A Day At The Beach, Sort Of

It's July 2, 2016. Today I walked 28.3 km (17.5 mi) getting myself from Porto to Vila do Conde, Portugal. 

I hadn't slept much the night before, because the room was so noisy. Last night I slept like a log, until 5am. Then I was awake and excited to get started walking. It was still dark as I left the hostel and made my way to the Metro to get to my starting point. I had forgotten what happens on week ends during the summer in Spain, and I guess Portugal too. The young folks go the the center of the city or the beach and party all night long. So I encountered some who were still drunk, some who looked bedraggled, some who just looked tired, and one young man who looked like he got punched in the face. Several exuberant young men offered to share their drink with me when I was walking to the station. I had to decline their generous offer. 

There were lots of young people in the metro station and on the train I took. I got off the Metro and walked down to the beach to begin the days walk along a board walk on the beach. Believe it or not the various municipalities have built a boardwalk, mostly of wood, but some cement, about 15 miles long. Amazing!

 I passed a couple of small fishing communities with boats and nets and traps. Here is a picture from the start of my stroll. 

And here is an interesting idea. It was a swimming pool and wading pool created among the rocks with water from the ocean. 

Before I got to the beach I stopped for cafe and what I thought was a croissant. It was stuffed with some sort of cold hamburger mixture. It was about 6:30 or 7am, way to early for that treat. So I drank my cafe and headed out. Later during my walk I had a egg type roll with a lemon cream filling. Very yummy. I stopped a couple of more times for cafe, but no food more food until I got to Vila de Conde about 2pm. The Albergue didn't open until 3pm, so I decided to have a bite. I went to the restaurant next to the Albergue and met this lovely man who spoke more English than I did Portuguese. He went over the menu with me, but seemed disappointed by my selection. So I asked him what he liked. He pointed to a dish but couldn't explain all of it in English, except he said it had rice. I thought "what the heck, once more into the breach." I said fine I would have that, whatever it was. Leea always tells me, rather disgustedly, that I will eat anything. He decided he would bring a sample for me to try. It was squid in a yummy sauce. I tried it and it tasted good, if I just didn't focus on the curly little tentacles. So I ordered it and ate it, along with a Coca Cola Zero. I never drink soda at home, only on the Camino. I have no idea how that happens. 

After I finished eating he stamped my credential and brought me this big book that Pilgrim's from all over the world had written. He handed me a pen to add my comments and asked if he could take a picture of me for his Facebook page. Then he gave me the name of the page so I could check it out. What a delightful lunch. 

The Albergue opened and I checked in and got a bed. It is new and quite nice. They even have big warm blankets. And, they have a washing machine and dryer, which I put to good use. My hostel in Porto didn't have a washer or dryer or any facilities for hand washing. I was in danger of getting stinky. 

The beach walk had been beautiful, but it was very windy today. The combination of sun, wind and walking with a pack, left me tired. I think I will sleep well tonight. 

Here are some of the sights from today. 

And my lunch

Dingbattiness: Mishaps and Near Misses

I'm almost afraid to write about the last 48 hours. I fear my family may ask the Courts for a guardianship or some other court order to prevent me from leaving the country alone, or maybe even from leaving the house alone. 

Where shall I start? Thursday morning is a good place to start. I woke up early, about 6 am. I got my room all cleaned up and my bags all packed by 10:30 am. I  had my big back pack, which would go in a compartment under the bus, and a small day pack with some bread, cheese, olives and cookies for lunch, and Mr Burple. My bus didn't leave until noon, so I decided to stop by the Tourist Office to make sure I knew where the taxis hung out. I also decided to go by the Pilgrim's Office to say good bye to my new friend Alex and give her one of the knotted things I made. 

When it was time to leave from the Pilgrim's Office, I headed to the taxi hang out and got a taxi to the bus station. As I got out of the taxi at the bus station I realized I had my back pack, but I didn't have my day pack, and most importantly, I didn't have Mr Burple! Oh dear. The very nice taxi man drove me back first to the Tourist Office and then to the Pilgrim's Office. There was so much traffic on those narrow little streets, because the businesses get all their deliveries in the morning, it seemed like forever.  I was panicked.  I knew I could catch a later bus, if I missed mine. But, I was terrified and panic stricken over the idea of losing my little bear buddy, Mr Burple. 

Well, I found the day pack and made it to the bus station on time. I even got a window seat so I spent the whole trip staring out the window, viewing countryside and towns I would walk through in the days to come. 

The bus trip took about five hours with one five minute potty break, about two hours into the trip. I ate my lunch on the bus. As I was eating the bread and cheeseI remembered the trip John and I took on a bus from Barcelona to Santander. We also brought bread and cheese to eat on the bus. But, when we opened our cheese, it was all crumbly, almost like feta cheese and it kept spilling all over the place. We laughed ourselves silly for a good part that trip, trying to get the cheese to stay on the bread. 

Well the bus stopped in Porto at the Casa De Musica metro station and the bus driver said we would be stopping for 45 minutes and then, I thought he said, we would be going into Porto. So, I went and had a coffee, only to find out there were no bathrooms. I went out and stood by the bus. Not only did I have to go to the bathroom, but there was a cold wind blowing and my warm jacket was in my backpack under the bus. I kept thinking I could just take the Metro or a taxi into the middle of town, but my pack was locked under the bus. Finally, the bus driver came back. Fortunately it was before I froze or wet my pants. He said he wasn't stopping any other place in Porto, he was headed to Lisbon. So he opened the compartment and I got my pack. 

I decided to take a taxi since I needed to get to a bathroom sooner, rather than later.  I didn't want to deal with trying to figure out a new metro system, buying tickets, waiting for trains, etc. Well, it sounded like a good idea at the time, but the traffic in Porto is insane, cars and buses racing up and down narrow streets, swerving, slamming on brakes,  like crazy people. It reminded me of the Mr Toad ride at Disneyland. I just prayed I would make it out alive and with dry pants. 

I made it to my hostel and the people were lovely, my room was comfy, and I had an 82 year old roommate from Miami who was very friedly. Then I went down to the kitchen and fell down some cement stairs, splat! There I was sprawled on the floor like a bag of rice. I thought "0h phooey!" Well, that wasn't exactly the word, but we'll let it go. I'm thinking, I'm supposed to start walking in a few days, and now, I've broken my self. But, today so far, it seems I just took a little skin off my knee and bruised myself. 

Portugal beat Poland in the quarter finals of the Euro Cup last night, so it was a little crazy here. I walked all around the old part of town and decided to change my plans to spend five days here. Porto is like Disneyland on steroids. And unlike most European cities I've been in, they don't restrict traffic in the old part of the city that has narrow streets. So it's every person for themselves. Though the fines must be pretty stiff for hitting pedestrians in the cross walks, because the minute you put a foot in the cross walk, they slam on the brakes. 

But Porto is busy, and noisy, people selling trinkets in the stalls everywhere, cigarette smoke everywhere, and just packed with people. I grew up in a tourist town, on Catalina, so I get a little weird in touristy places. Plus I think I'm ready for walking and being out in nature. So, I made new plans. 

I didn't sleep at all last night because there was traffic, people talking on the street and dogs barking all night. So, today they moved me to a new room on the fifth floor, at the back of the building, away from traffic. And I have a view of the river and sea gulls in flight from my window. 

But then, wait for it, . . .after breakfast this morning I couldn't find my coin purse with my credit and debit cards, and 300 euro in cash I had gotten yesterday from the ATM! I was freaked, to say the least. I searched under and around the bed, in the shower and the bathroom, all of my pockets. I couldn't find it. I ran back to the cafe where I had eaten outside by the river, but they didn't have it. The guy at the hostel contacted the police to see if it had been turned in, no such luck. By this time I'm getting a little panicky and wanting to cry. I went back to the room, checked all around the bed. Then I took everything out of my back pack again and this time I turned it upside down and shook it. Out fell my coin purse. I don't know how it got in there, because my back pack was laying in a big drawer under the bed last night. But, I was so relieved. 

I spent today walking the streets, but I just couldn't muster any enthusiasm for sight seeing. So, I decided to do a trial run on taking the metro and funding the beach where, hopefully, God willing, I will start my Camino tomorrow. The beach was lovely and I got my credential stamped at the little tourist office, in case I start before they are open tomorrow Well folks, I hope that was entertaining. . 

Leaving To Start Again

Being in Santiago as a Voluntario has been a treat. This year I actually got to write Compostelas, which can be down right stressful at times, yet so wonderfully rewarding. I've met Pilgrim's who have walked 3000 kilometers from Northern Europe and Pilgrim's who have walked 116 kilometers from Sarría. They are all excited to have made the journey. 

One man who came to me today walked from Nothern Europe over a period of five years. He started when he was 86, and completed his journey today at 91. He did not speak either English or Spanish, and I don't speak German, but he brought tears to my eyes. Another woman, my age, from the U.S., hurt herself shortly after she started in Saint Jean Pied de Port, kept walking, passed out twice due to a head injury, went to the hospital and had X-rays, then continued walking until she arrived in Santiago. 

I also wrote a Compostela for a woman who lives right down the block from me in Laguna Woods! That was amazing. She was walking with another woman who lives in Laguna Woods, but a few blocks from me. 

My best buddy at the office is a young woman from Germany. I think she is 19. One day she asked me why I was always so happy. I told her it beat the alternative. Then I remembered so many years of my life spent being angry and resentful. I have truly been blessed. Her name is Alex and she speaks several languages as well as her native language. When we are talking, I forget that English is not her first language. 

I was told that we needed to meet at the Pilgrim's Office at 5 pmon Monday, because we Voluntarios were getting a special tour of the Cathedral. I thought it would take about an hour and then I would return to the office to finish my shift. Well the tour itself took about two hours and was very interesting. Here is a picture of one of the places we walked on the balcony. 

I was about to go back to the office to finish my shift when my flat mate Jannette told me we were all going to the mass. Yikes, I had left all my stuff in my pack at the office. I had to run back to the office, grab my pack, and run back to the Cathedral, hoping the guard would let me in with the pack and that I would be able to find my group. All went well, and then we were all led to the area inside the roped off area right in front of the altar. I had been here once before with the American Pilgrim's group. It is special. At the end of the mass, before they swung the botafumiero, they called each of us up to receive a special certificate from the Dean of the Cathedral, who was also saying the mass. Five or six of the people who work in the office or are Voluntarios participated in the mass as either priest, deacon or men who swing the botafumiero. When the Dean gave us our certificates, he said a few words to each of us.

Here is a picture of the botafumiero beginning to swing, at some point it goes almost to the top of the arches in this Gothic cathedral. 

By now it is 8:30 and I discover we are going for tapas. That was fun and delicious. I got home about 11pm. My flamantes didn't return until after 1 am. 

Santiago is always interesting. Sometimes it feels a little bit like Disneyland, with so many people from so many different countries.  One day I was walking through the plaza in front of the Cathedral and saw a group of about fifty men and women with bicycles. It took me a minute to notice that each of them had modified their bike in some way to allow a handicapped person to experience the Camino with them. If handicapped is a politically incorrect term, maybe my friend Stephanie can educate me. I seriously don't mean any disrespect. Anyway some of their partners were in modified wheel chairs attached the bike, or in an added seat on the handlebars. It was another of those moments of wonder at how generous humans can be. 

Another day there was a group of about a fifty high school students from a Catholic school doing a circle dance in the middle of the Plaza, singing, laughing, running, dancing and moving in concentric circles matching up with new partners at every pass. I got tired just watching them. 

There are so many feel good moments, I could write all night. But at some point I must sleep. Tomorrow is my last day as a Voluntario. Thursday I leave for Porto, a city in northern Portugal. I will spend a few days there exploring the city, and hopefully listening to some Fado, sort of the Portuguese version of the blues or flamenco. Then I  begin to walk from Porto to Santiago. 

I sense there are more adventures to come.