Chapter 27
It’s Sunday 19th April and it has been a pretty long day.
My day actually started very early as I accompanied Nicky to the airport at 03.15 on Sunday morning.
The early start provided a ‘first’ for me; and one more objective off my bucket list.
I booked an Uber!
Well not strictly true, because it was actually a ‘Bolt!’
In my book that’s pretty much the same difference.
No big deal for you big city folk.
But, this small town country boy has never EVER booked an Uber before.
Or a Bolt.
It’s been one of the more bizarre wishes on my rather extensive bucket list!
That: and walking the height of Portugal.
There is now a fair to middling chance that I might have done both by the end of this week.
Spain is just around the corner.
“Oh this year I’m going to sunny Spain, y viva Espana ….”🎵
(That really was a terrible song from back in the day: I apologise for giving it airspace!)
Yesterday, Nicky and I spent our final day together, ‘mooching’ around Porto: for the third full day.
It really does punch as a city break.
What a great city!
We’ve had a blast, seen lots of cool things, met lovely people and had a lot of fun together.
And: …..
Here it comes: the big bonus……
My feet have started to feel a bit better.
“These boots were (actually) made for walking”, 🎵 it transpires.
Another shocking song. I previously vowed to not even mention it.
See ‘Mea Culpa’ in tomorrow’s blog.
But no Peregrinos I know, has feet made for walking 460+ miles, in 24 consecutive days.
Everyone I know, barring Lisa ‘Lightfoot’ from Australia, is handling and managing their own foot pain.
It is like a menu: just not the most tasty mind you.
It might be impact pain, heel hurt, shin splints, or blisters of the bubble or bloody sort.
Sometimes they all collide.
Then it becomes a very big OUCH!
Just like poor old Glenn suffered, back on the trail, in Lisbon.,
We Peregrinos share ideas on foot care, offer sympathy and support and we pool our resources.
Kindness is as familiar to us as the scallop shell signposts, that are now more prevalent, as we get nearer to Santiago.
Compeed almost has a black market currency of its own on the Camino.
Dodgy ‘peed’ deals are often done in dark dormitories.
‘Compeed is King’.
Though I’m not a major fan.
I feel it makes a wet blister even wetter.
And so, even sorer.
But that’s just my personal perspective:I
Not necessarily correct.
‘What works for the goose (SOMETIMES) works for the gander’.
Tomorrow afternoon, (Monday) my youngest sister Lizzie arrives in Porto, loaded with a new batch of ‘peed’.
All for personal use: mine too if I need it.
Worry not: it’s not weed.
She’s also bringing a ‘stash of sheep’s wool’.
She’s going to be everyone’s ‘Brand New Friend’, 🎵 as we walk along the trail.
Best we keep that secret supply: SECRET.
“Keep it safe, keep it secret’. (LOTR) – obviously!
No one moans too much about their foot pain.
Some choose to keep their own counsel.
To silently suffer.
I don’t moan much: I just report the facts.
A Camino usually carries a cost to the feet.
If you can’t hack that reality then you might be best staying at home.
I guess I’m just trying to keep my feet usable:
For 2 more weeks.
An ear worm song for me over the last days has been ‘You better watch your step”🎵, by Elvis Costello.
Understandable and justified I believe.
Stubbing a blistered toe is not an experience I wish to have.
Whilst it was a quieter weekend on the walking front, Nicky and I still managed to average nearly 7 miles each day whilst enjoying our Porto city break.
7 miles of walking, spread over 10+ hours, with plenty of rest stops, is nothing like walking 20+ miles every day, day after day.
It was that chilled, cool city walking, perfected by most tourists, that is best summed up in the word ‘mooch’.
Or in our context:
“We went for a walk around Porto and mooched around the Port houses for a bit.”
Saturday’s highlights came thick and fast.
It started with me perfecting my unique design for a safe picnic knife carrier.
A home designed scabbard for my very sharp picnic knife.N
O more finger slices hopefully!
My designer children Rosie and Harry will be very proud I’m sure, though the design probably leans more towards practical function than to style.
Cool and vibrant street art: always looks better set against that vibrant blue sky.
3 chatterboxes hooked up together conversing in time with their foot steps.
I bet they didn’t have sore feet!
Fruitless fishing on the Douro River.
Gaily coloured port barges, with their long tillers trailing in the water.
Brightly coloured art work from local artisans.
‘Tyre-d’ turtles made out of rubberised offcuts. What a great idea!
An artist painting in the warm summer sun.
A marching band leading a procession of mostly older ‘Lions’ up and down the street.
On repeat.
I guess the Lions is a charitable organisation in Portugal.
A bit like Rotary at home.
It was really hot and those poor people were dressed up.
The ladies wore stilettos.
Not great footwear on Portuguese cobbles.
I wonder if they disliked those spiteful little stones, as much as me?
I was worried for their wellbeing.
It felt like a ‘heat exhaustion combo’.
Temperature, age, formal and thick winter clothing and marching at pace up and down a sizzling quayside.
Not my idea of fun.
I was already frying in my shorts and the marching band were going faster and faster.
“Boom, boom, boomity boom”, went the big bass drum. 🥁
Resulting in more ear worm for me, for the next hour.
Fine if you are fit young teenagers in trainers.
Less so if you are into your 8th decade and suited and booted in 25+ degrees:
At midday!
And they compare Englishmen to ‘mad dogs’ for venturing out in the midday sun!
Nuts,
My readiness to leap into first aid action was thankfully unnecessary.
The marching band and its elderly entourage disappeared out of view.
Meanwhile my RHD (Red Hot Date ❤️) strutted her stuff on the quayside boardwalks.
Cool as a cucumber!
Insta-ready: though she never does instagram.
Stiletto free too.
If you’ve got the class, you don’t necessarily need the 👠s!
We pottered up into the back streets of Gaia.
Gaia is on the opposite side of the river, to Porto.
More interesting street art.
It’s ‘Port’ history evidenced on every street.
Street art with meaning?
But what was it?
Terracotta tiled treats in every direction.
Cable cars gliding above the contoured streets.
We chatted to a lovely young lady called Ana Luisa, a young designer, managing a small shop selling the work of local artists.
She told us more about the Portuguese lifestyle.
Average salaries are around €800-€1,000 per month, with rent often costing €600+.
Not easy for local people.
Tourism is a key component of Porto and Portugal’s economy, but even so, it remains a country where people have to live on the financial edge.
Ana said that UNESCO status has made housing much less affordable for local people.
Especially the younger generations.
Sounds familiar?
Different city, different country =
Same European problems.
It was mid afternoon and hot.
We returned towards the bridge and chilled in the park known as Jardim do Morro.
The old monastery stood silently above us.
A talented busker entertained the sun-downers.
We enjoyed our ice creams.
“It’s a kind of magic”. 🎵
We had a terrific day.
“Such a perfect day: I’m glad I spent it with you!” 🎵
We met up with some of the remaining members of my ‘C’Amigo Bubble’ first forged in Lisbon.
We went out for drinks and then dinner.A
Bd toasted our absent friends: Camino Steve, Glenn and Evan (‘Almighty’👌) .
Then it was home to bed for a few hours, before that 03.00 airport alarm!
And, one thing heads to another. It was tin
E to ‘Bolt’ to the airport and bid:
“Adeus Nicky” – until 3 May. 💕
Meanwhile, over in a beautiful French village called Cordes, an hour and half north east of Toulouse, in south western France; the Jones family were marking what should have been Hannah’s 25th birthday on Saturday.
They are a family who are determined to celebrate Hannah’s life and create a joyful legacy that lives on, in the charity that bears her name.
‘Les Histoires d’ Hannah’.
They organised a big artisan’s market.
And the people came in their droves.
To twist a line that my sister Lizzie has often used in her own writing since the tragic news of her daughter’s death:
“They were determined to turn a Mourning in to a celebration Morning!’
I’m proud of them all.
Hannah would have been too.
https://canva.link/r04m15vmh3wptfp
Lizzie wrote on Saturday night:
“How do I even begin to describe yesterday?
Thank you so much to everyone who sent birthday messages for Hannah, and an even bigger thank you to those who came out to support us at the market. It truly meant the world.
A special thank you to Agnes Rayssac ….merci de tout mon cœur 💛
And a huge thank you to Auros for allowing us to take over the place.
It was a beautiful day filled with sunshine and such a lovely atmosphere. We raised an incredible amount of money and were able to spread the word about Les Histoires d’Hannah. We wrapped it all up with fire juggling and karaoke—honestly, the perfect ending.
I’m beyond proud of the entire Les Histoires d’Hannah team. (David had popped home to let the dog out, and Frank is back in the UK on duty, so they sadly missed the team photo.) Thank you all for your hard work and dedication in helping Hannah’s legacy continue to grow, and for celebrating her birthday in true Jones style.
She would have been so proud of you all—and would have loved every single moment.
I love you all. 💛🌻
https://canva.link/r04m15vmh3wptfp
Well done Team Jones.
If you wish to support the Jones family, Hannah’s legacy and my own 600 mile ‘Portuguese Plod’ to support them, please click the link below.
Thank you so much if you do.
And in a late news flash:
Lizzie is on route to join me.
She left home this morning at 08.00.
With a very pert backpack that she claims to weigh in at under 6kg!
(Typical! I knew she would try to beat my 6.5 kg)
Competitive Sisters! 🙄
In 4 hours time at 14.05, she should touch down at Porto airport.
And I will be there to meet her!
And we will start walking our 260 km / 170 mile Camino to Santiago de Compostella.
Thank you for the read.
Buen Camino C’Amigos.
Martin x
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!
Martin Moorman 
Continue to love your photography and updates.
David and I also used his Uber app for thr first time this year in Portugal .
im sure you will having the company of your Sis. Over the next two weeks.
I loved the little glass sunflowers in memory of Hannah with the ribbon
I would somehow love to purchase one and it would go on my christmas tree each year. If possible let me know how
xx
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