Afife to A Guarda 15km

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Leaving Portugal

It was with sadness in my heart that we left Portugal today. While the walk was hard and I could have quit quite a few times,  in the end it’s the good times that will remain in my memory. I’ve pushed boundaries and come through. We’re not there yet,  but the end is in sight. There’s no stopping now.

Shorter Days

As we move north and the days get shorter,  we’re leaving in the dark each morning. Our torches illuminated the way. A regular flash of light from the lighthouse reminded me that although the sea was calm, it could be treacherous for the fishermen whose boats were mere dots of light on the ocean. An abandoned pair of boots were placed neatly together on the sand.

Boots on the Coastal Route of the Portuguese Camino

Forgotten?

And a reminder of home in the first town we came to. An Australian must run the surf school!

Australia on the Coastal Route of the Portuguese Camino

A reminder of home

The Ferry to Spain

We managed to get the 11am ferry across to Spain.

The Ferry to A Guarda

The Ferry to A Guarda

And finally one of us together!

On the Ferry to A Guarda

Finally one together

We’re in A Guarda in the most expensive hotel so far (€48)! And this is how we treat the room:

Washing on the Portuguese Camino

Our Washline

Well, daily washing has to dry somehow!

Seafood and World Cup

The best thing is that we’re near some great seafood restaurants. And even better,  the place where we had lunch will put the Australia v England world cup rugby game on their second TV for us tonight. A big deal in this soccer mad country.

The Coastal Route of the Portuguese Camino

We’re on track

Anecdotes

Daily blogging is my way to share and to remember feelings,  observations and special incidents along the way. So much has happened in such a short time that the days blend into each other. Sometimes too much happens in one day to record or photograph it all. Like:
• the old man sitting outside his fishing hut. When asked where ‘Café Tony’ was, he stood up,  gestured for us to follow him as he shuffled through his sparsely furnished hut, to point out the way.
• the man who on learning that Bronek had been in the army in Angola – as he and many other Portuguese of a certain age had- took us to his house and showed us around. We were a bit confused and didn’t really know what was happening!
•the woman who wouldn’t let us pay for the cake we had with our coffee. Her husband had been fighting in Mozambique
•not really something to laugh at, but the woman who managed to drive her car on either side of a median strip and
• the ambulance which coming to the assistance of an elderly woman who was participating in a fun walk, managed to drive off the concrete sidewalk with the front wheel falling through the wooden walkway.

Not much English

I have been told that everyone speaks English in Portugal. Not where we went! Some people had a little French – of which I have none. While they couldn’t really understand my Spanish,  often I could work out what was being said as many words are similar. Others are completely different. But we managed just fine.

The Portuguese Camino

Camino or Caminho

We have been fortunate to have the time and health to embark on this journey. The next phase starts tomorrow as the Spanish section of our Camino really gets under way.

Portuguese Tiles

Portuguese Tiles

Next Post: A Guarda to Mugas

 

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