Tuesday May 24 Praia di Ancora to A Guarda Spain

Tuesday May 24 Ancora to A Guarda Spain
It is the rainy kind of day that makes you want to curl up with a good read. But, no, I must walk the 10 miles to A GUARDA in Spain. The rain blew into my face, but it was unable to negate the beauty of this rocky coast. At times the ocean reflected the traumas of a lifetime, at other times, the continuity and repetiveness of our life. At one point, I had returned to Muxia.

I understood both my importance and at the same time, the insignificance of my being.
I walked on, as usual alone.
(Grr. 6 attempts to insert a photo.)

(I just found out the problem is that the camera somehow switched off of auto and on to something that uses a lot of memory per photo. I hope the rest are okay because the scenery was indeed photo worthy.)

I arrived in Caminha at 10:25 with time for an espresso before finding and catching the 11:00 ferry to Spain. Alas, there will be no ferry until 2pm. The option of taking a taxi to cross the river further to the east did not seem appealing. I headed about a mile back along the shore to where there were fishing boats.

Only one had a sailor in it. I understood why the ferry wasn't running; the tide was much to low. The sailor waved and started walking towards where I stood some 10 feet above the sand on a concrete pier. Oh my, he is in water up to his armpits. He can't carry me across this without totally submerging me. He came up the steep, narrow 18 step walkway and announced (in Portuguese), "I am Castro. No relation to the Castro in Cuba. Walk another mile and Mario will take you across for 5 euros. Remember, Mario. Do you understand?" A Sim and an extended arm from me, pointing towards the south;  a smile and a nod from Castro and I was off to find Mario.

(another one of these wifi frustrations; I had written some 100 more words that just disappeared.)
Another bunch of fishing boats. One was pulling anchor. A brisk wave told me to get down onto the sand and walk where he was pointing. Some 200 feet down the beach he headed as close to the sand as he could without going aground. I, (unceremoniously, plowed into the high sided boat, knapsack and all. Without a spoken word Mario put the motor into reverse and headed across the channel. He again stopped as close to the shore as he could. I gave him 5 euros and disembarked raked at some isolated, unknown and unmarked beach.

I headed towards the ocean, hoping I would find a path to the north. I did find one, a boardwalk at that.

At the outskirts of, what I assumed correctly to be, A Guarda I saw a coast side restaurant that looked appealing
(Whoop, time out. The sun is shining. I will write more later.)
I hoped for either mussels, which I did get, or escargots, both of which I could have picked lots of on my way.
The table of 3 beside me had the most incredible meal I have ever seen.

Of course I had to climb up the hill to my hotel.

(my selfie in the elevator mirror.)
Tomorrow is a long walk. 18 miles according to gps, but I always seem to find longer, more interesting routes.