Friday May 27 Vigo to Redondela

Friday May 27 Vigo to Redondela
I left early this morning to avoid the predicted afternoon rain which, of course, never materialized. I am sitting looking at a beautiful view of water, small treed islands, small homesteads, village and town across the way, each alternately highlight by sun.

Again, I took the contrary path along the waterfront. I walked along the arc of the bay, the Cies Islands at the focus. The tumultuous Atlantic is behind; I am now following the bay and the fluvial plain of the Rio Redondela a tributary of the Rio Vigo. I have just passed San Simon, the setting for the beginning of Jules Verne's "Around the World in 80 Days."
There are many hundreds of porous rafts anchored in the delta. Apparently the fishing boats tie up to them. Do they dump their load? Do they clean fish there?

(This is attempt number 8 to get this blog out. I had three more paragraphs and 5 inserted photos just vaporize.)

A statue of Sr. Castro.  ( he looks almost as small as Grieg)

I wonder what she is spraying onto the grapes.

1pm and still no bread delivery

Redondela

I can hardly contain myself. 8 cyclists from South Africa, Durban area, have joined me. A gin and tonic; the first cocktail on this trip. I still stick to the pledge I made to myself as a teenager: never drink alone.
I joined them for dinher. Although I had placed my order with the chef when they placed theirs, dinner arrived and there was none for me. My first 4 choices were not available. Finally I asked for the larger prawns. My plate came with a cold, hard crab the size of a softshell. Ì could not scratch, suck or chew a thing. Shrimp from one neighbor, tortilla from another; padron peppers for me to share,. Lots of chatter and laughter. It was wonderful to have dinner companions.
This is the point where all the camino paths from Portugal converge. I could see planes flying low to land in Tui, the 100 km mark of the radius to Santiago. How many fellow walkers will I see tomorrow? There are a lot of cycling pilgrims staying at my hostel/hotel tonight.
(Attempt number 9 here. )

I have enjoyed walking alone.!

Thursday May 26 Baiona to Vigo.

Thursday May 26 Baiona to Vigo
Still no other walkers in sight.
An interesting day. Dead ends.

(This man's stride which I have followed for about a mile, is exactly twice the length of mine.)

 Beach walks impassable because of high tide.

The Cies Islands are visible.

Walking along a superhighway, needing to go over the guardrail to cross at intersections. Up the hill to Vigo alta then directed down to the waterfront back at Bouzas.

Walk along the commercial seafront bars (and their accompanying brothels ) and finally into my hotel outside of which were 3 women dressed in Burberry and Prada.

Vigo is a city with more than 300,000 denizens. Money comes from the extensive fisheries and from the international mercantile port. Money is displayed by elegant shops and perfumed women dressed Haute Còuture.

Unfortunately the most exciting parts of the day: highways and seedy waterfront were impossible to photograph.
Looking forward to an elegant, expensive evening dinner. The usual .60 cent espresso cost 1.40 with no offer of change from 1.50.

The sun never really shone, mostly overcast, but shorts and a T-top were okay.

Wednesday May 25 A Guarda to Baiona

Wednesday May 25 A Guarda to Baiona, Spain
Rain, sprinkle, a little sun with some promise of no moisture from the sky tomorrow. I wore my rain pants and waterproof bicycling socks; the rain jacket on and off. As in Berkeley when the sun shines the perceived temperature goes up 10 degrees.

I walked along the coast, some on walk and then on a path that would seem ideal to trail runners, but that slows me down to a snail's pace. After about two miles of it, I worked my way the 200 feet or so in elevation to join the bicycle path.

It was equally nice to see the view from above.

One of the handicaps of being an old woman is that bladder control does not match that of a 30 year old. Several weeks ago I decided that if a man could stop here, so can I.  One of my many stops, complicated by rain pants, had me hidden behind a small chapel. When I emerged I saw a pilgrim ahead, the first I have seen in 5 days. I just was catching up when I came to the first open cafe in 10 miles. I stepped in for a salad and thus ended any chance for a short togetherness. (This in Oia where I would recommend spending the night)
At about 15 miles I saw a bus stop and decided enough is enough. I waited about an hour before a car pulled up to offer me a ride that I accepted with pleasure. The driver said that by the most direct route my day was a minimum of 37km. He had no idea how much longer the silly ups and downs of the camino made it. Most people opt to stay where I had eaten and then come on to Baiona the next day.
Baiona is a lovely town. Old city, citadel, replica of Columbus' Santa Maria (Baiona is where he landed on his return from the New World) and a parador par  excellance. I am glad that I had the two hour walk exploring it.

I smile at the disdainful smirk on Alfonso IX. Does anyone know what the the thumb pointing down signifies?

This week's special at one of the tapas restaurants is paella Maricopa for 10euro. Usually they will not prepare for fewer than two people. Delicious. When I left at 10:15 there had been 5 other customers. I have been frustrated by all the closed eateries. The open ones are losing money. They say mid June or September is the best time to be here. July and August you will have trouble finding a room or a seat for dinner.

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.

Monday May 23 Viana do Costelo to Vila Praia de Ancora

Monday May 23 Viana do Costello to Vila Praia de Ancora

The sun shone all morning on the most dramatic coast.

I had no markers. I just tried to stay along the coast as much as I could.  When the path ended and goats were jumping from rock to rock,

I  conceded to my physical reality and went on tractor trails and single track paths with end unknown.

Up the 10% grade to the lighthouse and then back down on a 8 foot wide packed sand pathway.

I had a blast! Did I know where I was? No. Did I know where I was going? Yes,
north.

Finally a walk on a Sandy beach. Across the footbridge. Over the railroad tracks to my bed for the night.