Day 3 (15 October) Into the Woods – 15 miles

Daily life is: Rising, packing, eating, walking, talking, unpacking, doing laundry, eating, drinking, calling home, and sleeping. —— Rich Gorton

We started at 9 AM and the bus tours were already coming to SG. We said goodbye from the outskirts of town before we started our trek into the woods.

After a steep descent, we forded two creeks, one of which began a long ascent out of a valley. Below is Rich crossing one of the creeks.

After several miles in the woods, we were on a plain with trees to our sides. We passed serious amateur mountain bikers who appeared to be racing. We stood by the side of the path like Tour de France spectators. We encountered them many times careening down rutted paths in the woods as well.

We also filled up our water bottles at a tap. Every segment has had a watering station about every 5 km. We needed such stations because the temperatures by noon are in the high 70’s or low 80’s.

Back in the woods, we were walking off trail to take photos of mushrooms. We stopped to admire the beauty of an open field, a farmer tilling a vineyard, and geese swimming down a creek besides our path. In Quartaia, we stopped for lunch and engaged in an animated conversation, hands flying, with Anna (a Polish emigrate of 41 years) and Daniela, a proud Toscana as she put it. We ended our walk with yes, another climb, to our hotel located just off the VF where we will start tomorrow.

Of course, we had dinner of “real food” — artichoke pie, ravioli Tartufo (Rich), pasta with zucchini (Ron), and pane cotta with limone. We complemented them with a superb Vernaccia. The V we import into the US must be leftovers. Another day completed. More stories tomorrow.

Day 2 (14 October) Strolling — 12 Miles

We had mixed feelings leaving Paridiso. The breakfast was bountiful and the staff gave us such a friendly send off. But we had to go.

We made our way up to the centro storico of Gabassi Terme – a small quaint medieval town. We turned to the right, then left, and every other combination until we found the road south covered in fog, nebbio. We saw no hills but the fog created its own mood. As the Irish say, we were having a soft day.

We walked for about four miles when the fog lifted. We were surprised when two people came out of the woods. They were mushrooms hunters. They had found porcini mushrooms and another kind that we had never seen. The fellow showed us with his hands how was going to cut the mushrooms and sauté them with oil, wine, and then finish the dish with butter. Darn, we still had walking to do.

I titled this blog as strolling because that is how the guidebook labeled it. An easy peasy day. Really? Here’s Rich hiking up one of the easy hills. In the far left background on the horizon is Gambassi Terme. Rich also told me to include another image of him walking under a home with cats lying in a window and in a flower box.

As we neared the top of the next hill, I was amused by the VF sign next to a US Postmaster General approved box. We export our movies and music to Europe. Why not mailboxes.

After a break to rest our feet and eat a small snack, we resumed climbing to the highest point on this segment of the hike. We saw a group of Italian women taking photos at a bend in the road. There it was – San Gigminano. As we came down the hill, bikers and other walkers (we talked with a group of twenty French men and women) were taking more photos of SG. We pushed on to finish our final climb to centro where the Albergo Cisterna is located. Tourists galore.

We joined the crowds after settling into our rooms and walked the town. An impressive World Heritage site. Buildings from the 13th Century and several earlier.

After a brief rest, it was time for dinner. We were off to San Martino 26. We ordered the seven course menu. I’ll show a few of the dishes – faux red olives (tuna with herbs), duck liver with green apples, cuttlefish pasta, risotto with cuttlefish (must use everything, no?), and dessert of creamy lemon. Our wine was a Collio even though we were in Veranaccia land. We had a quiet, leisurely walk back to the hotel passing the Duomo. Where were the tourists?

Day 1 (13 October) The Challenge — 18 Miles

This tour moves one piece of luggage to the next accommodation. We weren’t the only ones walking the VF. Like Laird during our Camino, Rich asked me if our luggage will be at our next destination. The answer is, I don’t know. But as these things go, they were in our rooms when we arrived.

We had a long journey ahead – 18 miles with plenty of elevation changes. Our final climb was 1400 feet within 1.5 miles – that’s equivalent to six Mountaintops in a row. That is why Day 1 is entitled — gThe Challenge

The VF is well marked with various kinds of signs including the old cement ones that are spotted here and there. Rich was particularly comforted by the sign that directed one to call 112 in cases of emergency. First aid stands were placed at points along the route. Here are some examples of the VF signs and the first aid station.

We loved seeing the bands of hills in front of us. Indeed, what one imagines the hills under the Tuscan sun to be. However, we had to climb those hills! As we came down a hill, we knew that eventually we would have to go up.

We started our walk around 8:45. It was around 4:00 when we were on our final climb. We had to make our destination before sunset. We were dreaming of the bed, hot shower, and dinner that awaited us at Tenuta Sant’Ilsidro — what turned out to be Paradiso beyond our expectations. Below is a photo of my bedroom. Dinner was magnificent – Tuscan meat plate split between us, tartufo ravioli for Rich, Tuscan styled osso buco for me, and fresh tomato salads that were paired with the Tenuta’s own red wine. At the end of the meal, I had cantucci with Vin Santo in the same way that Stanley Tucci presented it on CNN. The night ended with a walk passed the pool.

The challenge was met. We were rewarded with accommodations any pilgrim would more than appreciate.

Setting Up (12 October)

It was time to head out to San Miniato, our starting point for the VF. Since we were stopping at a minor station, we had to get a ticket in order to be in the queue to purchase our rail tickets. The self-service kiosks are reserved for inter-city travel between five major cities in Italy. The time was 10:40 and our train was scheduled to depart at 10:53. When I got to the window, the clerk said – not to worry. The train is late. She shrugged and said in English – this is Italy.
Indeed, the train was 35 minutes late. When track 6 was posted, we along with many others dashed for the modern two-decker coaches that were waiting. We settled in. I plugged my iPhone charging cord into the outlet below the seat. Within a minute, we were told our train was further down the tracks. Although old, the train was fast moving. Thirty minutes later we were off the train to catch a bus that would take us to San Miniato old town.

It was 12:30 and the bus was scheduled for 1 PM. Another person waiting for the bus told us that we needed to buy tickets at the cafe across the street. Three euros later for the two of us, we were treated to a Formula 1 drive through roundabouts, and curves up the mountain. About three quarters of the way up, we transferred to a smaller bus whose driver took us on another Grand Prix ride – no additional charge, thank you. After looping one side of the town, we arrived at Hotel San Miniato.

After checking in, we walked to the main piazza to find lunch. We settled on Piccola Osteria del Tartufo. We didn’t know that San Miniato is well known for its black and white truffles. Rich chose the plate of cut meats and I, the tartar of manzo (beef), both seasoned with black truffles. We each had a glass of red San Miniato wine. Our server described the wine as strong. I found that it tasted like a young red blend – Sangiovese and Colorino grapes, a first for me. We enjoyed the food, wine, the friendliness of the servers and chef, and the general ambiance of the place. Afterwards we walked around the town reaching the high ground overlooking the duomo built in the 12th Century. A watchtower sits at the corner of the high ground. Frederick Barbarossa helped build it. A glorious past and present are infused in the lifeblood of this community. Before the tourist office closed, we secured our first stamp of the walk.

We ended the day with a light supper. We are as prepared as can be to start Day 1 of our VF walk. Stay tuned.

Day 14 (23 March). 16 Miles. The Journey Never Ends

As we set out for Santiago, we were torn. We were glad that the daily long walks would be over but also felt a sense of losing the constant anticipation about where the next walk would take us. But isn’t that what each day, regardless of our stage in life, and where we live, is? The past is done; hopefully, we all have treasured memories and lessons learned. The present is the moment that we can’t predict but should be experienced openly and attentively. The future is a fuzzy canvass in which broad strokes of wishful thoughts may be set in pencil but could easily be erased and re-drawn.

During the Camino, Doris Day’s singing of “Que Sera, Sera” kept popping up in my mind. My mother used to play that song when I was a boy. DD sang it in Hitchcock’s movie, the Man Who Knew Too Much. That was the first movie my parents took me to at the Bards near the corner of Adams and Crenshaw, our neighborhood theater. Until 2019 when I did ohenro (88Temples), I did not appreciate what those three words meant. Here’s to you, Doris Day.

We were under 15 miles. Santiago was just over the horizon after approximately 208 miles by our count (final total) not including the ten touring Baiona on our rest day. Our first stone Galician sign was seen on Day 7 as we left A Guarda (159 km). Each day was a day but now that week seemed to be a mere blink. More than most of our daily segments, this one zigged zagged through small villages, farms, and forest. We saw many different examples of Galician granaries including one being built. In a 10 minute span, we joined several fellow pilgrims excitedly making their way to Santiago before dispersing into smaller groups traveling at their own pace. At a bend in the road, we stopped in a church in which a man stamped passports. A Xi’an warrior looked out at us – part of an international company of Camino guardians? The Pope does have his Swiss Guards.

We stopped for lunch where they did not accept Laird’s Burger King coupons. As expected, we finally arrived in Santiago. Of course, the Cathedral was at the top of the hill. We had a long 1.5 mile climb through a built up modern city in order to reach old city. We were able to enter part of the church. We went down to view the tomb of St. James. I lit some candles next to the sanctuary to give thanks for a safe journey and thoughts for my family and friends, past and present. We walked around the old city as night fell. By a busy pedestrian street, we sat and shared a beer. We missed seeing Jennifer and John from Canada. Perhaps the Invisible Hand was busy.

Tomorrow, we plan to check in with the office that issues Compestellas (certificates of completing the Camino) and then immerse ourselves in the city. The Camino was a journey well spent. Thanks for sharing it with us.

In a few days, we will post a final blog with further reflections from the two of us including helpful hints about preparing for the Camino, hotels, and so on.

Day 13 (21 March) 15 Miles. Sensing The End

After 12 days on the road, one might be jaded. But the Camino experience is to take in the present – look about the world and chill. I have included some views from today including a loaf of bread left on top of a gate. At one point, we were following a small truck whose driver stopped to deliver bread in the area. Another Amazon subscription service.

We had almost completed 20,000 steps, our criterion for stopping for lunch. We also needed a stamp on our passports to show our progress. A convenience store appeared at the bend in the road. We ordered our chorizo sandwiches and beer. To the side of the serving counter was a stand with what seemed to be a shrine or was it a not so subtle advertisement satisfying heavenly and earthly needs?

We were on the downhill of the walk entering Padron. Neither the Camino nor the 88 Temple walk is devoid of power plants, refineries, and the like. The town square about a mile later brought us back to a more traditional setting. This is life as we currently live it.

We walked the last five miles in steady rain. We pined for showers and beds to rest weary bones. A wonderful dish of grilled salmon with a fine bottle of Albarino contributed to our well being. Tomorrow, Santiago!

Day 12 (20 March) 17 Miles. Wonderment: Big And Small

The Camino helps one shed the noises and distractions of daily life that oftentimes blocks or blurs the beauty around us. From my hotel room in Pontevedre, I awoke to a sunrise of dark brooding skies. The photo does not capture the dramatic hues of color or the crispness and stillness in the air. I stood there admiring the beginnings of another day.

We carried on after breakfast making tracks on the pilgrim route. Our first stop was nearby at the church of Nuestra Senora Del Refugio – La Divina Peregrina, the Virgin Mother who is the patron of Camino pilgrims. Unlike the Our Lady of Sorrows in Porto (see Prologue), she was in regal robes with the baby Jesus appearing to preside over the pilgrimage. She was dressed in purple, the color of the Lenten season. I don’t recall seeing a Mary without her abaya and hijab. Expand the photograph to see her in more detail.

As we crossed the Rio Lerez, we were treated to a spectacular morning sun that shone through the clouds. Most people did not stop to view the moment as they seemed to be walking to work or doing some errand. It is a privilege to have an free mind and the time to “slow down, you move too fast, you’ve got to make the morning last” (Simon and Garfunkel). I was feeling groovy then and while passing these ducks in a small pond off the side of a road. One could have missed them in an eyeblink.

A bit later, we came upon a group of youths idling below a monument outside of a village we had just passed through. It was Monday, a school day. Break time? Were they on a Camino feeling groovy?

After some ups and downs, twists and turn, lunchtime had arrived. Almost on cue, a greeting committee met to beckon us to a restaurant. Besides our beer, we ladled our own chicken broth soup that was populated with the tiniest pasta. We devoured it all – enough for two bowls each.

Near the end of our walk, we Duoed with Laird’s daughter, Kate, and her fifth/sixth grade students in New Hampshire. We broadcasted a 10 minute Rick Steve’s like segment on the Camino that included a guest interview with an Australians mother-daughter pair, Pam and Jenny, who were coming up the trail. We had told the students that people around the world walk the Camino. What timing. We took a photo of them later as we were sitting having a beer at a sidewalk cafe a few blocks from our hotel.

You also probably guessed that Jennifer and John from Canada made their sixth appearance. The clock was running diwn. We had almost given up hope that we would see them yesterday. Near sunset, they appeared and shared their day with us. We were left in wonderment.

Day 11 (20 March) 10 miles. Old and New

It was Sunday. Breakfast started at 9 AM. Our walk was short. We started off at 10:30 and walked at a leisurely pace experiencing what was clearly roads and paths that were used during earlier Caminos. In a village outside of Arcade, we were directed to go right by a modern Camino sign but also an older one below it. Like the 88 temple walk, most of the signs are new but occasionally I came across signs from previous eras. One senses a bond with pilgrims of old.

We also met many more pilgrims. From Porto to Vigo, we saw a handful. Now, we met that many by the hour. We surmised that many start from Vigo which is just outside the required 100km walking distance to qualify for a Compestella. Also, we were on the path after which different branches of the Portuguese Camino meet. Above VIgo, someone had drawn a stylized line showing the merger of the green and yellow paths. We think that wavy line represents the sea.

We met our first Americans in Arcade at our hotel in Arcade. They had started from Vigo.

I need to digress for a moment because upon reflection, I may have given an incomplete review of Vigo. Indeed, our first encounter was the harbor and cars oftentimes ignoring pedestrians waiting to cross streets. But Vigo Centro reminded me of the boulevards of several main cities in the Spanish world such as Barcelona, Buenos Aires, Madrid with their 8-10 story apartment buildings and stores on the street level. Before dawn, cleaning machines were up and down Centro Vigo’s streets and trash cans were emptied. Drivers almost always stopped for pedestrians as they do throughout the city and country roads that we have walked in Portugal and Spain. Drivers in Bethlehem need to be re-trained to better the ambiance of a walking environment.

That said, back to the trail. We met a trio who had stopped at a crossroad – Numo, Carlo, and Christine. Numo and Carlo are boyhood best friends from Madeira, a Portuguese island off the coast of Morocco. Numo had walked Camino in early 2020. He described how difficult it was because of the lockdown. Lodgings and restaurants were closed. When he asked locals for water, they told him to place his bottle on a window sill to be filled. No close contact. Was that how people experienced Camino during periods of the plague? Numo said that he has returned to the Camino to achieve balance in his life. ”I run at 12,000 rpm; Camino calms me to 1,000.” Although an aviation mechanic, Numo’s passions are rally car driving and mountain biking especially on Madeira’s slopes.

Carlo, his best friend, married and moved to Lisbon. He is an electrical engineer but changed to a software designer who heads two teams consulting with large size companies. He and Numo seldom see one another. Camino is their opportunity to be together as they used to be going to school in Madeira.

Krista is from Vancouver, Canada, lived in Chicago, and now, the Netherlands. She is a practicing Catholic. The Camino was on her bucket list. I did not have the opportunity to talk with her thus her story is short. She had met Numo and Carlo only that morning.

We walked by crosses formed by twigs, old grape vines (probably Albarino), and Galician stone granaries. We were shocked when we encountered construction of a new highway that was being cut into the hills. The pastoral beauty of the countryside was being cut by one of the inventions of the 20th Century. Pilgrims in the future will be walking across a steel bridge to continue their journey.

It was time for the Invisible Hand to show its work. The Camino path divides into two near Pontevedre – the main path along a busy country road and a branch along a stream. Taking Yogi Berra’s advice, ”When you come to a fork in the road, take it,” we did. (Yogi Berra was a Baseball Hall of Fame catcher for the New York Yankees. Look up his other sayings.)

Just across a bridge, we saw our old friends, Jennifer and John, for the fifth time. They had taken an unmarked trail and were on a snack break. Who would have thought. They sent us reciprocal photos of us with our poles.

Our touch with the future happened again when we checked into our hotel in Pontevedre. We came to the front door and were confronted with metal and glass – written on the glass was welcome in several languages. Welcome? In front of me was an intercom. I pressed the button with a bell symbol. A recorded voice came back in Spanish. What does a non-Spanish speaker do? Written on the wall, in Spanish and English, were instructions to call a phone number in case of problems. I did and a fellow responded in Spanish then English. I was told to press in a code number. Alacazam! The door opened.

No one was at the reception desk. To check in, I went to a console, pressed a button, and a woman with a headset appeared. She took our vitals. Left of the screen were our keys with our room cards and instructions on how to enter the hotel if we left. Our bags were in our rooms.

In the morning, we wondered if someone would appear for laying out the breakfast buffet and for checking us out. Lorena was there – all smiles with instructions on where to put our baggage for pick-up. We were also impressed how ecologically minded the hotel was. We also haven’t seen a straw in either Portugal or Spain. The future?

The Wheel of Time keeps turning. We are in the present but have walked where many have before us. Those in the future will do so as well but will see and experience a different Camino.

Day 10 (19 March) 18 Miles. Ups and Downs

Although the length of this segment was less than 20 miles, we agreed that it was the hardest of our camino. The highest and steepest climb was up a mountain from which the picture below was taken. Vigo stretched out before us. About an hour and a half before, we had hiked up the hill in the distance. Towards the end, we had to deal with long grades as we neared Arcade where our hotel was located. I photographed Laird coming down one of the steeper grades to give you a sense of the challenges of the day. What goes up eventually comes down. It was hard on the knees.

Every walk produces surprises. As we walked up the wooded hill in the background of the Vigo Vista, we heard loud cheering from a stadium above. Curious, we stopped and watched a match of youth league futbol. The fellows with the masks were standing by for their game to start. Games go on all day because of the number of teams in the league.

As we plowed on, we met John Jimenez, a young professional cyclist from Costa Rica. Note his right arm that is in a sling. A month ago, he crashed during a race. He broke his collarbone; he showed us the staples that closed the wound. Ouch. He’ll be back in the saddle next month. His dream is to ride in the Tour de France. Perhaps we will see on a broadcast in July.

While making the descent from the mountain, we came across Kim and Duc from Germany. Kim is an internal medicine physician and Duc is a software engineer. They had made it to this point from Porto in six days whereas it took us ten. They were carrying full packs! We were not being competitive in making this comparison. Kim is 28 and Duc, 32. Our age differences brought home the point of youthful bodies. Both of them also had wonderful spirits to explore and experience the world. We wished them well when we met them later dining at our hotel restaurant. The Invisible Hand?

As arduous as this walk was, meeting these young people reinforced our belief that no matter how bad the news may be, these young people are following their dreams and in their different ways are contributing to the commonweal. We are in good hands.

Tomorrow, breakfast starts at nine because it is Sunday. Our walk is about 9 miles. Another welcome respite for weary bodies with high spirits.

Day 9 (18 March) 20 Miles. The Invisible Hand

We started at 8:45 this morning anticipating a long day. The skies were blue and I only wore my wool t-shirt. A local commented that the weather was unusual because March weather is bleak and rainy like the days before our tourist respite in Baiona. Seventy degrees plus blue skies? Something was afoot in the weather. We liked it just fine although we forgot to pack sun block. We bought some when we entered Vigo.

Our route took us along the shoreline of towns with sandy beaches and built up “boardwalks” like the Jersey shore. We passed our first palm tree. We walked on a few beaches; to exit one, we had a climb up a long stairway with steep steps. Glad we did hill training. We also saw an unofficial sign with 115.8 kms posted. I emphasize unofficial.

Stairwell To Just Rewards (More Walking)

We were closing in on noon. We spotted a restaurant with outdoor tables. Who did we meet for the fourth time – our Canadian friends – Jennifer and John. They are walking free lance choosing hotels each day. They spent the previous night in the mountains and were on their way to Vigo but staying at a different hotel. Coincidence? Is there an Invisible Hand moving pilgrims on the Camino?

We pushed on to Vigo along a lovely path by the sea. We crossed under a major road. Within 50 meters, a construction fence blocked our path. We detoured up a path right into a highly urbanized part of the city with buzzing cars speeding in and out of the roundabouts. The detour probably added a mile to our distance.

We were in a gritty part of the city along the harbor front. My iPhone lost power so we relied on Laird’s Waze to bring us home. Tired, feet hurting, our receptionists checked us in, and connected us to WIFI. Boots off, shower, and we were down for the count.

Two hours later (8:30 PM), we arrived at Morrofino for dinner – a Michelin cited restaurant serving good food at a good price – not a starred one.

We chose the menu with seven courses (two dessert courses of the seven) with an Albarino. Each course was small but very tasty. Every dish was excellent. We think the potato waffle with kimchee and smoked eel was outstanding. The kimchee taste was there but subtle. We had our first taste of ice cream combined with what the menu stated was blondie chocolate cream. Blond chocolate? I went with the flow.

When we arrived at opening time, we were one of two occupied tables. Like our experiences in the Middle East, we were wondering how this restaurant could stay afloat. The next arrivals came around 10 PM. We left around 11 PM, here’s what it looked like. Morrofino was hopping.

The city was busy as well. We took a deep breath and made it back to our hotel. I slept uninterrupted until 6 AM, a world record for me.