Camino Portugués Day 6 - Valinhas to Ponte de Lima

I’ve not planned any proper rest days for this trip, as it’s only just over a fortnight of walking and I think I’m well capable of doing it all without a complete day off. But I have planned in a couple of shorter days. Fortunately, today was one of them, as the weather is really ramping up. It’s due to be very hot until at least the weekend, so having a day that was only 8 or so miles today was very handy. My lovely hostel didn’t offer breakfast, so once I’d made use of my hammock to drink a cup of tea, the first job was to get something to eat on top of the apple that I grabbed from the kitchen.

I’d been told there would be something a km or so away, but the best they could offer was a plasticky muffin and a cafe com leite. Another good job that it’s not a long day.

I had a couple of lovely moments this morning talking to loved ones on the phone which was a treat. It’s great doing this, but it’s also lovely to be in touch with home too. I’m not lonely, but I obviously miss my family and friends, and it gave me a boost talking to Carly and Tasha.

There was a little hill coming out of the village of Vitoria das Piaes, and I could feel my muscles stretching out and getting used to the day. So far I’m blessed with no niggles of any sort, and my Ultraventure 4 Topo trail shoes are currently a triumph. They would win no style prizes, as the wide toe box makes them look a bit like something a clown would wear, but then when was I ever going to win style prizes?

The vineyards periodically stretched over the road over the road and there were plenty of water troughs for pilgrims to keep hydrated. Some of these seem ancient, they have probably got stories to tell.

Just as I’d been admiring the mixture of archaic and modern houses built into the hillside in Cresto, I met Renata from Canada , who was photographing the astonishing Calla lillies that were profuse over the woodland. We agreed that a photo probably wouldn’t do them justice, and indeed that has come to pass

We talked about UK walking, and I was exhorting her to walk the Coast to Coast one day - my blog about that is on a different site, and you can find it at  https://janesbigwalk.weebly.com/

I walked on.  The countryside and the walking was bordering on perfection, lots of shade, totally quiet with no other walkers, easy underfoot, expansive views of vineyards and olive trees, just the sound of cocks crowing and rumble of the odd tractor.

And then I came across the chapel of Sâo Sebastio, built in the medieval times to guard against the plague. There were granite benches in the shade where I could have the last mouthful of the emergency protein bar left over from yesterday.

I was joined by Renata and Ari from NYC and Tina & Austin from San Diego.

Ari told me about Jane’s Walks in NYC set up by Jane Jacobs. These are a series of free community led ‘walking conversations’ held in the city. They sound great, if I’m ever there in May I will definitely check them out.

We talked together about why I write the blog, and about how I’ve felt so far that instead of detracting from the experience it is making me more present to what’s around me.

Leaving them behind, the path was quiet again, vines on one side and an astonishingly luxuriant hedge of jasmine on the other. Just like I could have captured the Calla lillies, I wish I could properly record just how intense the scent was - it was the last layer of joy on top of the other senses.

There was a statue of a hearty peregrino, which was just a bit too high to step up to safely. I thought that injuring myself whilst taking a selfie felt a bit ridiculous, but I clambered up anyway.

Coming into Bouca there was an extraordinary property for sale. I took the details….

I stopped in the village of Guerra for another coffee and a pastel, which was much more satisfactory than the muffin of earlier. I love these little cafes, they have all been busy with local people popping in for a tiny coffee and a quick conversation before moving on with the rest of their day. And the customers are almost always friendly and greet me with a ‘bom Camino’. Here I also met one of the few Brits I’ve seen so far on the Camino, who had just run his hat under the tap to keep cool. That’s how we roll in England.

I haven’t seen many farm animals as yet, the agriculture has been much more about vineyards and small holdings. So it was nice to say hi to some sheep as I passed them - I was envious of their shade.

A spectacular lemon had fallen from its tree. I considered letting it have a ride in my rucksack, but reckoned that, unlike the latest news from Robbie Williams, I wasn’t currently in danger of scurvy.  Even if my diet appears to be mainly nata and chips.

In Anta I stood in the shade for a while and watched the martins going in and out of the ancient buildings. What a privilege, to have the time to just stop and watch.

I caught up with an Aussie and an American and their partners who had met on the Camino Norte in 2023 and had chosen to walk this one together. This path brings people together in Dutch an extraordinary way. As we agreed when we met up later today, the experience is as much about the human connections as the experience of walking. We admired a medieval bridge together, and I noted the laundry by the side of the river that someone was clearly planning on washing later.

Approaching Ponte de Lima I could feel the cool of the river before I could see it. The sight of the ancient bridge made me gasp in delight, even when it was partly obscured by the modern one. It was built in Roman times, and according to my Buen Camino app was mistaken by Roman centurions as the bridge over the river Lethe into Hades. That’s another fable that asks as many questions as it answers.

I sat on a bench in the shade and watched children having a kayak lesson on the river (maybe it was a school activity?  If so, that’s the coolest) and drank it all in before heading into the town to find some lunch - I had a couple of hours to kill before check in at my hostel.

I chose Solar da Picola as they offered a peregrino menu - proper authentic peasant food of sardines potatoes and cabbage with a massive salad and a beer. I reckoned that would do for an hour or so…

And then one of those Camino moments. I went to check in at my hostel, to be told that there was a problem with my room, as the previous occupants broke the lock last night. The owner said sadly that she couldn’t let me stay there. Just as I was imagining trekking up to the municipal albergue, she grinned and said that she had upgraded me. My accommodation tonight is a two bedroom apartment, right in the centre of town, in an ancient building kept cool by its thick walls. She laughed when she realised I was from the UK and said I would feel like the Queen in my palatial pad. She wasn’t wrong.

After an hour or so of the normal ablutions, washing clothes that dried so quickly in the baking sun on my balcony and trying to cool off a bit, I wandered round the town. Ponte de Lima is lovely, being elegant and accommodating both holiday makers and pilgrims with style. I took a moment of cool in the church, was delighted to find a proper gelateria, and took my chocolate ice cream down to the water to lead my platoon of centurions over the Lethe, despite their reservations.

I spent some time double checking my plans for the next week, and buying some supplies for tomorrow, as I’m going to set off very early. It’s forecast to be 32 degrees plus by noon tomorrow, and I have a big hill to climb, best to get out there in the cool. I decided to hold back from a slab of salted cod for breakfast, and have bought a more conventional croissant instead.

I popped out for a snack for tea, and was joined by more and more of my friends from the last few days. We agreed that this is one of the best things, this feeling of being in a walking village.  The conversations ranged all over politics, teaching, the differences between UK and US taxation systems, and then a wonderful moment of learning about the linguistics of sign language from Bill, one of the Americans I met earlier,  who was watching the sign interpreter on the TV news in our bar. His parents were deaf mute, and from them he learnt ASL. He can understand French and Portuguese sign language far more easily than the British/Australian/NZ version, as the systems are different. That blew my mind. Another brilliant evening, I go to bed excited about what adventure the next day will bring.

Stats

Distance travelled - 8.5 miles/14km

Total ascent - 453 feet/138m

Local tipple - still lemonade as an alternate to fizzy water. And a Bock beer

Today’s motivating sign (in my apartment) - ‘you were born to be real, not to be perfect’

Hmmm.