[Gocamino] Portuguese Camino Summary

[Jethess777@aol.com]

Hi Everyone,
I finally finished my camino summary.  A composite of thoughts and happenings 
from the journal I kept as I walked along the Portuguese Route this summer:
I will publicly thank everyone at the Confraternity of St. James (CSJ) and 
the GoCAMINO (Americans on the Camino) websites for their assistance with 
planning my first camino.  I originally had intended to walk on the French route, 
but I began to realize that, while do-able, it would have required several 
connections to get to the Lugo-Sarria area.  I did the camino on the foot-heels of 
a three-week excursion through Iberia that included touring in Madrid, 
Cordoba, Granada, Malaga, Marbella, Ronda, Gibraltar, Seville, and Portimao/Lagos/Sao 
Vicente in the Algarve area of Portugal.  I ended the vacation portion of 
this trip in Lisbon with a day trip to Fatima, which was a wonderful precursor to 
doing the camino. 

It was suggested by the CSJ board contributors that I do the Portuguese route 
instead and the timing worked out the best for me.  My husband, Jim, returned 
to the US from Lisbon.  He did not plan on going because he has a bad right 
knee and found that he couldn't train with me in the months prior to leaving 
for Europe.  Well, it was my idea anyway.  So on the morning of July 19th I left 
Lisbon on the CP train to Famalicao and changed to a regional train to 
Valenca on the northern Portuguese border.  I simply left the train station and 
started walking through the town of Valenca, and found a tourist office which gran
ted me my first “sello” for my pilgrim credential.  And then over the bridge 
across the Minho River and into the town of Tuy, Spain.  I solicited the help 
of the good staff at the TI office in Tuy for a B&B to spend the night.  I 
stayed at a beautifully renovated place, a suite with a kitchen and living room.  
It was called Casa Rural O Rozo and located northwest of Tuy, near Parque 
Natural Monte Aloia.  Cost = about 70 Euros.  The hostess pointed out that there 
was a restaurant and grocery store down the road.  I enjoyed a plate of tapas 
for supper and had a good night’s rest at the B&B. 

The next morning after I started walking, I realized that I was quite a bit 
off the camino track.  I got back on the correct trail at the “109 and some km”
 mark.  I was very surprised at the lack of foot traffic on the paths, this 
being so close to the festival of St. James date.  I think that I had just 
gotten off to a late start since I had to weave my way back onto the camino path 
from the B&B.  The weather was hot and the shade in the wooded area was very 
welcome.  I am a 58 year old woman walking alone and I can truthfully say that I 
never feared for my own safety, but I was spooked when I saw a dead sheep in 
the stream just beyond the San Telmo monument.  I’ll admit to having heeded 
some advice about safety beforehand, though.  I carried two knives and a metal 
walking stick with a pointed end “that could do some damage” if I were ever 
attacked.  I spent 22-1/2 years in the Army and I figured that a put-on cold 
stare would be enough to ward someone off.  I try to avoid carrying myself around 
as if I am a victim (yeah …all five foot of me!).  That said, the locals that 
I encountered along the camino path were mostly elderly women who seemed to 
appreciate a smile and a “buenos dias.” 

There are several small chapels along this stage of the route and I did take 
advantage of them to be alone to regroup my thoughts about “why I am here.”  
After a bite of lunch, I was on the trek through the area south of O Porrino, 
which was stressful—lots of big trucks on the road, kicking up lots of dust.  
But I came across my first fellow pilgrim here by the roundabout, a French 
woman about my age who was headed south to Fatima.  I’ll admit to being tired 
when I finally entered the city of O Porrino, so I stopped at the albergue there 
to lighten my load.  I had taken way too many toiletries and decided that 
parting with a few unopened this’s and that’s would be in my best interest.  I 
took an almost two hour nap in that cool albergue, thanks to the most lovely 
hospitalera running the place.  She tried to convince me to stay the night, but I 
got my second wind and decided to push on.  The town of Mos was another 5 km 
and I decided to try for it.  I found a nice café, serving a good pasta/beef 
chunks with vegetables supper.  The woman running the café entertained me by 
turning on the TV to a game show.  That night it was geography of Spain.  I 
think I amazed her at how many questions I could answer (all fairly easy stuff—I 
speak a good deal of Spanish, but wouldn't say that I am fluent).  After 
supper, I decided to push even further—all the way to Redondela.  I made it to the 
albergue by 9:30 p.m. Just enough room!  Open bay dormitories, everyone down to 
underwear on a hot night.  Most everyone was in bed by the time I set my 
rucksack down.  The lights were out.  A few women were doing the laundry.  I was 
lucky in that the one of the last open beds was right by an open window.  I 
thought that I would be sore the next day.  My shins were slightly bothersome.  I 
took some Advil (ibuprofen) and quickly fell asleep after my shower.  That 
albergue was quite lovely with very good facilities, a converted building from 
medieval times and situated next to a church.  A former monastery, perhaps?

The next morning, July 21st, I got the chance to speak sporadically with 
several of the last groups of pilgrims.  Most were up before daybreak and hitting 
the trails at the crack of dawn.  Not me, it felt good to linger in bed a 
while after the previous day's exertion No shin or foot pain on this morning!  I 
was in good shape for this day!  I kept up a steady pace but was possibly the 
last straggler on the path.  Some of the most beautiful forests are in this 
area, interspersed with vineyards. Eden must have been similar!  Just short of 
Pontevedra, I stopped by a wonderful café, serving a tuna sandwich with some of 
those famous Padron pimentos added to it.  (Cost for that and a Heineken was 
under 3 Euros—I was really amazed at cheap restaurant food was in this area- it’
s like traveling through Kentucky or West Virginia).  I sat at a table with a 
couple from Mallorca whom I had seen earlier in the day.  It was a nice break 
trading information about how disaffected youth are treated in Spain vs the 
United States.  The woman,Paula, is a teacher and makes home visits.  I am a 
pediatric and family nurse practitioner and am currently employed by a school 
district in California, so we had something in common.  The couple decided to 
stay in the albergue so I walked with them to it (also looking very nice), then 
headed into the city where I had pre-reserved a room through 
centraldereservas.com at Hotel Rias Baias (cost 56 Euros, no breakfast).  No frills, but a 
comfortable place that had a small refrig in the room.  I was able to go to the 
supermarket around the corner and purchase some dinner items and breakfast 
foods, as well as some liquids to take with me for the road the following day. 

I followed Brierley’s guide to the Camino Portugues and thought I’d find 
very little luck in the way of cafes on the way to Caldas.  However, there was a 
rather new place right on the route, a bit past the midway mark and featuring 
very nice roasted pork sandwiches (cost for it and a Coke was just over 4 
Euros).  I found the albergue in Caldas, but it had been closed for some time, 
according to some of the locals.  I booked into Casa Leirero, a B&B due west from 
Caldas along N640 almost to AP 9.  I was tired so I indulged in a short taxi 
ride from Caldas to the B&B.  Now, I’ll explain that I am a frequent user of 
the “gites-de-france” system of Chambres D’Hotes in France and usually book 
those that offer repas (supper).  This B&B near Caldas was very similar to some 
of the nicest facilities that I had stayed at while in the Auvergne and 
surrounding areas of central and southwest France.  This being a Saturday night, 
July 22nd, it was a full house, including a Spanish couple who were now living in 
Los Angeles, California and were visiting “back home.”  Conversation flowed 
easily and they wanted me to regale them of my adventures on the camino.   
They were also curious about why I would be doing the camino in the first place 
and why I was alone, all 5 foot of me.  Dinner was a multi-course feast.  The 
main course was a seafood bouillabaisse.  All very delicious!  The next morning 
we were served fresh baked croissants.  The host drove me back to Caldas and 
put me back on track so that I could attend Sunday Mass at the Iglesia and 
continue on schedule.  He sent me off with a large bottle of water and some 
snacks for along the way.  Very lovely hosts!  I will come back one day and bring 
my husband to this place. 

Sunday was a full-sun day, not that much shade, but there were livestock to 
commune with along the route.  Horses, goats and a sheep or two today.  Much is 
said of barking dogs along the camino route.  They were either on a long 
chain or well fenced in.  It began to make sense to me as to why there would be 
large dogs in the first place.  Much of the camino course appeared to run over 
or adjacent to private property.  Owning a large dog myself and partly for 
security reasons, it was nice to see so many fine dogs.  I sort of smiled at them 
and told them what good pooches they were for doing their job well. 

I walked through Padron and onward to Pazos where I had reserved a room 
before I left for Europe, again through centraldereservas.com.  The Hotel Scala’s 
staff was wonderful.  The gal at the desk oriented me to my room herself and 
pointed out their pool and bid me to take advantage of having a dip there.  The 
grounds were very well manicured.  Trellises with kiwi fruit set off a nice 
outdoor area.  Cost = 52 Euros including a nice breakfast.  The hotel has two 
fine restaurants attached.  I chose the less expensive of the two, mainly 
because they were serving dinner an hour earlier than the other.  I was the first 
customer.  My first try of gallego soup—loved it!  Ordered an entrée of roasted 
chicken and some vinho tinto (I honestly did not know that glasses of wine are 
not sold.  So I was presented with a full bottle.  No, I didn’t drink it 
all!  This was my fist time in Europe alone.  I had at least the company of my 
husband on other journeys there  and sometimes in addition to one or both of our 
adult children and their friends)

July 24th, my last day of hiking!  Basically a bit overcast, even some 
sprinkles as I approached Santiago.  The books all say that you will fell some 
exhilaration at the sight of the spires.  Yes, I felt the classic symptoms, to my 
own surprise!  There were very short lines at the Office of Peregrinos.  Maybe 
it was because I was one of the slower hikers that day.  I managed to check 
out a couple of gift shops after I got my certificate and ran into Jeff and his 
girlfriend, a young couple from England.  God love them!  I also ran into 
Paula and her husband, the couple from Mallorca.  Several hugs went with the 
feeling of exhilaration.  I think everyone was concerned for me, since I was 
clearly “the old lady” on the trail, and alone at that.  But I managed just fine. 

I checked into my hotel, Husa Universal Compostela-- very adequate lodging 
that I booked for 2 nights.  I did this months in advance for the price of 68 
Euros, including breakfast.  With the St. James Festival, the places are quickly 
filled and prices rise as the date approaches.  Location was good, not great, 
but at least it was only a short walk from both the train station and the bus 
station.  Not much problem getting in and around town from either, now that I 
was free of backpack and walking stick.  Fireworks and other festivities that 
evening were great- began shortly before 11 p.m. and finished at around 12:30 
a.m. to strains of “mas, mas, fiesta” being shouted by the crowds.  I sat 
near some young local women and also an older couple from Belgium.  I felt like 
I had become a citizen of the world!  The 10:30 a.m. Mass on the 25th was a 
packed standing-room-only event.  I was standing close to where about 6 men were 
working the ropes to swing the botafumeiro.  A sight to behold!  Many local 
and even national dignitaries were present with seating reserved for them.  
Fitting, since St. James (Santiago) has been the patron saint of Spain since 
about the eighth century.  I stayed for the following Mass also and took the time 
afterwards to tour the cathedral and the tomb of St. James (through a stone 
passageway under the cathedral).  I had with me a stone (more like a river rock, 
one of two that I took with me) from home wrapped with a paper listing my 
intentions.  I placed it inside the grid covering the resting-place for the 
silver chest with the remains of St. James.  I spent the rest of the day taking in 
this wonderful historical city. 

While having breakfast at the Husa Hotel in Santiago, I ran into four 
teachers from Texas who had arrived in Santiago for the festivities.  They were also 
headed for Porto on July 26th and were on the same ALSA bus.  I was glad that 
I purchased the ticket 3 weeks earlier when I was touring in Spain with my 
husband.  There were crowds trying to get on and I’m sure that there were not 
enough seats for everyone.  I sat on the bus next to a journalist, now living in 
Brazil.  She had been covering the festival and was returning to Portugal to 
stay with friends.  The ride down to Porto was almost surreal, in that I had 
walked over the same area and struggled up and down hills for several days and 
here we were, traversing the same area in a few hours. 

Porto is a lovely city in its own right and I am glad that I had the chance 
to see some of it.  I managed to do a whirlwind tour of the city on foot, now 
that I was freed of my backpack.  Most interesting were the Cloisters at Se and 
the Igreja Sao Francisco.  I met up with the teachers in a café area of the 
riverfront.  A simply beautiful, warm, but breezy night!  On the morning of Jul 
27th, I left for the Porto Airport to take the 11:05 Ryanair flight to 
Paris.  Transportation from mid-town Porto to the airport is so easy and inexpensive 
using the new Metro system. 

I had six nights booked in Paris and stayed at the tiny Hotel de la Sorbonne, 
near the Pantheon.  I consider my stay in Paris as a proper cooling down from 
my camino experience.  I have been in Paris many times before, but this is 
the first time that I experienced the city alone.  The park behind Notre Dame 
became a favorite haunt there.  I did some research at the Archives.  My 
great-grandparents owned a café in Paris, at a time when café culture was coming of 
age.  I was trying to research its location and came up with some good leads 
for future research that I could do at home on the internet. 

I guess I should explain why I did this hike in the first place.  It was 
really all about family—my own family, my extended family, my human family.  I 
learned about the camino from a story in a 5th grade reader (I attended a 
Catholic parochial school).  It was a story about two children, one destined to stay 
in the then Spanish colony of St. Augustine Florida and the other to return to 
Spain.  “Remember St. James and Spain,” the one bid the other farewell.  A 
sidebar explained the story of the Santiago pilgrimage.  I remember being quite 
impressed with the story.  On and off over the years, I came across articles 
about it and thought, someday I’ll do this myself!  But it wasn’t until I was 
touring the Basque region in Navarra a few years ago that I actually ran into 
someone who walked the camino.  A young woman about 25 years old, who was a 
tour-guide at the cathedral in Hondarribia, told me of her experiences doing 
the camino herself.   Hearing her speak of it gave me hope of accomplishing this 
journey.  So here I was doing it for myself. 

My fears, frustrations, sweat and toil doing this were offered for a brother 
who disappeared 40 years ago on one crisp October Saturday.  He was an 8th 
grade student who had just finished delivering papers on his newspaper route, 
stopped by home briefly and then went out again on his bike a 3:30 p.m. to meet 
his best friend.  He never arrived.  He and his belongings were never found.  A 
proper police investigation was not done because two days later, some 
classmates told the police they saw my brother and ran after him “but couldn’t catch 
him.”  It was a story that would ring out a grain of truth because the whole 
school knew that my brother was the fastest runner.  Twenty-some years later, 
one of the classmates confessed that they had made up the whole story to cover 
for the fact that they were late getting back to class because they were 
smoking and needed a story to account for the time.  So the case was tightly shut 
and he was simply listed as a runaway.  This was something he would not have 
done—he would not have run out on the family or his best friend.  He was my 
good buddy as well.  I was about 5 years older than he and had a minor surgery a 
few weeks before he disappeared.  He would get ice packs for me, take my mail 
up to me and that sort of stuff.  Like I said, he would have never run out on 
us like that.  I knew from the start that this was foul play.  The laws 
regarding responsibilities of the police for a missing child were very weak at the 
time, something that has since been corrected, although the handling of such 
cases in the United States has yet to be standardized.  Several attempts were 
made to get the police to look at this case again, but the police would not 
budge.  So thirty some years later, I was finally able to get the police to reopen 
this case and their efforts led to him to finally be listed with the National 
Center for Missing and Exploited children in Alexandria, Virginia.  Although 
I have little hope that this case will be “solved,” at least I know that 
stones are being unturned with ruling out that he survived whatever happened to 
him and DNA matches on remains that crop up and that sort of thing.  Good 
investigators are working on this and their personal causes were added to my list of 
intentions that were placed at the tomb of St. James.  My list from friends, 
neighbors, and co-workers was a rather long typed list.  I hand wrote wishes 
to extend blessings to people that I met along the way, genuine people who 
cared.  Service workers and locals alike. 

I posted my reasons for doing this camino on the site for American Pilgrims, 
GoCAMINO.  Bless them and their efforts to pray for my success.  So I feel a 
lot more at peace, praise be to God! 

Will I do another camino?  In a heartbeat!  In 2008, I’ll try a segment of 
the French route.  I want to go in 2010 also (Holy Year), God willing, and I 
think I will do either the Primitive or English route.  I survived this short 
camino well, thanks to being fitted for good hiking boots by the staff at REI and 
good socks.  I used Smart Wool socks, alternated with Wright socks and used a 
KEDS sock liner some days.  No blisters, no foot pain! 

God Bless Everyone!  And buen camino to all the walkers out there and to 
those who will be walking!
-Joanie