Now that I’ve settled back into my life at home, I have the quiet space to review my Camino journey. Things come into a more clear perspective now that I’m rested, and mostly, recovered. I don’t want to critique my experience but to live it more fully; it’s not about correcting perceived mistakes.

I pulled out the daily guides that my trip organizer, Mary provided. Each had the milage and a description of the route for that day, address and picture of my lodging, and the portion of the Portuguese Coastal Camino map that I’d cover. Every night, I filled the back of those sheets with journal notes. Those, along with my pictures, help me to recreate what happened on that day of my journey.

The first day of walking, Saturday August 10th, trekking the 8 miles from Porto to Laburge, I was fascinated by the rocky coastline and lack of hotels and cottages right up to the shoreline— like we have in North Carolina. On the coast of Portugal, there were lots of areas where it was hard to access the water because of rocky outcroppings.

On my second day, I walked a few blocks from the town of Labruge to pick up the trail by the water. I spotted a woman with a backpack, a Camino pilgrim, up ahead. She was the same woman I’d seen at my lodging who was easy to recognize by her bold-striped blouse.

I needed a time of silence as I started the trail, but I also wanted to connect with the ‘people in my path.’ She was walking slowly with a bit of a limp. It occurred to me that if I walked with her, it would slow me down. I didn’t have a sense of how fast I needed to walk to get to the next lodging; I didn’t have knowledge of what difficulties I’d encountered.

An “ah ha!” came, that still small voice inside that is the voice of God for me; “Sometimes it’s better to walk Beside than Ahead.”

I stopped to speak to her, relieved she spoke English, as the other guests at our lodging had been conversing in Spanish. She had an ace wrap around her leg and said she was moving slowly, for me to go on ahead. We agreed that we’d try to catch up with each other when we got to our destination town– Povoa de Varzim, 8 miles away.

That morning, there was an expanse of boardwalks stretching for miles. Signs with diagrams and descriptions of the natural vegetation and birds dotted the way. It occurred to me that this real estate on the Atlantic was valued for its natural beauty and rich resources; what a treasure for the Portuguese people–and all of those who visited.

Eventually, I ran into a construction site— the boards being replaced and causing me to take the more difficult path through the sand. What an investment in walkway that made that area easily accessible.

I passed through fishing villages where homes were small dwellings near the shore, their boats pulled in nearby. I loved the playfulness of the artful fisherman in the photo. I would also come to recognize the respect in that country for those who fished the sea, including for sardines, like I’d seen in Porto–though I never tried them 🙂

Early in the afternoon, I came into a village and heard a popping sound. I found out later it was fireworks to herald a festival being held–as I would encounter all through the country. I stopped for a break in a garden and spotted other pilgrims doing the same.

When I was resting there, I saw the woman in the striped shirt. I walked over to her as I headed back to the Camino path that followed the village streets. She and I decided to walk together to Povoa, where we’d find something to eat. She said her name was Mariangela and she was from Italy.

“Have you walked the Camino before?” she asked

“No,” I responded. “This is my first time. How about you?”

“Yes, I walked the Camino Frances six years ago,” she answered. “I’d planned to do this one right after that, but I broke my foot.” She explained that some lingering difficulties caused her to need the ace wrap and made her slower. I was impressed at her taking on the Camino again.

Villages and cities could be the most difficult places to see the Camino arrows and signs. It helped having two sets of eyes instead of just mine. She pulled out her iPhone and looked at her Camino app.

When we arrived at Povoa, there was a town plaza with several restaurants. I loved all the outdoor seating throughout my trip, especially since most buildings were not air conditioned.

She ordered octopus and I went for something less adventurous—sea bass, I think. Waiting for our food, we talked about our lives. She was married with a 24-year-old son. She worked as a businesswoman. I guess that was why she was so good at using her phone and spoke excellent English 🙂 I let her know how appreciative I was that she spoke English.

The food was excellent and we ate listening to the street musicians performing in the plaza. It was a scene I’d come to appreciate in Portugal and Spain. Afterwards, she pulled out her phone to look up the map to her lodging.

I told her I’d had trouble with my wifi, and she looked up my hotel. She drew a simple map of where it was located, opposite of where she was headed. We exchanged phone numbers and agreed to text later on the journey.

How nice it was to walk with Mariangela, to connect with another pilgrim after so many days by myself. What a relief it was to be with someone who could skillfully use her phone and access her apps.

I’d enjoyed my morning time walking by the water, but it had turned out better to walk beside Mariangela than ahead of her. It was good to meet another woman who was like-minded, enjoying solo travel and always having a next journey in mind.

Best to you on Your Journey this day,

Connie