Chapter 32
Hola Peregrinos,
It is an early ‘Good morning’ from Baiona in Northern Spain.
Early start, late walking.
It’s now 11.00 and I’ve still only walked 3 km, had 3 coffees: one in the posh Paramore Hotel up inside the fort, that dominates the skyline in these parts, the other 2 in a more modest beachfront cafe. I’ve just bought more drugs (ibruprofen) to support my Santiago Surge.
Where’s my ‘dealer’ when I need him?
Michael from California headed west on Thursday.
I hope to see him again on Monday in Pontevedra, along with my 3 C’Amigos ‘from a land down under’🎵
I hope you are all enjoying a lovely weekend.
Apparently, according to my ‘spy in the camp’ (ie my RHD❤️😜) you have found the summer!
‘Here comes the summer’. 🎵
Congratulations Blighty!
I won’t rub it in I promise.
Even so:
Just ‘Go Compare’.
England 🏴 0 1 Spain 🇪🇸
It probably counts as pyrrhic victory to be honest.
I’m not massively enamoured by the thought of covering more kilometres in 27 degrees:
With ‘sobbing soles’ too.
That forecast looks quite tough for the next 4 days, especially as the ‘actual’ temperature, compared to that forecast, can often be a few degrees higher.
It will be what it will be!
Case sera, sera.
My mojo is a touch down today.
But I’ll push on eventually.
“It is what it is,” to quote a certain peregrino.
On the subject of Camino Steve, he is about 60 kilometres ahead of me, in Pontevedra.
I finally heard via the Camino jungle drums about Camino Steve’s whereabouts.
He strides out for Santiago de Compostella this Monday morning after a rest day on yesterday: Friday.
He should be there by Monday afternoon.
He will be home Tuesday.
Puff! All gone.
All done.
Cripes!
A fantastic achievement.
‘Let’s hear it for the boy’. 🎵👏
So lots more ‘Reasons to be cheerful’🎵 parts 10, 11 and 12.
My music choice for today’s chapter wasn’t an easy one.
Lizzie had already suggested Elton John’s ‘I’m still standing’ and I had at least 3 other credible choices.
All strong.
All valid.
All connected to Camino themes like journey, graft, never giving up, roads, pain, wonder, cost, ‘keep on going’ ..…..
‘Blah, blah, blah.’
But today’s song choice, my choice, won the day.
The Verve’s ‘Bittersweet Symphony’ has a distinctive sound.
Think ‘Match of the Day’ and it’s ‘Goal of the Month’ competition for a start.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1lyu1KKwC74
I played it as I walked yesterday and as I passed along that beautiful coastline.
Its rhythm coordinated perfectly with those roaring Atlantic rollers.
Press down on the link to play the song.
I’m sure you will recognise it.
Not only is it a banging tune.
It very accurately conveys my feelings over the last 48 hours.
I still have very mixed emotions even as I type.
Especially after receiving this message from my sister this morning as I was typing the early part of this blog.
Lizzie wrote:
“A very good friend of mine often says, “Chacun son chemin” — each person has their own path.
How true that feels.
There are more than eight billion people in the world, and every one of us is walking our own way through life. If we’re lucky, we don’t walk it entirely alone. Some people join us only briefly, others stay much longer, but in the end, it is still our own path to follow.
And those paths are rarely smooth or straight.
They twist and turn, rise and fall.
One day the sun shines, the next the storm clouds gather.
Sometimes they take us somewhere unexpected — somewhere we never intended to go.
Our own unpredictable Camino through life.
In July last year, mine took a dark and frightening turn, into a place no parent should ever have to go. It has been the hardest walk of my life. And although it is mine to walk, just as Hannah’s dad and siblings each have their own paths, we walk side by side — and that is how we keep going.
A few days ago, I set out to walk a Camino of my own with my brother Martin. After three days and 66 kilometers of walking, injury has forced me to stop, and I am now on my way home.
It is not what I had planned, and I won’t pretend I’m not disappointed. But I know it is just part of the journey, and I trust my path will bring me this way again in the future.
Martin — I hope the rest of your walk goes really well. I will be thinking of you every step of the way. What you have achieved so far is incredible, and I am enormously proud of you.
To Martin, and to all of you walking your own Caminos — real or metaphorical — I wish you a Buen Camino.
💛🌻
She has a way with words that girl!
Gulp! 😥
I’m encouraging her to write a book.
It might well be cathartic.
It will undoubtedly be painful.
Back to ……. Bittersweet
ELATION because I’m so close to my goal.
ELATION because my sponsorship target has been smashed, though I really would love to raise £3,000 for ‘Hannah’s Stories.’
I’m currently on £2,654!
If you feel inclined to sponsor me to get a bit closer to that £3K total, I would be so grateful.
Particularly as I’m now ‘Sir Limpalot’, all over again.
Please click the link below to do so.
Ps: I really do love round numbers! 😜
Please remember too:
‘It’s all about the girl’. 🎵
Well 2 of them actually.
Hannah and Lizzie.
ELATION because so many of my C’Amigos from this journey are on the cusp of reaching their goal too:
Santiago de Compostella looms.
I congratulate them all.
I’ve walked there 3 times.
It will mean different things for each of them: joy, contentment, peace, excitement, sorrow, satisfaction….,
The ending of this, my fourth 500+ mile Camino will feel very special.
But here’s a reminder to myself and to all those who finish:
Our Camino’s really are much more than the target. They are:
‘All about the journey and not so much about the destination!’
Santiago matters of course, but what really matters most is how the experience has shaped us.
ELATION that I’m going home soon.
I really miss Nicky
I want to see her.
I miss my family and my friends.
My granddaughter is chatting away now: 2/3 word sentences at 20 months.
I’ve missed 6 pivotal weeks in her life.
I’ve really missed her.
‘DadDad’ cannot wait for that first hug!
I miss Tip, Rosie and Will’s border collie, who is truly a magnificent dog and quite possibly this Moor-‘man’s best friend’.
I miss the more mundane things of life at home: baking bread, fresh milk, mushrooms, my own bed, butter on my bread, cotton socks, balsamic vinegar on my salad, eggs, bluebells and definitely my own loo!😜
So lots to celebrate and ‘sweeten’ these last few days of walking.
But it has had its more ‘bitter’ moments too.
And isn’t that life?
BITTER -sweet because:
Most notably on Thursday when Lizzie got the confirmation that she had torn her meniscus and that she would have to postpone her Camino.
We came together in Porto to do this together: brother and sister.
She was gutted!
So was I.
But my youngest sister is a fiercely determined woman.
She has faced huge personal trauma; resolutely: head on.
She has supported Hannah’s 6 brothers and sisters and her husband David in their grief,
She has set up and administers the charity that bears Hannah’s name.
‘Les Histoires d’Hannah’.
It isn’t a normal experience for a daughter to pass away before her parents.
Thank goodness.
Tragically that became Lizzie’s living reality last July 2025, when an intoxicated man decided to drive down the wrong side of the motorway, and hit Hannah’s car head on.
An idiotic choice.
A selfish choice.
One that bears lifelong repercussions for multiple families, including Hannah’s and his own.
BITTER -sweet because other motorists witnessed the crash. They saw it.
It must have been traumatic for them.
A young man of 20 tried in vain to resuscitate Hannah.
BITTER -sweet because Jacques family has suffered.
He continues to deal with the trauma of his loss. His family must have wondered if he might not make it too.
BITTER -sweet because the police who attended the scene have to process what they saw.
Trauma: horrific carnage. The death of a lovely 24 year old, cut down in her prime.
They need our support too: it’s all too easy to slag off the emergency services nowadays.
BITTER -sweet because so many people have been impacted because one man wanted a couple of extra drinks.
Perhaps you like a drink?
I do.
In moderation.
But please don’t ever consider falling to the temptation to drive: “just this once”
Lizzie wants to return to the Camino Portuguese, with those yellow Crocs and her yellow fused glass sunflower, to finish what we started together last Monday.
If she wants me to, I’ll come back too and resume it with her.
After all, I definitely need more exposure to those yellow things of …,,
Erm…….Beauty? 🤷🏻♂️
Sunflower-yellow🌻.
A thing of beauty?🤷🏻♂️
As I typed the details above, Lizzie was catching a Bolt taxi back to Porto airport for her 06.10 flight back to Toulouse.
She is already home and resting up.
I hope her hobble across the terminal wasn’t too painful.
You will continue to hear from her during this final week of this adventure.
Buen Camino Lizzie x
BITTER -sweet because I was also gutted once again for Glenn who I had met for a brief moment on the first days of his Caminoon the walk out of Lisbon.
Another bitter moment for a genuinely lovely peregrino.
Like Lizzie, I think Glenn will be back.
Terrible blisters curtailed his camino too.
There are no guarantees of success on the road to Santiago.
🌻🌻💕🌻🌻💕🌻🌻💕🌻🌻💕🌻🌻
On Friday I was up and out, and flying solo once again.
My feet were pretty sore: that dash for the ferry that never actually ran has taken some toll.
The road to Santiago is not an easy one.
The trail is busying up now.
I could see a small train of peregrinos on the sky line above the ocean ahead of me. At least 5 of them, all walking alone, silently lost in their thoughts, at the start of their new day.
Walking alone?
‘You’ll never walk alone’ 🎵
I’d already passed a few peregrinos though.
Even though my feet are painful, I still seem to move faster than many.
Long legs help.
In truth, feet apart I have felt fit and strong on this trip.
My legs have been fine.
This route is starting to hot up for a very simple reason.
Anyone who walks at least 100 km to Santiago is entitled to a Compostella or pilgrimage certificate.
So a lot of people undertake a 4+ day walk so that they can get their certificate.
There is no blame, no shame and no judgement from me.
But I do sometimes refer to them as ‘tourist pilgrims!’ 😂
Their Camino has its own validity.
It’s just a whole lot shorter than mine!
But mine probably doesn’t make much sense either!
Today, this peregrino was back on the move in his crocs.
‘Sole Survivor’
A CrocStop is much nicer than a Croc Swap at the moment.
‘King of Sole’
I’m obviously a ‘Sole Man’🎵😂
My walking friend Bob from the Monday Wayfarers group tried to go one better;
“Good morning Martin.
Why don’t penguins like rock and roll music?
Because they prefer sole, baby!! Have a great day!”
Don’t give up your day job Bobby! 😜
Obviously I’m in Spain now 🇪🇸.
The waymarker stones are much more prevalent.
The first one I saw said 160 km to Santiago.
I passed another sculpture of St James taking a breather on his own journey.
I thought a lot about Lizzie as I walked, and we communicated throughout the day.
It is such a shame for her.
She would rightly say that postponing her Camino is not the worst thing she has faced over this past year.
I love her spirit.
Camino references are everywhere now.
By the end of the day my old ‘friend’ Google Maps (I don’t like GM: it lies on distances and never allows for shortcuts), was saying it was 108 km to Santiago.
Golly!
That’s like Birmingham to Oxford.
Not that far now.
Although currently 108 km feels like a lot!
And I’ve just found out that scenic shortcuts lead to soggy socks ’n crocs🙄
I ended up in a bog.
No way round it, I had to go through it!
Drenched!
IT IS WHAT IT IS! 😂
Buen Camino MM!
Luckily I carry spares.
More yellow, helped to bring back positive thoughts of Hannah and her family.
Pretty close to sunflowers actually: these flowers are everywhere.
At times it feels like she is with me.
I bet she would have loved her mama’s Crocs!
It was another long 34 km day.
Another 42,000 steps.
Some of them are now regularly painful.
But the scenery was amazing.
And distracting.
‘All things bright and beautiful.’ 🎵
Amazingly intricate dandelions.
Beautiful pinks.
Hannah coloured yellows on every twist and turn on the trail.
I passed a historic lobster pool.
A Camino inspired roadside shrine.
Beauty was all around me. And it made me forget my foot pain for a bit.
Piles of firewood: ripe for the coveting!
A 21 mile / 34 km shoreline, where every step could be framed against the deep blue ocean.
I lunched by the camp site Nicky, Harry, Jake and I had stayed at, after we completed the 105 km Camino de Finisterre in 2018.
We walked that trail with my sisters Sarah and Lizzie after the tragic loss of my sister Anna in 2017.
There were some weird sights inevitably: the white roof on this house was as bizarre as was the ship’s bridge on another next door.
I hollered to a telecom engineer.
“Hey Amigo, Buenos Dias!”
So fluent!
He waved and grinned.
A steep pull up a hot hill brought me to the outskirts of Baiona.
A lovely looking town which had the usual 3 km pull to the hostel.
Always the hardest part of any Camino day.
But the scenery remained spectacular.
I was shattered but elated.
Santiago was only 108 km away.
My hostel was situated just in front of the huge fort that dominates Baiona.
A fitting backdrop to a tough but beautiful day.
And so to the last bit.
A skip away if you don’t want a peep.
I’ve struggled with my feet over the course of this trek.
I’ve managed them well.
Last night they were screaming though.
Here’s SOME of the evidence.
Below.
I know photos of feet are not everyone’s cup of tea.
You can scroll down if you wish.
You don’t have to look.
Battered and very bruised.
This peregrino is now getting quite keen to stop!
Thanks for the read.
Buen Camino.
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!
Stop scrolling if you prefer.
Camino foot pain is a real thing.
“You’ve got to look after your feet”.
I have!
And yet it still happens.
Ouch!
It is what it is!
Martin Moorman 