Hello from day seven of the Camino Portuguese. It has taken me a little while to settle into this walk, and to find the energy to write a blog post. First off, I needed to get used to 25+-kilometre days carrying a pack. Ouch! And secondly, I needed to adjust my expectations after last year’s Rota Vicentina trek.
The Camino Portuguese is a more social and urban walk. Lots of pilgrims. And lots of walking in and out of cities. I’m loving meeting people of all ages, nationalities, and backgrounds, each with a different reason for walking the Camino. Trudging past car lots and factories — not so much. But — big picture, I’m outdoors all day— most often in beautiful rural settings — the history of the Camino is fascinating, and all I need to do is get myself from A to B. I am a lucky woman!
Last Sunday was a great illustration of the ups and downs of this trek. I was passing through a little town called Belinho. I turned a corner to see this.
The flower carpet just one part of an event called the Procession of the Lord for the Sick. This 90-year-old celebration takes place every year in Belinho on the Sunday after Easter. In addition to the decorations, there was a live reenactment of the Easter story.
There was also a long procession of banners, followed by a marching band, and hundreds of parishioners.
Needless to say, I was utterly charmed by all this and thankful I happened to pass through Belinho at exactly the right time.
Just a few minutes later, I was proceeding along a country lane. Lots of bikers and runners passing in both directions — including a middle-aged runner with a huge smile on his face as he approached me. That’s when I noticed he had pulled his shorts aside with one hand and with the other he was waggling his junk at me! Lovely. (Apologies to all my readers who just snorted their tea/coffee/wine.) I didn’t feel threatened or unsafe, just mildly disappointed that, even in Portugal, assholes exist. Literally every local I have passed thus far calls out a cheery “Bon Camiño”. Except this fellow…
But hey, it makes for a good story and an indelible memory. (The flowers — not so much the waggling!) The sacred and profane in the space of ten minutes!