October 16, 2022. At Pontevedra, Spain.

Dear Christine. Whatever today lacked in pictures it more than made up for in emotional connections. Before I explore the depths of those matters, here’s the business of the day:

I decided to spend an extra day in Pontevedra to arrange lodgings between here and Santiago, baggage transfers to that point, bag storage to lighten my pack for my hike to the Atlantic coast, and final accommodations before I fly to meet you in Barcelona.

With just a few “hiccups“ all of that was successfully arranged. I then set off in search of breakfast and took a stroll through this wonderful old town.

I visited the main cathedral where it was obvious that preparation’s were being made for a wedding.

For lunch I found a pizza-by-the-slice shop which did honor to that centuries-old tradition, and later one of your favorites, Peppers Padron.

While I sat watching life evolve around me it occurred to me that the Camino is like a tidal river: In the morning the pilgrims leave for their day’s journey, much is tidal waters recede. In the afternoon a flow of new pilgrims arrive, again like the surge of an incoming tide.

When I am walking the Camino, I am part of, and belong to that flow. However, by staying behind an extra day I left the stream. I left Ken and Bambi, acquiring in their place a sense of loss. We hold hope to rejoin for dinner this coming Wednesday evening in Santiago.

Pizza and peppers consumed, I began walking the narrow streets of the old city. I was alone with my thoughts which bounced around like ping pong balls in a lottery tumbler. I thought of Kris, Ken, Bambi, and of course you. At some point I thought of a German woman who joined Ken, Bambi, and me at a pizza restaurant two nights ago in Redondela. She was walking solo and experiencing some difficulty with blisters. Within a minute of those thoughts she emerged from a side street to walk in front of me! I recognized the hair, her orange colored top, and reflexively called, “Tina!“ With a look of shock she turned, and after a brief hesitation replied, “Peter?“

We spoke. She was on her way to her hostel after a challenging day. We arranged to meet at 7 pm for drinks and dinner.

Nearing the appointed hour I waited near her hostel, admiring a hundreds of years old stone cross that marked the route of the Camino.

I was soon joined by a woman who first focused on that cross, but then turned her attention to me, “I know you!“ It was Lynn who gifted me the silver Camino shell that I attached to my earring. As you have said, it appears I am transforming myself into a pirate! When I last saw her, she and Bambi were preparing to dip their tired feet in a creek’s cooling waters.

A few minutes later I was introducing Tina and Lynn to each other, and the three of us set off to begin a memorable, perhaps even magical evening.

The three of us hope to meet again tomorrow for dinner. The next destination is 23 km from here, Caldas de Reis, site of ancient Roman thermal baths that continue to pour forth their 100+ degree waters.

I can sum up the evening in five words: I wish you were here. Love, Me

PS. It appears that whatever has been preventing email notices of these posts from being sent out has at least partially been corrected. It seems that Gmail accounts are once again receiving the links. My fingers are crossed that the resolution is broader than that.

October 14, 2022. At Pontevedra, Spain.

Dear Christine. It’s 1130 at night here and 3:30 in the afternoon where you are. It’s one thing to be separated by distance, and yet stranger to be separated by time. I’m looking forward to your arrival in France in a couple of weeks. Even though we will remain physically separated at least we will be in the same temporal world!

Today I again happened to encounter Ken and Bambi walking the Camino. They are wonderful people and I look forward to us connecting with them in Georgia, Kansas City, Colorado, or all of the above.

One thing different about today was the explosion of Americans that we encountered. There were people from Oregon, Minnesota, California… and this delightful lady, Lynn, who has been gifting every American she meets with a small silver Santiago scallop shell.

I attached mine to one of my earrings and promised Lynn that it would not come off for the duration of this Camino. I confess that I am not very good with “selfies“.

We visited for quite a while along a stream in the woods. She explained that she was selling everything back in the States and moving to Portugal. She is such a kind and deeply spiritual lady in a way that reminds me of our dear friend Maggie.

I also understand that there is a couple here from Missouri, but nobody has been able to tell me from what part.

We arrived in Pontevedra this afternoon after a somewhat difficult 21 km hike that included two significant uphill sections.

We rejoined for dinner. The prices are amazing. An excellent BOTTLE of wine cost only €13. The whole dinner which included appetizer, main dishes, coffee, after dinner drinks, and dessert, was just south of €100 for the three of us!

In addition to Americans, today featured Sarah and Jessica, sisters from Venezuela.

There were also Peregrinos from Germany, Holland, South Africa, Spain, Italy, and France, just to name a few.

Pontevedra is where the coastal route of the Portuguese Camino merges with the central route. No doubt, that explains the increase in “traffic“. Today is also the day that I think I found the soul of this journey. Not in the places, but in the people. It was that way in 2013, 2018, and I’m finding it to be the same in 2022.

I have decided to take an extra day here in Pontevedra and dedicate time to creating an itinerary that will take me into Santiago and then on to Finisterra and Muxia.

As of this evening I am only 67 km from Santiago. Santiago lay 251 km ahead when I took my first steps toward that destination on October 4th. These last 10 days have been a blur!

Ken and Bambi will continue on in the morning but we are going to do our best to rejoin for dinner in Santiago this coming Wednesday. They will be staying in the Parador Hotel ($$$$), while I am working to secure an accommodation in one of the pilgrim rooms at Hospitallilo San Martin Pinario ($).

I’ve tried to balance staying at albergues with staying in simple and inexpensive hotels. The hotels offer privacy with the luxury of one’s own bath, but the hostels and albergues give a sense of adventure and communal association. Last night a small group of South African pilgrims were up late and needed help finishing their wine. I was happy to oblige!

Here are some images from my room last night in Redondela.

My tiny space had two beds with an open passage to a second similar room separated only by a pulldown blind. Thankfully, no-one was in the second bed in my room. Unfortunately, the adjoining space featured a world class snorer. Still it was one of the best nights sleep that I’ve had so far on this journey.

I am including some images from today and yesterday with captions where appropriate.

This is an informal vendor who has set up to make a few euro by selling trinkets, snacks,and beverages
Another vendor, she is operating out of her car.

Please give the grandkids hugs from me and wishes for success in their sports this weekend!

I’m counting down the days until we are in the same time zone… and then the same place.

Love, Me.

October 12, 2022. At Vigo, Spain.

Dear Christine. I had a wonderful time at dinner last night with Tom and Bambi, from Georgia. It’s remarkable how alike many of our professional and life circumstances are.

In 2018 we were fortunate to have met our Canadian “doppelgängers“ Tom and Nanci. History repeats, but alas you are not here. I am confident we will get together back in the States. The motivation is strong and they have heard so much about you for me it is as if they already know you.

My walk back to the Pension last night was spectacular. I did not have my camera, but then I did have my iPhone.

Early yesterday as I was reviewing today’s route it appeared that I was up against a very long day of well over 25 km. On top of that there were a number of significant climbs and route complications. I decided to catch an early morning bus and eliminate the first 7 km. This would also leapfrog me out of the urban area and into some very pleasant forest trails.

First light does not occur here until 8:30 AM. The bus departure was 8 AM and because there is some kind of a holiday there was a reduced timetable. The next bus would not be until 10 AM, too late for me.

I arrived at the bus stop 15 minutes early. The bus was already there, engine running, but the bus driver did not open the door until 10 minutes before departure. As I began to step onto the bus he halted me and pointed to his masked face. No mask, no ride, no exception! Nobody told me! I was in a panic. The driver spoke no English but was touched by my predicament. He searched through his own belongings to see if he had an extra mask. No mask.

The clock was ticking and I ran across the street to a café that had just opened. I pantomimed my need to the proprietor and the only two customers who were enjoying their coffee. No masks.

I returned to the bus stop and laying my day pack down in the dark I began frantically searched through its contents by feel. No mask.

Crestfallen, I began to turn toward the bus to indicate my defeat. However, my eye caught a dark shape just a few feet from me, nearly camouflaged and invisible against the dark bench. IT WAS A MASK!!

With less than a minute to spare I was on the bus and we were wheels-rolling out of town.

Camino magic? Camino moment? Miracle?… Or just somebody forgot their mask. In any case, in my moment of need my eye set up on it. It really doesn’t matter what I call it. The outcome was the same. The incident set into motion a cascade of thoughts that lasted the duration of my 21 km hike. I wish you had been at my side so that I could have processed my musings with you in real time. Writing them to you in this letter is the next best thing.

As I have said many times: Every miracle comes in two parts, that it occurred, and more important that it was noticed. It also occurs to me that our common understanding of what constitutes a “miracle“ blinds us to the “little miracles” of daily life. The magnitude of those events portrayed from church pulpits is beyond most human experience. What if the conspiracy of time and retelling has taken otherwise noteworthy events and embellished them into the fantastic? Like the size of an angler’s catch grows with each retelling.

Take for example the biblical miracle of the loaves and fishes. In Christ’s time hospitality required the host to provide food and drink for his guests. A multitude had assembled to hear Jesus speak. In essence, he was the host and they were the guests. Imagine the panic of the disciples… How could they possibly honor their duty to such a crowd?

I was taught in parochial school that Jesus found a boy carrying a basket with loaves and fish. Jesus blessed the food, broke the bread and then in distributing them the amount of food miraculously expanded to fill everyone’s need with 12 baskets of leftovers remaining. A miracle! But what if there is an alternate explanation:

Jesus was often referred to as “Teacher“. In fact, that is exactly what he was doing that day on the Mount, teaching. What if in securing those loaves and fish he intentionally and publicly shared the food with those around him, teaching by example.

In that era people rarely left home without taking some food and drink with them. By his example Christ inspired the crowd to share and care for one another. Isn’t that a miracle? What’s more, it is something that Jesus could teach that is within our human capacity to repeat. Amen.

The hike today was long but very pleasant. Most of it was through a huge forest, climbing up and through the mountains overlooking the sea. It was certainly much more pleasant than slogging through the urban areas below.

I did take one wrong turn which ended up adding a few kilometers to my hike. Thank goodness for the early morning bus ride!

This church dates to the 13th century!

I arrived in Vigo in the early afternoon. It is urban, and that says it all.

I am meeting Ken and Bambi again for dinner this evening and looking forward to sharing our tales from this day.

Thank you for being my wife… and at times my muse. Love, Peter

PS. During my hike I passed by an attractive rural home and yard. An older woman was creating a mosaic on the wall next to her garden. It was quite extraordinary. I wish I could’ve stopped to talk with her but I was afraid I would merely scare her and distract her from her art.

October 11, 2022. At Baiona, Spain.

Dear Christine. What a grand day this has been! I meant this to be a rest day, and it has been with the exception of my feet. I have accumulated nearly 20,000 steps touring the town of Baiona today, approximately 10 miles and I am not through. I am meeting Ken and Bambi this evening at the Parador for drinks and dinner. Perhaps that’s a good place to start sharing my day:

As you may recall, Paradors are historical structures that have been taken over by the government and converted into top-flight hotels.

It’s a great concept that preserves history yet minimizes cost while serving a modern purpose that promotes tourism.

This Parador is not quite as exceptional as the ones that we saw in Santiago de Compostela and Leon. The cost is also not as excessive. I could have secured a room here for €85 a night, far less than the €200-300 that is quoted in Santiago.

This one is situated within the confines of a huge fortress. There is a walkway around the perimeter of the fortress that is 3 km long. I wasn’t aware that one had to be a guest of the Parador in order to walk the grounds and the upper wall. No one stopped me, so no harm no foul. I ended up walking both the lower and upper perimeters.

Visible from the Parador is the 50 foot tall statue of Our Lady of the Rock.

Her construction began in 1930 atop a small mountain near the seashore. She was completed in 1953. The climb to the foot of the statue consists of irregular stone stairs and The Stations of the Cross.

She is huge! These pictures do not give the best perspective of size. However, you will see that she holds in the crook of her right arm a boat.

One climbs to the boat, which is a viewing platform, through the center of the statue. It is an extremely tight winding staircase that is not more than 18 inches wide.

The view from the top is extraordinary but not for the faint of heart. There is only enough room on the platform for two or three people at a time.

In the harbor is an exact replica of Columbus‘s ship, the Nina.

She sailed into this port and took on final provisions before crossing to the New World. Upon her return from “discovering America“ The captain made this his first landfall in Europe so that he could personally deliver the news of the great discovery. The town celebrates this event every year with a festival on March 1st.

The ship had a crew of between 27 and 30, including the captain and navigator. It’s hard to imagine that this ship was capable of an ocean crossing.

Sometime ago we saw a replica of the Pinta and on another occasion the Santa Maria. By my recollection the Santa Maria was not much larger, and the Pinto was quite a bit smaller. These vessels has more in common with a large bobber than a sailboat.

Finally, I visited Saint Maria Church which dates to the 13th century.

What is most interesting is the clarity of the stonemason marks throughout the interior. These “signatures“ were placed by the stonemasons as proof of their work and entitlement to compensation.

I have made reservations for the next three nights which will see me to Pontevedra, only 70km from Santiago. However, I am considering taking an alternate route known as the “spiritual variant“ which will add approximately 40km to the total distance. That final decision is pending.

Going to get this posted before I head off to meet Ken and Bambi. I hope to get to bed early in preparation for the long day ahead.

Love, Peter

PS. Just a couple more pictures.

October 8–10, 2022. At Baiona Spain.

Dear Christine. As of this afternoon I am 130 km from Santiago de Compostela, the approximate halfway point from Porto. We also crossed into Spain yesterday. Tonight is my 11th night in Europe. The days are flying by!!

I will give you a better overview of the last three days and include some pictures later, but for now I want to focus on a fundamental change in this journey. Until this morning I walked in the company of Kris. When we began it was understood that she would go as far as Oia Spain and then decide whether to go further or spend some special time with her friend Tanya who runs a tourist guest house in that town. She elected the latter and thus the “fork in the road”.

As we walked together the focus was much on conversation between us and less on the experience around us. Embarking alone this morning I found the experience vastly different. The only voice I heard was the one in my thoughts. My awareness of the surroundings was heightened as I could no longer rely upon Kris’ experience on this route to guide me.

I’m grateful for the time that I had in her company and I am equally grateful to have the experience of going forward alone. I made excellent time today in spite of this being my first rainy day on the Camino. The skies are supposed to clear tomorrow. I have scheduled a “rest day“ to take in this wonderful seaside village and plan out the next few days. Now for the overview:

October 8 found us walking parallel with the shore and being very aware of the tide.

It was low tide which treated us to the sight of local men and women harvesting shellfish. The green things that Kris is looking at are large crabs, covered with seaweed.

In the distance I made out a tidal swimming pool.

Remember when we were at Jersey Island off the coast of France and a huge tidal swimming complex was located across the street from our lodging? Well, just like that one, the walls of the “pool“ are built to a height slightly lower than high tide. When the tide comes in water overtops the walls and refreshes the impoundment. I wonder how many centuries this “technology“ has been employed by coastal civilizations.

We came upon some unusual stones, carved flat with slightly elevated edges.

These were iron age “salt pans“. Ancient people created these to hold shallow seawater that then evaporated in the sun, leaving salt behind for harvest.

There were more windmills, this one with wooden vanes is the only one of its kind in Portugal.

All of the others use cloth sails suspended from the four masts.

The following day there was more coastal walking.

The surf was really up which seemed predictive of the changing weather and rain that hit this morning (the 10th).

Kris had arranged a ferry crossing of the Minho river for the 9th from Portugal in Spain. Near its outlet to the Atlantic the river is very wide which is why there is no bridge until miles inland. Our “ferry“ was little more than a powered fishing boat.

The passage was exhilarating and only took about 10 minutes.

After a brief photo opportunity, more hiking followed.

Oia and the guesthouse “La Cala” were our destinations for the evening of the 9th.

Kris and I were received with open arms by Tanya, the owner of the guesthouse.

She and Kris had shared duties as volunteers in an alburgue a few years ago and struck up a lasting friendship.

Tanya is from the United States and took on the remarkable task of renovating an older structure and converting it into a very modern facility that serves up to 10 guests a night. In honor of the reunion we all met at a delightful restaurant just down the hill and enjoyed excellent meat dishes, excellent wine, and liquid dessert in the form of glasses of port wine. I was treated more like a long-lost friend than a new acquaintance.

This morning I woke early in order to get a head start on a damp and dreary day.

In spite of the rain the walk was peaceful and meditative.

I met two ladies of approximately my age from New Zealand, both excellent hikers.

A part of the path was through forest upon a 2,000 year old Roman road. Tracks were deeply grooved into the stone from the passage of countless chariots and carts in those bygone days. It was extraordinary.

Tomorrow I will enjoy touring this town and provide you pictures and insight into what it’s like for me to be “invisible“ to the comings and goings of the local population.

Sleep well, which seems the appropriate thing for me to say since it’s night here. I love you. Peter

PS. Please give Kane and little Lennon big hugs from me. It’s incredible that two of our grandchildren would suffer broken bones on consecutive days!