Thursday May 16, 2019

Porto to Lavra, Portugal—22,667 steps

Proverbs 1 

v. 10-11   My son, if sinful men entice you, do not give in to them.  If they say, “Come along with us; let’s lie in wait for innocent blood, let’s ambush some harmless soul…”

I decided to read the Bible’s book of Proverbs along the Camino and see what truth God might speak to us through it.  Wisdom speaks in the first chapter, inviting people to come to her for understanding, guidance and instruction in right behavior, all of which begin with “the fear of the Lord” (v. 7).  The verses above made me think of us pilgrims, “harmless souls” walking somewhat unbalanced with our minimal possessions crammed into a backpack, to some extent dependent on the willingness of strangers to provide for our needs.  The great majority of vendors and ordinary people we’ve met along the way are not out to ambush us but are servants at heart, exactly the opposite of the wicked people this chapter warns against.  The local townspeople might like to earn a little money from us but they are not “lying in wait for innocent blood.”  We receive from them lodging, fairly-priced meals, helpful advice, instruction in the language so we can better make our way, friendly greetings and stories that enrich our lives.  We are the beneficiaries of their choices to walk in God’s wisdom, whether they know our Lord or not.  Thank you, Jesus, for your provision along the Camino and through all of life.

We said farewell to Bruno and took the doubledecker bus to Matosinhos, the port of Porto, the end of the line.  We glanced at the fish market and got a couple carimbos for our credencial along our walk out of town.  An elderly woman passing us asked, “A Santiago?”  Si, to Santiago.  “Bom caminho!” she exlaimed heartily.  Why did she seem surprised?  Wait—maybe she thought we were as elderly as she was.  It was spitting rain so we put the raincovers on our packs.  By the time we were really on our way we’d hoisted and strapped on the backpacks four separate times.

A broad sidewalk between the Atlantic and the highway led through the beach town to agreeable boardwalks curving gently over the sand and across the multiflowered dunes.  The boards were pleasantly springy underfoot.  But the wind!  We walked into the wind all day and it was hard going.  It was even harder to try to walk with my poles so Maurice mounted them on my pack under the raincover, which we hardly needed any more because the sun was peeking out.  Past the lighthouse, past the memorial obelisk to King Pedro IV’s liberating invasion in 1832, past the site where the Germans scuttled their U-boat and surrendered to the Purtuguese, past the traditional stone fishermen’s houses and the ancient Roman fish-salting pans cut into the rocky shore—I was feeling the pack on my shoulders and tiring quickly as we leaned into the wind.  This is a low-kilometer day and I’m already worried about tomorrow’s planned twice-as-long walk.

Maurice had reserved us a bungalow in a campground in a tiny fish town along our route.  The bungalow is one among a grove of newish prefab rectangles with rickety decking out front to keep feet above the mud.  Our bungalow has two rooms, one with a bed and one with a pull-out couch, a small refrigerator and four folding contraptions—two wooden tables, one wooden chair and a really disreputable-looking clothes rack, all of which must have had previous lives in other campgrounds.  The stone shower house and lines of sinks arranged in half a cloister flow with copious hot water, though in the shower you have to push in the knob about every seven seconds to keep the water coming.  The toilet stalls have no toilet paper, not even empty holders, something one should note before entering.  Hmm.  A big roll was mounted on the wall opposite the door.  So that’s why it was there.  Well, a lady is always prepared.  

We exploded into our new home, propping the broken door open—hiking poles, laundry rack, broomstick, overturned chair—against the wind to get some fresh air inside.  After lunch on the little deck we set the tables inside to hold our packs.  We had to push the laundry rack against the building to keep it from blowing over but figure at least the laundry should dry in the wind.  After a little rest we went to write and paint in the campground’s nearby sala de convivio (living room) where the wifi is strong and the furniture seems to be poured concrete.

The campground restaurant serves pilgrim meals at the bargain price of about seven euros.  We were seated in a lovely dining room.  Soon our service was taken over by the gracious and friendly Luis, who studied to be an English professor but is currently detoured into waitering at the campground.  He happily taught me another Portuguese phrase I wanted to know.  Our dinner was comprised of soup (homemade and cabbagey, I think typical Portuguese), a bread basket, a main course of roast pork, spaghetti and small salad for Maurice while I picked the fresh and summery dinner salad where the chef was not afraid to use tomatoes and sweet onions, vino tinto and our choice of baked treats from the dessert table.  I selected the pie with nata filling, the same as the little tarts of the previous two days; I don’t think I’m finished trying that yet.  I had heard the food is bettter along the Portuguese Camino than the main Spanish one.  We hope that this dinner, which was not chicken and French fries, is a harbinger of meals to come.

When Maurice agreed to walk the Portugues Camino with me, I was excited to plan and pack.  I remembered our time together, the adventures of different albergues, meeting new people, learning new things, seeing new sights, favorite spots along the way.  Even though at heart this is a walk, I didn’t exactly think about all the walking.  But here we are and I remember now.  You have to keep walking even when the wind is against you and your legs think you’ve done enough for today.  Then you to have to get up and do it again.  I’m a harmless soul indeed, probably elderly, and stiff and sore with unhappy joints.  I am thankful for Wisdom’s provision tonight of safe lodging and hot water and a delicious dinner and a big roll of TP on the wall.