in the garden.
The hostess provided beers and nibbles, and later a litre and a half of home made white wine with more nibbles. We were joined by Mia from Holland, Paul from Denmark, Woody from Germany, and then later by Valter and Isabel from Oporto and Anna from Germany, by which time more beer, wine and shrimp savouries had been dispensed. At this point, Simon had to retire for a siesta in the gazebo. I put some music on the I-pad and a very convivial mood set in.
Dinner was provided in the farmhouse style kitchen – a long dining table and seating for all of us with a bit of a squeeze. Salad, rice, grilled chicken and ribs with both red and white wine. A lively atmosphere which was enhanced to party level when the hostess brought out a guitar and some bongos. Paul volunteered for the guitar and we worked through a medley of songs by The Beatles, Buddy Holly, German, Danish songs and a Welsh song from Colin, Mac delivered an Irish song or two and I crooned some Billy Fury – a marvellous European evening of laughter and song. Most of us made it back to the bunkhouse, the Reverend Simon to the pergola. The two couples had their own rooms. There were separate loos and showers in the bunkhouse, I should add. Breakfast was provided in the morning and without any pressure from our amazing hostess, we made our donations, because there was no price list and although this was different from any other albergue you might experience, the tradition was the same – a donativo.
[Some time afterwards I received a parcel from Portugal from my camino amigo, Valter, with whom I am still in touch.]
Before setting off, Simon expertly applied a long Compeed plaster on the crack in the sole of my left foot; I put two plasters on those troublesome toes. Dave said that as we get older our arches drop and our feet get bigger. This is when I learnt that for serious, successive day walking like a camino you need boots at least one size bigger than your normal shoe size.
It was short walk to Ponte de Lima, a very old town on the camino and one which I had visited before, though in very different circumstances. We walked through small holdings, along sandy paths, small streams and bridges and, approaching the Lima Valley, hills became visible in the distance.
I met up with Colin and Simon at a cafe about 5 km out of Ponte de Lima and soon we were walking alongside the river into the town, with its distinctive bridge in the distance.
On approaching this picturesque and interesting town, I noticed the restaurant where Barbara, our son, Tom, then aged one and I had lunch some 30 odd years previously. We had driven in from Praia de Ancora where we were camping. Ponte de Lima is famous for its horse market held on the riverbank.
There was some confusion as to the whereabouts of our accommodation and it was discovered that it lay 10 km out of the town. At this point we bade farewell to Simon as he had to return to his duties in Perry Beeches. Colin and I then took a taxi – a Mercedes for 9 Euros – to the residencial. It looked a pretty place, with pool and orchards. Unfortunately, being a Monday, the bar and restaurant were closed! There was no restaurant nearby and 2 km to the nearest bar, to which Colin and I walked for a ham roll and a beer for lunch. By this time Mac and co had been contacted and were not best pleased to find that there was a taxi ride involved, so they had lunch in Ponte de Lima. Meanwhile, back at the residencial, Matilde, the receptionist, kindly offered to make dinner for us and she would drive to get necessary provisions. The camino provides…
“Matilda told such dreadful lies,
It made one gasp and stretch one’s eyes…” by Hilaire Belloc
[Matilde, who spoke excellent English, was tickled by this poem – I sent her the full version later.]
The following morning, taxis were taken to the bridge to recommence the camino. We were forewarned about a 4 km climb and we fell in behind a line of 20 Danes on a camino whose luggage was being transported. I felt fortunate to come across a cafe before the climb and met up with Isabella.
Refreshed, I made the ascent and was glad to have my hiking poles as it was difficult under foot in places. I enjoyed the fine views and the descent eventually was along a Roman road.
I found the residencial, after spotting the yellow arrow at a roundabout.
I went about the usual routine of washing clothes etc. Colin arrived and we had a couple of beers and a sandwich. I then walked over to the albergue to meet up with the others at a bar and spent a good hour or so there .A car took us to a speciality restaurant for bacalhau – an enjoyable meal.
A very grumpy owner gave us a basic breakfast at 07. 00 and we were glad to be on the camino by 08.00. A dog followed me for 80 minutes, with no encouragement. Anna said that it had followed her yesterday from Ponte de Lima! I stopped for coffee and one of Han’s cakes at 10.00, met up with Valter and co. It was very hot as we walked along quiet ways and gulleys until the Minho valley came into view – quite a vista.
Valenca is a fortress town of massive proportions.
The yellow arrows disappeared and so I walked across the fortress, asking for directions as I went. There was a touristy market taking place and it was quite busy. I reached the hotel, somewhat hidden outside one of the gateways to the fort.
I went through the usual routine at the hotel. Noone else had arrived so went for a cheese roll and glass of wine about 3 pm, next door. I guessed [ rightly ] that the others – they had stopped for lunch somewhere along the way.They arrived at 16.00. By thIs time i had gone to the Turismo for a town Plan. Went for a walkabout and met up with Isabella, Valter, Anna – they were pissed off because the local Albergue was closed. So they would have to walk on towards Tui. We exchanged Phone numbers and e-mails. Met up then with Mac and we had a Vinho Verde until everyone recovered enough to walk into the fortress for an evening stroll.
Much of it was closing down as the tourists had departed. We struck up a conversation with some Americans and Paul, the Dane, next to the battlements.
it was at this point that Teresa came up with the expression ‘Ensuite Pilgrims”. I clocked that we were not keen on albergues !
[ It became the nom- de-plume of my Blog ]
Exited the fortress by way of a chapel.
It was then on to a restaurant by the hotel, with the Americans and Paul. I enjoyed caldo verde , followed by vitello. The others, who had eaten a massive lunch, managed to persuade a bemused waiter to bring egg and chips – that well known Northern Portuguese speciality ! Some good red wine and an enjoyable night. Tomorrow is a “Rest Day”.
Breakfast was on the third floor with great views, enhanced byPortuguese bacon sandwiches !
Valenca is very close to the Spanish border – we would be walking in to Spain the next day. I accompanied Colin for a short train trip along the Minho to Caminha, the ferry crossing point from Portugal.
Caminha is lovely place and an important stop on the Portuguese Coastal camino with a picturesque square and chapels.
A light lunch.
We walked down to the ferry departure point.
I was wearing sandals as I still had some abrasions on a couple of my toes. I went to a helpful Pharmacia, washed feet on return to the hotel and applied some balm.
Drinks at 19.00 and dinner at 20.00. The next day we would walk in to Espana. Dave reminded us to put our watches forward an hour.
21.09.12 – There had been some rain overnight and so it was cloudy and humid as we crossed the Minho in to Spain.
Tui is a place where I would have liked to spend more time with its impressive cathedral of Santa Maria. The camino goes down by the left of it and there, on a doorstep, I spied a simple array of Camino shells for sale. I immediately stopped and made a purchase for my rucksack, as mine had been crushed in the hold on our flight over!
This walk began very enjoyably – even the street signs wished us well.
114 km from this point along quiet ways, with the occasional stream, cruceiro and sculpture.
Eventually, I found a well-situated restaurant and enjoyed a tuna bocadillo and a beer whilst chatting with Diane from Brazil.
But what was to follow en route?
After a descent from the restaurant to a plain, the arrows pointed along a sign reading “Poligino” – industrial estate – nothing unusual in that as they are often found on the outskirts of towns and cities, but it was the smell – a mixture of granite dust and fish canning. Then along a straight road for the best part of 4 km. There were Peugeot and Citroen dealerships – at least they didn’t stink – a complete contrast to the first part of the day.
Eventually, I crossed over a railway bridge and made my way through the outskirts of O Porrino, and after asking a local, (I always ask someone under 30 as there is more chance they will have some English), I found Hotel Parque situated on what might have been a pleasant square except for the temporary presence of a fun fair and a building site opposite.
O NO PORRINO ! The room was adequate, on the third floor, but was not 3 star as displayed. Mac arrived, and at 18.00 the music and the funfair started up. Apparently, it was the middle of the town fiesta, which lasts from 12-23 rd September. We were next to the Old Town.
There we met up with Paul from Denmark for a couple of beers and tapas. We then made our way through the crowds, quickly passing the karaoke stage to a square where we were serenaded by a Galician band.
The streets were brilliantly illuminated and we sat watching the passegiata for a while. We found the others in a different bar and I ordered patatas aioli with some calamares, two glasses of Rioja and all was good. We returned to Hotel Parque with the funfair in full swing. Despairing of getting some sleep, we downed two Fundadors, I shut the bedroom window, drew the blinds and put in two sets of ear plugs and dropped off to sleep. After a paltry breakfast – I would not recommend this place – we left to start a 9 km stretch.
A very enjoyable walk, enjoyed a coffee and a cold drink at Mos, then a steep climb.
I chatted to two Canadian-Koreans, members of the Legion of Mary, then took a long drink from a fuente and refilled my flask – ice cold – delicioso! Eventually, I arrived at Redondela, where the Portuguese coastal camino joins the central – a quirky place with a wonderful railway viaduct.
We were to rendezvous by the albergue, a restored 16th century building next to the River Alvedo, from where we were to be transported to a casa rural.
I ordered a jamon y queso bocadillo and a beer and found myself chatting to a gentleman who turned out to be the owner of the Casa Rural.
When some of the others arrived, four of us were taken by car miles away – I had no idea where. It was a characterful, stone building adjacent to a swimming pool where we lounged for a few hours until dinner, which was served in the kitchen of the main house – soup, salad, potatoes and red peppers, grilled meat – cake, fruit and coffee. Next morning, breakfast was a simple affair of toast, cake and coffee. I got some hot water for my Earl Grey teabag. Then we were driven back to the camino to recommence our walk to Pontevedra. There was a change in the weather – overcast and gusts of wind. After one and three quarter hours of walking, I came across a little cafe, just as it started to rain. A friendly, young waitress served me an americano, agua con gaz and a tapas and pretty sello for my pilgrim passport, too!
I got chatting to a Spanish guy and two ladies from Lisbon, with whom I set off in the rain. We descended to a bridge that is famous for being the site from which Napoleon’s troops were dispatched in the Spanish War of Independence. The girls offered to take my photo there and I reciprocated .
Walking on, I passed acCruceiro and a small chapel where there was a Sello to be obtained.
Just on the outskirts of Pontevedra, there was a small children’s playground where there were some imposing religious sculptures dedicated to peleginos. It was an incongruous setting.
Colin had said we were staying at the Hostal de Pelgrinos and just as I passed under the railway bridge, there was (or so I thought), the sign. I booked myself in ,handed over my passport and went up to my room. It was then I realised my mistake – wrong place. I gave my apology to the boss, but, after some further confusion, I eventually found the right hotel. There were three settings with virtually the same name a hostal, a residencial and eventually the hotel! It was then about 14.00, so after a bath and some washing, I enjoyed a bocadillo of calamares and two Mahous. There were still some blustery showers, but I did a little exploring of what is a very interesting pilgrim town, with the fine Basilica de Santa Maria and other beautifully appointed churches and squares.
The others eventually arrived about 17.00. I found a bar and began writing up the day’s saunter. We ended up in the restaurant of another hotel for dinner – the lamb chops were excellent. The next day we were bound for Caldas de Rei – a Roman spa town. Geoff was not well so he went by bus. I walked through the town and out over the Roman bridge.
I stopped at a cafe for for a coffee and a ‘Rockstar’ – Spanish Red Bull ! It was a cool, showery start to the day, but a pleasant walk.
I plodded on, crossing a main line rail track at one point – STOP, LOOK ,LISTEN .
There wasn’t much in the way of refreshment opportunitie,s but fortunately I came upon a cafe just as a heavy shower kicked in and lo and behold the two Lisbonites were there, plus a German couple, Hans and Monica. They had stayed in the almost brand new albergue in Pontevedra and had been very impressed with their experience. I walked on, crossing the N 550 a couple of times.
I found the hotel without any problem – the room overlooked the river and downstream, a Roman bridge.
I went down to the bar and had the biggest bocadillo ever! Went back to the room and lay down for 30 minutes and then did a walk around the town.
Interestingly, Caldas de Reis has the only church in Spain devoted to St Thomas A Beckett.
I bumped into the German couple again and shared a beer with them in a pleasant riverside bar, then back to the hotel where I had an aperitif with Mac and then on to a nearby restaurant for Padron peppers, steak and salad.
Another dampish start to the day (25/09/2012), setting off for the outskirts of Padron. It was easy walking at first, in light drizzle, through forests and along paths strewn with pine needles.
After 8km there was a welcome cafe -enjoyed Hannah’s cake ,a coffee and an Aquarius – I was refreshed. Colin came in just as I was leaving. Heavy rain followed.
Despite the rain, it was very humid and along a forest track I came across a picnic spot where I changed out of my soaking T shirt into a lighter vest.
I met up with Colin and we made our way to the accommodation in Pontesecures, on the River Ulla. The Casa do Rio was unmanned when we entered at 13.00. A phone call confirmed the receptionist would be there by 13.30.
It was a lovely room. We walked into the village in the continuing rain and found a menu del dia for 9 euros – pulpo, steak, dessert and a liqueur. Meanwhile, Mac had arrived at the hotel and made his way to the bar, as I had the key to the room. The others went for a meal and I had a peaceful interlude, catching up on e-mails, the Guardian crossword and some music. The rain was still falling as I decided to go for a stroll through Pontesecures hoping for tapas. I visited four small local bars in total – all welcoming at the sight of a bedraggled Englishman in a bright yellow NY City rain top. The tapas were great – fabadas – one with beans, one with chick peas and sardines on crusty bread. I was making my way back, when I came to the fourth bar whose furniture was made out of lumps of wood and wine was from the barrel. The owner of this modest place took an interest and recommended some local white wine, served in a porcelain dish – the bouquet was indeterminate – but delicious. I had a couple. When I went to pay, he told me the wine was called ‘Vino de Paix’ and he gave me the dish. I was so surprised and grateful – it only happens on a camino!
On returning to the hotel, where the others had remained, I got into a conversation with two guys, one was a candle maker and the other an HGV driver, both members of the local canoe club, situated next door.
26/09/12 and it was a little brighter as I peeked out of the bedroom window at the paper mill. This was the last day on the camino and Santiago de Compostela the destination.
We crossed the ancient bridge over the river Ulla into Padron, which is named after the “pedron”, a Roman stone underneath the altar in the Igrexa de Santiago. It was this stone, according to legend, that the boat carrying St James’ body and his disciples moored up against before the corpse was transported by ox and cart (provided by Queen Lupa) to a burial site on which Santiago Cathedral was subsequently built.
The weather changed to rain for a while and then a spectacular sight.
It was an easy walk, criss-crossing the N550 from time to time. I walked with Colin for a time and stopped for coffee and a bottle of lemon Kas. There were two stiff climbs through woodland.
We passed a forbidding looking church on the main road – The Santuario de Esclavidos – but it has an interesting story. It is 18th Century Baroque: legend has it that the church was built after a sick pilgrim was cured when he drank from the fountain on his way to Santiago in 1732.
Over a railway line with good views of the valley below.
On the outskirts of Santiago, I reached a modern suburb where I found a cafe. Feeling myself flagging a little, I had a monster energy drink. Whoosh!
I walked on past the city hospital and up a hill in to Santiago. I realied that I was on the opposite side of the city to the hotel, so I backtracked to the ring road.
From there I took a 4 euro taxi ride to the hotel, signed in, enjoyed a hot bath and some final clothes washing. Then out for a sandwicha mixta con huevo in the bar that I had used last year.
I bumped into Dave, Teresa and Mac, the latter with a calf strain. To make matters worse, when we got back to the hotel he couldn’t find his camera. We went to reception – no camera, back to the Pilgrims’ office – no camera, though I picked up my compostela while I was there. Mac was extremely brassed off. Later, when we met up with Colin and co in the cathedral square, Colin asked Mac if he had lost anything and then handed over his camera, which he had picked up outside the hotel – lucky Mac! Dinner and then to bed, feeling exhausted, possibly as much to do with completing the camino as a loss of adrenalin. I slept well.
27/09/12 was a fine day. We ate breakfast round the corner, then did some shopping and had a walkabout. I accompanied Mac to a specialist pharmacy where he was fitted with a strong calf support.
We entered the cathedral early for the Pilgrims’ mass.
As usual, the highlight of the mass was the swinging of the Botumfumeiro across the sanctuary – photos are a little blurred.
We made our way to the garden where we had lunch last year, 10 euros for 3 courses and coffee, plus Orujo! Excellent. We walked past some eye- catching doorways.
Then I went to do a bit more shopping and bought my baby grandson, Tom, a Galician cow that mooed when pressed.
And for myself the inevitable T shirt.
I also picked up a litre of Spanish gin and brandy, wrapped in a towel and placed in the middle of my rucksack as I made my final pack.
I had a glass of wine with Mac in our local and then on with the group to find a place for dinner. After a lot of time wandering around, it was decided to go back to the same place as the night before. With so many places to choose from I wanted to go somewhere different and so I found Casa Manolo.
We enjoyed delicious chuletas and a jug of wine. A group of friendly Americans insisted on buying me an Orujo. It was a good evening with plenty of laughter amongst fellow pelegrinos – agreat way to finish the camino.
PS This was a great walk of 260km through the centre of Portugal and Spain. I met some pelegrinos with whom I am still in touch on Facebook. Given the opportunity, I should like to walk this camino again because it was a BOM CAMINHO .
Over the last few days, I have enjoyed writing up another forgotten camino as a Blog. Looking out on the garden today (18th June, 2020) at heavy rain, I feel it has been a worthwhile lockdown activity and I look forward to seeing sunny skies over Iberia soon.
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