Friday May 17, 2019

Lavra to Rates, Portugal—Day 2; 39,331 steps

Proverbs 2 

v. 7  The Lord holds success in store for the upright; he is a shield to those whose walk is blameless.  Success is just what we hope for:  success in getting through each day without harm and success in walking the pilgrim way to Santiago.  Are we upright and blameless enough to claim this promise?  Of course not.  But there is One who is, our perfect Savior Christ Jesus. He lived an upright and blameless life, and we who trust in him have that life credited to us.  Father God, in the holy name of Jesus we boldly ask for success and protection in our pilgrimage.

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The dozen or so other pilgrims at the campground are German-speaking or similar, a quiet and MYOB bunch.  We smile pleasantly and say a quick “Morgen” as we pass.

Yesterday’s laundry did not dry.  

Because of our long walk today Maurice thought we should leave at 6 am.  I tried not to laugh.  Oh, wait—I did laugh.  We did not leave at six.  We did not leave at seven.  We got up just after six but we did not leave until 8:10.  The sun shone through scattered clouds.  We walked down to the beach and into the wind.  The wind makes my nose run and my kleenex supply is minimal.

The charming boardwalk led us up and down along the wild and rocky coast.  Informative signs pointed out historical sites.  Here were some petroglyphs; all I saw were rocks.  Here was a place where over millennia the sea has pressed the cliff into a curve.  Looked like big rocks.  Here were impressions where neolithic hunters sharpened spears—more rocks.  And here at Vila Cha, a sunny town lined with spruced-up fishermen’s houses, was the very spot where a British Lancaster crashed and Portuguese fishermen rescued all the crew.  It was a lovely engraved memorial rock.

We were pushing ahead and had done over 12,000 steps by 10 am. We crossed the high narrow bridge over the river into Vila do Conde and veered through a plaza to a pastry shop; our 45-minute stop was too short.  Then we began the crossover from the senda litoral, the coastal path, to the central route, following the directions in our guidebook because we didn’t expect the transition to be well-marked.  At one point we stopped hesitantly at an intersection and started to fish out our book.  The driver of a trash truck heading toward us honked and waved his arm for us to keep going!  In a yard at a curve in the road grew a bird of paradise plant and a small tree drooping with fat lemons.  The wind only kicked up sporadically.

In Rates, trying to follow the directions in the book, we missed a turn and took the long way around to our albergue San Pedro de Rates.  The picture of it in our book was not the outside street view and I walked past it until eagle-eyed Maurice called me back.  Was this really it?  We stood in the big arch of the doorway and gazed through.  “This is it!  Come on it!” called a cheery voice.  “We’ve been waiting for you.  You’re late!”  It was Ivo, one of the welcoming hosts of a local fraternity’s albergue donativo.  “We are late,” I said.  “We took a wrong turn.”  We had walked over seventeen miles and we were beat.  Soon Ivo had helped us off with our packs, poured us some lemon water and sat us down to wait our turn to sign in.  We got first choice of the beds in our dorm room and moved slowly from there. 

A beer, a walk in the chilling air to the lovely Romanesque church near the entry to town and we were done for.  A restaurant by the albergue offered a pilgrim dinner for e7.50 and it was delicious.  We began with the same good soup as last night, then my choice, called chicken stroganoff, was really chicken chunks and mushrooms in a delicate curry sauce, arranged in an attractive serving bowl with rice and a small salad.  We ate with some of our bunkmates Davide and Monica, siblings from Udine on a celebration trip for Monica’s law school graduation before she begins her next phase of studies. Davide has a universtiy degree in languages but, unable to find a job in his field, now drives a freight train.  Delightful young people. Hope for the future.