Viana do Castello is a wonderful little town, seemingly stuck in the 1950’s, judging by the fashions in the windows of the clothing stores. My theory is that when you are a poor country, you do not have money for the latest clothing trends, especially in small towns. But the food is amazing — we had the best franceshinas sandwich ever at In Franceshinsas. Think “croque monsieur on steroids”. The Portuguese saw the little French sandwich and thought it was a nice start. Then they added steak, more pork, an egg, thicker bread, and an incredible sauce. Of course, always with fries to soak up the last of the sauce. The waiter had to stop me from licking the plate. He told us that the sauce cooks for nearly a full day, with 27 ingredients including beer and port. Each restaurant has their own secret recipe. The closer to Porto you get the better the franchesinas.
The aforementioned franceshinas —
The last night in VDC we had a light meal and drank caparinas in a local place while watching a fotbol game between a Lisbon team and Maccabi.. Susan’s team lost.
Viana do Castello town square
Random street in Viana do Compostella
Main church (of many) in Viana do Compostella
Wednesday morning we started the Camino again. Getting out of VDC was not easy due to poor signage. We followed a small group of pilgrims and eventually found our way out. We passed some residential areas and then found ourselves in wooded hills, where we saw a lot of browned out growth, evidence of the drought that has hit Portugal, and also the fires as we passed a stand of trees recently burned. When we arrived it seemed that all Portugal was burning. The fires have been extinguished but it took months.
Then the rain started. A downpour for over two hours. We slogged on through woods and some walled back streets before finding a 6-table cafe crowded with walkers escaping the flood. Everyone was in a good mood as we scarfed down delicious ham and cheese and chocolate croissants, coffee, and beer. Part of the joy of El Camino is talking to people from Poland, Belgium, Germany, British Columbia. Finally, the rain slowed and we loaded up our packs and put on our ponchos.
We were still in the hills, with lot of ups and downs on dirt and rock paths. The amount of rain turned much of the path into puddles and streams. Wet feet are a concern on El Camino as it contributes to a number of ailments (blisters, infections) that can derail the most intrepid pilgrim
The rain stopped and the sun started peeking through. We went through some beautiful woods, passed over a stream on an old stone bridge, turned right….and were lost. No Camino arrows to be seen.
We walked about 200 yards more with no arrows and saw a Camino walker coming toward us. We joined up with Benjamin (German - rural town 5 hours from Berlin) and walked a few more minutes. Benjamin flagged down a car who told us (in Portuguese) that we missed the turn but that Praia de Ancoda was up ahead if we continued our direction — at which point Susan’s phone map became our guide. Benjamin was delightful. He said his excellent English came from watching American comedy TV. He knew all the shows: That 70’s Show, MASH, 2 1/2 Men, and mentioned several more — and his humor and language had a bit of TV comedy tinge to it.
Well, it turns out that the detour added 1 1/2 miles to our planned 12 mile day. The time went faster as Benjamin told us some of his life stories, including 2 years a a soldier, learning to be a financial advisor — then realizing that was not his calling. He took up Thai boxing, got good and entered tournaments, and got his face so badly smashed by an opponent’s knee that it took several surgeries and 6 months to recover. We finally pulled into Praia de Ancora around 5:30 p.m. and parted ways after signing Benjamin’s book and taking photos with him. We wish him well.
Benjamin and the old folks
Random street in Praia de Ancora. These folks love to decorate their streets!
So, Thursday was going to be nearly 18 miles, and our entry into Spain. It was just the night before as we were reading our guide book that we understood we needed to take a short boat ride to get from Portugal to Spain. We skipped about 4 miles of walking by leaving town by taxi to Caminha where the ferry to Spain departs. The taxi driver spoke French, Spanish, and Portuguese. We speak English, but he managed to communicate (Susan’s French) that the ferry was not running. He took us to the ferry terminal, went in to the ticket office to see if there were any small taxi-boats running. When he came out, he said “no good” and motioned us to get back in the car. I noticed he did not reset his meter. He took us to another small dock on the River Minho and called a number; a gentleman appeared and said “6 euros each for ride”. The driver would take no more money for his kindness and we thanked him as we grabbed our packs and hopped in a small motor boat.
Five minutes later we were dropped off on a sandy beach in Spain. We had no idea where the hell we were, but the boatman pointed left and said “El Camino”. Thank god he was correct and soon we saw yellow arrows as we once again followed the arrows with incredible views of the ocean up the coast. We cannot describe the beauty as we watched the huge waves and heard the roar as they landed on the coastal rocks. Hour after incredible hour. Our feet got sore and legs weary, but the views truly buoyed our spirits.
View #1 - not bad?
View #2 - tough to choose?
View #3 - the numbering is ridiculous because we saw this most of the day. Amazing.
We walked for a couple of hours and then stopped at a restaurant on a small local beach. Had the best salad in the world. I am not exaggerating: blueberries, raspberries, walnuts, little red berries I could not identify, bits of bacon (!), lettuce, and a delicious vinaigrette. I have never been an avid salad person. I am now. This kind of eating keeps happening here. What fun!
So, once again our Airbnb was not where we thought. Another 2 miles for a 14 mile day. We got here after 7:00 p.m. Found a very nice restaurant about 200 yards up the road and talked for over an hour with another resident of our albergue - Magrete from Holland, about family and life. Her husband is a sea captain, away half a year, but no more than six weeks at a time. They met at a maritime school.. Three grown children; the first raised to age 4 on her husband’s ships. Magrete decided that raising two children on a boat might not be the best idea, so they bought a house when the next child showed up. The girl raised on the ship is now a doctor. Margaret is doing the Camino at age 57 and doing much longer distances than we. Different lives and we get a glimpse.
Another rest day today. We need it. We are getting stronger and recovering faster. Ibuprofen help a lot.
You guys are really cool. Really!