Chapter 11
Hola Peregrinos,
It is 3pm on Thursday 2 April: my late sister Anna’s birthday.
Anna died in 2017.
Today she would have been 65.
We all miss her!
I’m sat on a big green ferry having made it to the peninsula crossing from Troia to Setubal, 1 day’s walk from Lisbon Cathedral where we collect our Credentials or Pilgrim Passports.
These make us official members of the Camino Portuguese and allow us priority use Albugues: ie Camino hostels.
According to Google:
“The Camino pilgrim credential (credencial) is an official “passport” used to collect stamps (sellos) along the Way of St. James, verifying your journey to earn the Compostela certificate in Santiago. It allows access to pilgrim-only hostels (albergues), and must be stamped daily, especially for the last 100km walking or 200km cycling.”
Should we get to Santiago de Compostella by the end of April, it will also allow us to claim our ‘Certificate of Completion’ or ‘Compostella’, marking our whole journey from Cape St. Vincent to Santiago.
600 miles.
Probably less….. but not by much.
Welcome to Day 10 of our stroll up Portugal.
This blog gives you a flavour of our journey yesterday on Wednesday 1 April, from Melides to Logoa Formosa.
Of course all over the world, April 1 is celebrated as All Fool’s or April Fools Day.
Only ‘Mad dogs and Englishmen go out in the midday sun.’
The joke was on us.
We were those fools!
Our journey started on 24th March, when we walked west from our lodgings in Sagres in SW Portugal to the extreme ‘Lands End’ equivalent of Cape St Vincent.
I remember that day clearly.
A 17 km day: that’s about 10 miles.
Easy distance right?I
It wasn’t particularly.
It was hot and all I carried was a water bottle, (which ran out), and my legs felt like 2 x 50 Kg concrete!
Scroll forward 9 days and we are walking double that distance every day and my legs no longer feel heavy.
I seem to have found my ‘Camino legs’.
Camino Steve has too.
Which is great news!
That being said, yesterday was probably our toughest day on the trail.
A number of circumstances contributed to this.
We had a ‘hike throw together’ breakfast in our Airbnb.
It was tasty, but probably not substantial enough.
For me at least.
Have a reputation for the size of my lunchbox! 😜
Walking 20 miles a day, on repeat, exacerbates it.
Have I mentioned my love affair with eggs ‘n mushrooms before? 😜
That was a tasty treat but probably didn’t hold enough calories for the energy we were going to extend on the subsequent walk.
We both had sore, but not debilitating feet issues and there was no cafe, bar or restaurant for us to target until we reached Lagoa Formosa, a couple of km west of Carvalhal, where we were staying for the night.
Additionally, we made the schoolboy errors of not carrying or finding enough water.
Whilst never dehydrated, we both had a raging thirst by the finish.
And the weather was hot!
Mungo Jerry sort of hot!
A 24 degree day according to the Met Office, but much warmer in reality.
We set off just after 07.30.
I am usually a quick packer, but for an unknown reason, it seemed to take me an age to get my stuff ready.
What do the British Army say about being action ready?
The famous 7 P’s.
‘P*ss Poor Preparation Produces P*ss Poor Performance’.
“Language Timothy”.🤷♂️
Apologies: no offence intended!S
One times ‘it JUST is what it is!’
No matter.
We headed off along a busy section of road, which we were pleased to abandon to more tranquil trails, after about 20 minutes.
I must have seen a million fir cones yesterday.
Some were big: but never big enough for my girl!A
He deserves better!
I’m hoping to find an absolute whopper for Nicky, before this walk is done.
The air in those lovely eucalyptus woods, was cool and we made decent progress.
As the morning progressed, so the heat increased.
The vegetation was lush, green and full of spring strength.
The grasses caught my eye today, more than the flowers.
“Red and yellow and pink and green.”🎵
They were magnificent.
The walking got harder: sandy trails returned.
Deep ankle clogging sand, which carries s double whammy as it ‘fills yer boots’ too!
The sandy inclines in some of those dunes was steep and tiring.I
Occasionally annoying.
It annoyances can and should be a short term thing.
This was.
“It is what it is” is another of Camino Steve’s sayings.
It was an appropriate throughout yesterday though.
Quietly reassuring.
When you just accept that for the next hour it will be hard, it doesn’t really matter if it is. I
F course it still is.
But it really is a mindset thing.
Neither of us moaned.
We just cracked on!
I listened to a podcast about my football team.
Troubling times in Bristol it seems.
I was glad to be away from it.
Did I say previously that I’m pigged off with our billionaire owner?
If I didn’t, then here it is for the record.
We walked through an extensive construction site: several kilometres long.
It was hot and dusty.
And ugly.
We guess it will be a luxury golf complex.
A shame to see nature being ripped up again, but that’s the cost of ‘progress’ if you see private golf course construction as being progress!
I did fill up my water bottle here.
It was to prove to be our last opportunity to refresh our bottles for the day.
It was an ‘out of context’ construction site in that we hadn’t experienced anything like it, during the previous 10 days.
It was a bit of a visual shock.
The ocean was roaring again, but it was about 7 miles into our walk before we saw it.
When Lee did: BOY!!!!
Wow! So nice, so nice to be reacquainted!
As stunning as ever.
We found 2 benches: big enough to be beds, where we ate our ‘throw together’ lunch.
A bread roll, hard boiled egg (yes more eggs😜) and an apple.
Tasty: but rationed for sure!
In the distance we could make out the sprawling mass that is Lisbon: just 2 days walking away now.
At that point we agreed a strategy change.
It was time to embrace the sand!
Not slander it!
We decided to follow the beach and paddle – walk along the shallows.
Refreshing in a stinging sort of way, for sore feet.
Anyone remember the ‘footsteps’ analogy?
I did.
Reminded of 2 years ago when I walked ‘alone!’
In truth I wasn’t alone.
None of us ever are.
I ‘selfied in the surf’ in my floppy floppy hat!
It was so lovely, but flipping hard work too.
That sand was soft and sinky.
AGAIN!
Perfect for building sand castles, less so for long distance trail trekking.
We both found it hot and hard.
It was ironic.
On one hand it was so lovely to splash along in our bare feet.
On the other, so hard at every step your feet sank inches into sand, or a random Atlantic roller nearly overwhelmed you.
We walked a good mile along that beautiful beach, before an opportunity arose for us to ‘abandon ship ‘and scale the crumbling cliffs adjacent to the beach.
Camino Steve had one last play in the surf.
You can’t take the boy out of the man.
Then it was 10 minutes of de-sanding our feet, before gritty boots once again, gripped sea softened soles.
It was a tough climb off that beach for both of us.Stev
Cabbages better than me as my finger holds have way.
‘The foolish man built his boardwalk on the sand!’ 🎵🤷♂️
The crumbling boardwalk was no more: washed away by a combination of recent storms and time.
We scaled those cliffs and entered a ‘land that time forgot’.
Was it a ‘luxury’ holiday camp from the 1960’s?
Maybe it was the former dwellings of a small fishing community .
Whatever it had been, it retained a rustic charm, but also carried an air of sadness for me.
This had been the home to a community: now long gone.
The wild flowers there were stunning.
It saddened and intrigued me at the same time.
If only those sun bleached timbers could talk.
A couple of those hits still bore signs of human habitation
We saw no one though: all empty yet the Portuguese holiday season has started.
But one house still had some rudimentary solar panels in the garden: testimony to a more modern influence on a mid 1950/60’s dwelling.
We left the ‘village of the damned’ and gradually contorted round to the track.
Hot and hilly: our shortage of water became apparent.
We finally reached the slightly cooler pine trees and zig zagged our way along the labyrinth of trail paths, towards our target.
We cut the corners on every footpath square, but it was hard work.
The sandy trail test was replaced by timber: piles of branches, stacks of twigs, fir cones by the thousands.
It was shin scrappingly hard work.
When we did escape the work of the lumberjacks, we hit that old nutmeg again: sinking sand!
Our bottles were long dry.
So it was a relief when we hit another construction area: albeit it in its infancy.
Another 2 km along a road that was truly ‘a road to nowhere’.🎵
We saw a parked vehicle ahead of us: a uniformed female officer sat in the shade.
She had the longest, reddest false finger nails I had ever seen and bright red lipstick to match.
She could have been dressed for a Bristol City football match! 🔴⚪️
As we said “Hola” and proceeded forwards she told us with a voice of authority that the road was closed.
She seemed pretty insistent: but so were we.
It was clear a diplomatic incident was brewing.
We spoke no Portuguese and she spoke no English.
In desperation I resorted to Google translate.
She eyed us up and down.
She said nothing.
Then she saw that steely glint in Camino Steve’s eye.
The one that takes no prisoners.
She backed off, relented and allowed us through.
Why the roadblock?
We still have no idea.
Our route took us over a perfectly sculpted golf course.
Empty!
Which was a bit weird.
The irony hit me that the grass on that course was more watered than us!
We found a shady tree and took a 10 minutes break.
From then on it was 30 minutes to our lodgings: ‘Paradie Breeze’.
It was lovely to find our home for thrr we night and fine a pint of cold water.
After a shower I sauntered down to the beach before dinner.
Wow!
Unbelievable again.
Jake’s complimentary Crocs even complimented those twisted and gnarly boards.
I might migrate.
I could be a beach bum: silver fox style of course!
That boardwalk was worth an extra snap.
Camino Steve and I are united in our love of springy Portuguese boardwalks.
Even the street art looked cool!
Another day completed.
Okay, it was harder.
But like the 10 before it, so, so good!
Tomorrow night we make Lisbon!
Thanks for the read.
Buen Camino.
Martin x
If you don’t realise why, I’m walking the Camino Portuguese, plus 240 extra km, to support the charity my sister’s family have established. as they mourn the senseless death of her youngest daughter Hannah.
Hannah was killed by a drunk driver, driving on the wrong side of the motorway in SW France. I
F you are tempted to drink and then drive, please don’t.
You won’t intend it.
He man who did this in France never intended this outcome I’m sure.
But his reckless behaviour had thrust tragedy on a normal, close family. It has also devastated his own life I’m sure.
Later this year he will stand in court accused of causing Hannah’s death by drink driving.
Justice will prevail I hope.
But it won’t bring Hannah back.
The link to sponsor me is below.
Thank you if you do or have done.
Martin Moorman is a 61 year old retired Headteacher who lives with his wife Nicky, daughter and her family in North Yorkshire, UK.
Happily married for 36 years, Martin and Nicky have 3 grown up children, all happily married too. In his spare time Martin loves walking, photography, football, renovating cooking and talking rubbish to anyone who will listen!
Yeaterdays Question
What is the name of the incense burner traditionally swung at the ‘Pilgrim’s Mass‘ in Santiago Cathedral?
Answer:
Botafumeiro
Today’s Question
How long is the official Camino Portuguese from Lisbon to Santiago?
Martin Moorman 
Great photos today Martin.
I think you need to start carrying a pine cone with you and exchange it when you find a bigger and better one .
youve left aome pretty good ones behind now going by your photo evidence
happy Easter to you
x
LikeLike