Camino Santiago III - The Portuguese Way

Tobias Heller
22. Aug. 2017
9 Min. Lesezeit

Right after the reknown Camino Frances, the Camino Portuguese is the second most popular of them. It covers a distance of about 250 km and offers two variations - of which I have not been aware due to bad research when I started. One leads directly along the coast, though is less frequented by people as most refrain from this walk as the net of albergues and accomodations is less sophisticated and etablished than on the second version. The latter leads off the shore in a straight line from Santiago to Porto via culturally interesting cities such as Ponte de Lima, though offers no coastal parts.

Day 21 / 48 km

Santiago de Compostela - Padron - Caldas de Reis

I once more enter into the center of Santiago und start my second Camino, the Camino Portuguese. This one indeed is much shorter than the Camino del Norte and I feel like I already did most of the journey, though now it is going to be interesting in hindsight that I am running against the flow, backwards. Nontheless I have to get used to walk exactly in the opposite direction the yellow arrows point to, and I am already prepared to endure people hinting that I am running in the wrong direction.

And indeed it is weird to encounter many hikers of the Camino Portuguese, sweaty and worn out from the effort and so close to reach their final goal, awhilst I just started this Camino after already having done 840 kilometers. As expected I frequently encounter people who look at me somewhat puzzled, others also telling me with a smirking smile on their face that this is not the wrong direction. Though I am not so fond of running against the flow and getting tired of wishing a "Buen Camino" after a while, I am often rewarded with a friendly smile, a nice laugh from a stranger passing me, establishing some kind of short connection, and it somehow sets me into a good mood to see all those happy faces. After a while I reach the first stage of today Padron, though well of course this would never be where I stop the walk for today, so I move on until late, putting my hammock in one of the forests next to a village.

Day 22 / 38 km

Caldas de Reis - Pontevedra - Redondela

Though during day it was not cold at night temperatures drop dramatically that night and when I wake up I am freezing. As the cold seems to come mainly from below I slip into a sweater and place my yoga mat in the hammock, which helps better to keep the warmth inside the sleeping bag. While three weeks ago cracking and aching sounds in the forest at night whould have made me listen tightly if there is someone sneaking up on me, now I do not even care about it. I start a bit too late into the morning, prepare and tape my feet which has become morning routine, and set off. Not long does it take me to arrive in Pontevedra as I march on without any break, and even before lunch time has I arrived I find myself standing in the center, where I drop off my bag at the tourist information in order to do some light exploring of the city. And indeed the place is beautiful with old but yet welcoming, sun filled squares and interesting churches and architecture. After this I walk on in direction Redondela, where briefly afterwards I find space for my hammock to sleep.

Day 23 / 39 km

Redondela - O Porrino - Valenca do Minho

Finally today I am up to cross the border, leaving Spain and entering Portugal. From Tui, a small city with a cathedral which seems to be a mixture with the appearance of a castle. To cross over, it is necessary to go over the river which devides Portugal from Spain. Both countries are connected by a bridge consisting of a metallic construction, and a large sign on the other side welcomes to Portugal. Well, finally from the french border I arrive in a new country.

The city in front of me is impressively surrounded by the old and ancient city walls, and despite the further long walk that lies ahead of me I am tempted to explore the city and the old walls for a while, as well as admire the view over to Spain. That Spain and Portugal are indeed not as similar as expected is something I will find out soon, first of all I expected to step right into siesta time as it is early afternoon, though they confirm siesta does not exist here. Seeing this as an advantage I will similarly miss the therefore longer opening times.

When I walk out of the center and briefly miss the yellow arrows, I walk along a biking pathway straight ahead in the - what I assume at least - right direction. After a while I finally encounter the arrows and signs again, and keep on following. Why is the way drifting off so far to the west? Measuring by the position of the sun, I am heading too far away from the direct pathway, which does not make sense to me at all. I find a sign which tells "Camino Portuguese - Coastal Way", which renders me puzzled. Did I miss the splitting of the way into the one that leads via Ponte de Lima, the city I was heading for next, and the version which, apparently, directly leads to the coast. I encounter some locals who are working in their garden, though being used to Spain I do not hope for someone speaking english and I guss my spanish will not be the best use here, though they might understand. Surprisingly they speak a bit of english and confirm there are two ways. What now, I only got maps for the original route and I have no idea about the distances? I consider it and then decide going back would be no option for me, and the coast turned out to be overly beautiful in the north, so why not also go for a little additional adventure? I stroll off, keeping on following the yellow arrows while it is getting late already and I arrive in a small city decorated with colourful umbrellas, still several kilometers from Caminha, which I was told is the next stage. When it is getting dark I see no oportunity than going along the river, having lost the arrows once more, though sure the direction is right - along the river until it reaches the seaside and then along the coast, should not be too hard then, well? I find a little deserted house with a concrete wall around it directly next to the sea, climb over and try to sleep there as it is already dark.

Day 24 / 45 km

Valenca do Minho - Caminha - Viana do Castelo

The night turns out to be not the best. First of all, I am wakened up by the terrible screeching sound of rats, which I assume seem to climb out of the river at night. Guessing by how loud the squeaking is, I imagine these animals to be quite large and I hope they stay out of the little wall that serves as protection. All of a sudden cars are coming down the small cobble street, their wheels grinding along the small way, stopping closeby, doors being opened and thrust shut, headlights shining brightly through the gate of the wall. I beg these people will not see me, I am slightly hidden behind the wall though I hope they do not enter into the yard in front of the house. These men however seem to be busy with works at the river, and their voices in harsh portuguese mingle with the squeaks of rats. I have no idea what they are doing, I only here occasional clangs and crashes, water splashing and the sound of their boots on the gravel pathway. Late at night they finally leave and I am able to find rest, sinking into a light sleep. In the morning I start to walk along the river, mists clinging to the boats that are ankering here, the sun illuminating the scene with a fresh, radiant glow.

I follow the river further on and manage to get some new maps in the tourist information in Caminha with a very friendly woman behind the counter who so nicely offers much advice and information. Following the river, it finally ends up at the open sea, and I find myself once more walking along several nice beaches, small pathways through green scenery mixed with white rocks and flowers. Back to the coast!

Day 25 / 50 km

Viana do Castelo - Esposende - Vila do Conde

It is enormously hot today, and I know it is only two more stages until I finally finish this hike. With the decision to continue the coastal way of the portugese path I am still overly happy, as walking along the cost seems much more interesting for me than through forests and green hills. When I leave the center of Esposende I find large dunes of sand and an seemingly endless wooden pathway that leads in soft up and downs along the coastline. The winds are extremely strong, pressing in the waves with a tremendous force, making it impossible to swim there or simply dare to get too close to the water. It is a weird atmosphere, despite the strong sunshine humid mists are putting a translucent layer over the cliffs, making it appear slightly dreamy, surreal.

Briefly before Povoa Varzim I finally spot the higher buildings of the city, enthroned piercing out of the mist that evaporates out of the ocean by the thrusting waves, rocks gathering like a dangerous enemy in the front. It all contributes to a rather dramatic and wild scenery with the troubled and rough seaside, debris of shells lying around everywhere, birds dashing foward hastily to be able to cope with the strong wind. Once closer to the city center I encounter beaches filled up with people, crammed and packed today and I walk amidst many people who stroll along the long promenades. It is already late, but I am drowned of energy and I need to sit down in a cafe, relaxing for a while and refreshing myself with some coffeine. In that bar I get to talk with a local guy, slightly older than I am, who is somehow in disbelief that I still want to walk futher today. He offers to take me along the whole lenght of the promenade by car until it reaches a bridge which passes over to a more tranquilized area, outside of the city. I decline, and even though I know it will get enormously late I go for his second suggestion to give me a little sightseeing ride. Only under the one and only condition that I will be dropped of right at the very spot where I stopped to walk, in order to continue.

As he is local he gives me a ride along the coastline, and indeed by car it seems much further than it would by walking. I still need to go this distance to leave the city? Oh well, it will be very late today. The ride though is nice, I get a tour of the city and we drive onto a platform from where a nice view opens up onto the river, as well as the bridge I need to reach today and the skyline of Povoa in the back with Vila do Conde in the front. As promised he returns me to the cafe, the sky already dark, and I keep walking despite the late hour. And indeed while going by car it seemed a much further distance than it actually is and I arrive after one hour at the bridge, cross over and find myself in relative darkness as there are only a few houses. I find a church with a veranda, the gates are closed but to jump over is easy. This appears to be the best sleeping spot for tonight, and I am sure before anyone will spot me I am long gone tomorrow morning, in order to do the last distance which seperates me from Porto.

Day 25 / 50 km

Vila do Conde - Macosintho - Porto

The day has come, it is no more than 35 km in order to finally arrive at the finish line. Once more I put on the terribly smelling woolen socks, though today I am rather careless with taping my feet. The leathery sole which my skin on the feet has become is strong enough to endure also those last kilometers. I stroll off following the yellow arrows, though I switch freestyle to the coastline earlier in order to not walk along boring asphalt streets. And indeed a wooden pathway leads all along the coast and offers a comfortable last walk, amidst tourists going to one of several beaches. Halfway unfortunately I have to walk past a large oil industry, with several high chimneys evaporating smoke into the sky. Weird as it is, the beach here is even more crowded and I can not find any explanation why anyone would prefer this beach while only a few kilometers away the industrial area vanishes out of sight. Funnily a large sign along the way explains about biodiversity and nature protection. Ridiculously misplaced.

The sun's strength is similarly as the day before, intensly burning down on me, stinging on my already reddened skin. Every kilometer today seems to take forever and I am drowned of my energy also due to the heat, forcing me to take several smaller breaks. Until I finally arrive at the outskirts of Porto, from where I follow the river Dorou inlands to the center. Once there I am happy, tired and exhausted and I am so much looking forward for a bed. First though I need to do something, and I walk up the last stairs before stepping into the cathedral and asking for one thing: the last stamp for the Camino. 26 days, 1100 kilometers, blisters, knee pain and sleeping outside frequently but living through so many various different places reaching from beaches, cliffs, forests to cities and villages finally has found it's end. I did it.