Author: DawnO

Click is the sound of my waist clasp on my backpack as I do it up. After 4 months of travel it feels like a part of me. I have it packed too full for the Camino walking, but my shoulders are used to it now and I feel strong, organized, and capable.

Click is the sound of my hiking poles along the path. I’m back to covering longer distances again. My feet are in great shape, other than one spot that I’m keeping a close eye on. I love the rhythm of my steps as I walk for hours.

My brain feels like it’s clicked into place. I’m present, grateful, and not over thinking things.

Click is the sound of my camera as I take pictures of the countryside. The past few days I did 1 foggy day on the coast, then crossed inland through vineyards, fields, and over the highest point on this Camino.

The last couple of days my guidebook suggested a long day (33.8kms) followed by a short day (18.3kms). There are a handful of alburgues (accommodation for pilgrims) that the guidebook labels with a gold star, indicating that they’re recommended. I’ve been trying to stay in as many of these as possible (some of which have deserved this rating, and others not so much). So I decided that I would reverse my days to do a short day (19.7kms) to stay in a recommended place, followed by the long day. I like to walk at sunrise because I love the sounds, light, and peacefulness, so I arrived at the alburgue really early, about 10:30. There was a note on the door saying that it opens at 2:00. No one was around, so I relaxed in the beautiful garden area for a while, then decided to do my laundry. Just after noon the hospitalera came home and told me that it was all full for the night (from advance reservations). She asked why I didn’t call, and Planny rolled her eyes. Then she proceeded to tell me that her place is *not* for people who ‘race’ through the Camino and don’t use it as a meditative and spiritual experience. I was pretty offended that she had judged me this way, so while I was packing up my things I explained to her why I like walking at sunrise. Then she told me that she did have 1 bed on the covered balcony that I could stay in if I wanted. Because of the way she treated me I would have said no, but I wasn’t sure how I was going to hang my wet laundry on my backpack and I had no dry socks.

As I settled in, she warmed to me and I realized that perhaps I had surprised her a little by making myself at home in her yard. We chatted and connected, and later in the afternoon someone cancelled their reservation so I had a ‘real’ bed after all. She cooked a huge delicious meal for us 10 pilgrims, then started pouring port wine and pumping the tunes for a kitchen dance party. I was one of the youngest pilgrims there, but everyone was singing and dancing together. If you ask me if I participated in the Macarena I must plead the 5th, your honour! Anyway, it was one of my best nights of the journey and definitely gold star worthy.

The next day I realized pretty quickly why my book had made this the short day, as it was definitely the most challenging hike so far. There was another ‘gold star’ alburgue and when I arrived they had only 1 bed that hadn’t been reserved in advance. This ‘go with the flow’ thing seems to be working out. 

I have always been a planner. I like reservations, goals, and structure and it is a skill that I’m proud to be good at. While I’ve been walking I’ve been imagining this part of me as a tiny, smartly dressed version of myself called ‘Planny’. She sits on my shoulder with her checklists and clipboard, keeping me on track. She’s efficient and organized and I like her.
That being said, I can appreciate the value of the other end of the continuum: the spontaneous, fun, go-with-the-flow energy that I’ve never had. I’ve seen how remarkable things can happen when my schedule blew up because of my blisters last week.
So I decided to challenge myself to loosen my grip on the reins. What better place to do this than on a Camino, where there is an extensive safety net of support. Though I could book my accommodations in advance, I’m trying to override this instinct. Planny whispers into my ear all of my fears and anxieties around this: What if I arrive somewhere and there are no beds left? What if I’m too tired to continue on? What if…? What if…?

One day I had the option of 3 potential towns in which I could stay: a short walk (16km), medium (23.5) or long (30.7). I decided to judge my stop based on how I was feeling. I was walking with a Kiwi girl named Coco. Motivated by good conversation and weather, we pushed on to the furthest place, arriving in good time (about noon). The hospitalero informed us that he had no beds left due to some kind of motocross competition going on in the town. I’m sure you can imagine the ‘I told you so’s’ from Planny. We had a decision to either walk back about 4kms to an alburgue or further 9.4kms to the next town. Not wanting to backtrack, we decided to have a good lunch and walk on. The friendly hospitalero called ahead to the Bombeiros (fire station) for us to make sure we could stay there.
It was a tiring but manageable walk and when we arrived we had to figure out a way to call the Bombeiros to get let into the building. I asked this Portuguese couple beside us at a cafe if they could call for us. They not only did that, but they then walked us the few blocks to the building and waited until we got in!
It turned out that this town (Oliveira de Azeméis) was having it’s annual 2 day ‘ancient market’ festival. The main streets were filled with locals dressed in old fashioned costumes eating roasted pork, chorizo, and drinking local wine and liqueurs. I think they may have set the world record for number of accordions in a square block.

As we walked around tasting and interacting with locals Coco expressed how it felt so perfect that we had walked the extra distance for this festival. Even Planny agreed.

I am really enjoying walking through the Portuguese countryside and small towns. The route always runs past the local church. I’ve also gotten a lot of artistic inspiration from the variety of tiles.

I’m now in Porto, the perfect town to have a rest day. I did another round of port tasting to further narrow my favorites and had the famous Francesinha sandwich. It contains 4 different types of meat, 2 layers of cheese, a beer gravy, and a fried egg on top. I’m glad I went for lunch as I didn’t need to eat for the rest of the day!

Tomorrow I’m back on the trail, feeling refreshed. Buen Camino!

My Camino really turned the corner into something special when I let go of expectation and self doubt. I leaned into it and trusted that what will be will be. 

The morning after my rest day my foot was no longer feeling the sharp pain of impending infection, so following my (now ritualistic) morning foot care routine I set off for my shorter day to Heartway Pilgrim House. It was every bit the Shangri-la experience that I had been dreaming of. The hospitalera, Leide, is a young Dutch girl who embodies the generosity and spirit of the Camino. She made delicious homemade meals and loaded us pilgrims into her VW van to a beautiful spot by the river for a picnic dinner and sunset. On the drive home we got to see the sunset 4 more times as we drove up and down the hills.

The next morning my foot felt at least 80%, so I evaluated along the way and ended up walking a long day to get back on track with my original schedule. Each day I’ve felt better and stronger, to the point that now I’m not even requiring dressings.

I’ve made a Camino community along the way. The vast majority of the time I walk alone, but I see my friends randomly at coffee breaks, food stops, and unexpected times along the way. It’s so strange when I don’t see a particular friend for a couple of days, then I walk around a bend and there he/she is. For me it’s been the perfect mix of solitude and social time.

I’ve still been staying as much as I can in volunteer run alburgues. On day I walked into a near ghost town – clearly it’s only lifelines are the church and bar. In my guidebook it said to go to the bar and ask Vitor for the key to the alburgue (the basement of a church building). Vitor didn’t speak any English nor I Portuguese, so he was speaking to me in French and I was answering in Spanish. The communication was so natural that I had walked away before I actually thought about how incredible it was.

Later that night I returned to the bar for dinner. They didn’t have a menu – the bartender said the choices were ‘omelet or meat’. Served with salad, chips, and some slices of an exquisite cheese, the omelet was one of my best Camino meals so far. When I asked about the cheese I was told that it’s made locally and cannot be purchased in a store. This is rural Portugal at it’s best.

Portigal’s most intact Roman ruins are right beside the route so I visited, having a nice break from my backpack.

This morning I had a short foggy walk into the city of Coimbra. I had lined up my route to have almost a full day to explore the city.

The university here is one of the oldest in the world, established in 1290. It has been put on the UNESCO World Heritage List. The students wear robes like at Hogwarts.

One of the highlights is the baroque library, which is also a little like Harry Potter. A fun fact is that there is a bat colony that lives in the library to help ward off insects that want to eat the ancient books. Every night staff covers all of the tables with leather to protect them from bat droppings.

There is no shortage of beautiful churches, monuments, and sights around town.

In the morning I’m back on the Camino, heading north to Seradelo. Buen Camino.

When I decided to walk the Camino Portuguese I knew that it would be different than my experience on the Camino Frances in 2015. Even though I know this, it’s still been very difficult for me not to be constantly comparing the two. The first 5 days have been challenging, both physically and mentally. I’ve been focusing on using this as an opportunity for growth. I’ve been trying to work on being present. Each time my mind brings me to the comparison of 4 years ago, I gently remind myself to focus on this moment. 

I’ve only seen about 5 pilgrims per day, so I’ve been doing a lot of solitary walking. After a couple of hours my brain usually tires of the constant internal chatter and it becomes a kind of walking meditation; an opportunity to hear the sounds of the birds and my footsteps, to see the scenery, and to feel the sensations (unfortunately 2 days were the sensations of misty rain).  There have been many stretches of road walking, sometimes on the ‘almost non existent’ shoulder of a busy highway. This has helped me to appreciate the times the path weaves through vineyards, farmers’ fields, and forest.

I’ve been trying to stay in the locations that are staffed by volunteers rather than private alburgues. I guess it’s kind of a ‘kindness of strangers’ type of experiment. I’ve stayed 2 nights in firehouses (the firefighters often let pilgrims stay for a donation), a church-run alburgue, and a hospital (it may have been a mental hospital). The variety and kindness has been wonderful.

I’ve developed some blisters on my right foot. For the record these aren’t dainty little things, but more like the sole of my foot is looking a bit like macaroni bologna. 

Sorry for that visual. Unfortunately my strategy of doing nothing but walking 30+ kms per day and hoping that they’ll turn to calluses has been (surprisingly) ineffective. So on my rest stop in a town today I went to the local pharmacy hoping to get some of the products typical to all pharmacies in the world: maybe some sterile needles, antiseptic, bandaids, or tape. After explaining my problem the pharmacist shook her head that she could provide me with nothing to help. She then gave me this gesture.

I believe it is the universal sign for ‘suck it up’. 

When I got to my next destination I made a decision that I believe shows my personal growth better than words can. I’ve taken an unscheduled rest day to give my foot a break. To be honest, this obvious sign of weakness has rocked my world a bit. 

The saying is ‘the Camino provides’ and I’ve seen no better town to spend a ‘blister day’. Tomar has well stocked, friendly pharmacies and already my foot is looking and feeling a lot less angry. The Templars castle at the top of the hill is an attraction that I’m glad I didn’t miss. 

I’m pretty sure I’m going to be able to walk tomorrow, but I’ve shortened my planned distance to ensure I don’t overdo it. Serindipidously I’ve heard that at my destination there is a volunteer run alburgue that also does yoga, meditation, and massages. It wasn’t in my guidebook, so another example of Camino magic.

The past 2 weeks in Portugal has been quite a treat, especially being with family. When my parents and I left Lisbon for the south coast RobO was supposed to be on his way home, but due to pilot illness he ended up having a bonus 24 hours in Lisbon without us. It was a blessing in disguise as he missed the big snowstorm and flight disasters that day in Calgary.

We arrived at our timeshare resort in Albufeira, a city in the Algarve area on the south coast. It’s the kind of place that makes me wish I liked swimming (or getting wet at all!). Despite the beautiful pool and beach my swimsuit has stayed tucked away in my backpack. Every day the forecast is 23 and not a cloud in the sky, though in the sun it must be more like 28. The condo is a 1 bedroom, but it also has a skinny little bunk bed in the hallway where a closet would fit. I’ve been calling it my ‘Harry Potter bed’.

We took a boat trip along the coastline and into the famous Benagil cave. We were so lucky as it was a calm day without a breath of wind so our catamaran could get really deep inside the cave. I had read reviews that said that in rough waters some tours could not even attempt to enter. The coastline along the way had lots of beautiful views.

The famous cave as we got closer, then into it:

My dad rented a car which has been really handy to explore the towns along the coast each day.

We started with the pretty town of Lagos and the westernmost point on the continent.

We enjoyed the winding drive up to the inland town of Monchique, right beside the highest point in Portugal. There is a monastery that was destroyed in an earthquake in the 1700s.

My favorite day was the day that we hiked along the coastline. A well maintained trail hugs the coastline along the cliffs and reveals beautiful (and nearly private at this time of year) beaches. It makes my ‘best hikes I’ve done in the world’ list.

As you would expect we have been eating our fill of fresh seafood. One day my mom and I splurged on a fresh red snapper that we picked from the cooler.

Our farewell dinner was the local specialty of Cataplana, which is basically a big pot of fish and seafood. Yum.

Now it’s time for my parents to fly solo, armed with their well practiced map app and all further transportation booked. They have another week here, then Spain for 2 weeks, Italy for 1, and a Mediterranean cruise finale. Too bad they don’t have a travel blog! As for me, I’m headed back up to Lisbon to start walking the Camino Portuguese.