Camino De Santiago: Portuguese Way Episode 4

I woke up early just as the sun was rising. I quickly got ready, and as I was leaving, I noticed others were already up and eating breakfast. The morning was cool and blue, and as the sun started to peek over the horizon, it cast its golden rays across the surrounding trees and flowers. One of my new friends from the night before, Jeshua, a Dutch Aruban, caught up to me. We walked and talked together for quite a while before eventually splitting up due to our difference in pace. But later, in the town of Ponte De Lima, we met up again. At the edge of town, Jeshua pulled out his film camera, and we took a picture together with the Lima River and the medieval-era bridge in the background.

We continued into town and crossed the bridge, which has a legend associated with it. According to the story, Roman soldiers feared that they would lose their memories once they crossed the river. So General Brutus, in an act of bravery, crossed first and began calling out the soldiers’ names, proving to them that they would not forget who they were.

We left town and continued back into the countryside. We encountered a herd of sheep on the road, and we walked alongside them for a while until they let us pass. Further along the road, we happened upon a restaurant that was an oasis of sorts. The friendly owner ran the establishment with his wife and young children. We sat at a bench in the shade and ordered food and drinks, The breezy atmosphere was very peaceful, and it was an excellent place to regain some of our strength. Jeshua had a pamphlet with details of the route, and he warned that we would soon be approaching a significant elevation gain. 

With that in mind, we paid for our meal and set out again. The sun was now out in full strength, and we began climbing into the mountains. The dirt and gravel path gave way into rocky steps that had to be traversed carefully to avoid spraining an ankle. Somewhere along the way in an unusual place, we found an old, abandoned car and both took pictures with it. On the descent, I picked up a long wooden stick, the perfect size to use as a walking stick that would provide some relief to the knees on the way down. I found it amusing as it completed my pilgrim look.

After a long and arduous day of climbs and descents, I finally arrived at the public albergue in Rubiães, drenched in sweat and barely able to walk with a proper stride. Somewhere, somehow, I must have slightly tweaked my ankle, but I had kept walking because stopping didn’t feel like an option. There was only one thing to do: keep walking. I mustered my last drops of strength and dragged myself to the showers where the hot water sluiced away all the grime, dirt and sweat.

Clean and somewhat presentable to civilization, I gingerly walked to the only restaurant in the vicinity and had the all-important pilgrim meal with a couple of beers. Afterwards, I watched the sunset from a spot overlooking the gorgeous Portuguese countryside. It was a long, hard, but beautiful day.