Dear Christine. Throughout the 2 Caminos that we have walked together, one in 2013, and one in 2018, we marveled at the frequent, unanticipated and unexplainable events that we came to call “Camino Moments“. Eddie, the pilgrim from Puerto Rico, once instructed me, “Peter, in life there are no coincidences.“ How right he was.
We begin our walk this morning on the Camino with a visit to the cathedral in order to get our credentials stamped at the start.
I walked up to the counter where the young women prepared to assist me. I immediately recognized her. It took her just a moment before her eyes grew wide and she spoke my name. Do you recall those two young women students who were so helpful to us in Porto in 2018? One was Mafalda, and the other was Rita. Here’s the picture of us with them from 2018. Rita is on the left.
The young lady at the counter this morning was Rita! Of all the people in this huge city that I would encounter on the first step of this Camino, how can one explain this intersection of lives renewed!
She quickly grabbed her cell phone and feverishly opened her Facebook app. She turned to her coworker and displayed to him our picture. She spoke excitedly to him in Portuguese but no doubt was explaining the context of this meeting. He was struck dumb as were so many people standing around us.
She came around to the front of the counter, we embraced, posed for a picture, and some further explanation was then shared with those around us, all to their further amazement. In life and on the Camino there are no coincidences.
We covered 16 km today, almost all along a lovely seashore. Tomorrow it will be up early to cover 22 km of the next stage.
Our hostel is clean and modern. Our four person dorm is a bit cramped very serviceable.
The room is shared with a man and a woman (not a couple) who are both from Germany. I am getting more practice with that language, all to my thorough joy.
I am going to leave off for now as I need to try and get this post loaded, shower, and get some SLEEP!! I will include more pictures at the end.
Dear Christine. It was so good to hear your voice today and to connect in a lengthy phone call. I’m glad that the special overseas call option has finally kicked in on T-Mobile. I’m really excited for you on your upcoming high school reunion. Don’t worry, you’ll have a great time connecting!
We leave for the Camino tomorrow morning, but more on that in a bit.
I had not intended to do a great deal of walking today but the weather was nice and there were opportunities to take in some city sites which required walking. Over 10 km in all. This letter will give some highlights, not a great deal of depth, but of course pictures.
We wandered the area where you and I stayed in 2018. You may recall it’s a university area and there are students strolling about wearing black capes. Sorry, but no pictures of them. There’s a bookstore, which is not unusual in a college neighborhood, but what is unusual is that this is the bookstore where are J. K. Rowling spent many hours drinking coffee and constructed her story work for the Harry Potter series.
The bookstore is not particularly large or noteworthy from the outside, yet hundreds of people lineup here every day (adults no less!) and stand in line for the opportunity to visit the store. As we approached the area the throng of people extended in a line one block long, and doubled back another full block.
They each pay €5 admission which is credited against any purchase. People are not admitted until a similar number of people have exited. It’s crazy! I didn’t go in.
The neighborhood, caped students, and architecture apparently provided her with some inspiration.
Nearby was the tall stone tower that I again missed the opportunity to climb. This certainly guarantees us another visit to Puerto!
Not far from there was another unusual store, this one dedicated to the sale of canned sardines and various other similarly canned seafood items.
They are really not intended for eating but as gifts and for collecting. One whole wall was sardine cans with a year emblazoned on the front, 1916 through the present. They are “birthday sardines!“ The sales lady was careful to explain that the cans say something about the depicted year, but the sardines are fresh packed. How many people do you know that collect sardines? Yea, me neither.
We visited a pair of unusual churches. They are both Catholic and of similar design. They were built 100 years apart, in the 17th and 18th centuries respectively.
There was some problem with having the church is actually touch so a “hidden house“ was constructed to separate them. The house is approximately 10 feet wide and five stories tall. It is represented as the narrowest house in Porto, somewhat reminiscent of the canal houses that you and I have seen in Amsterdam.
Why two similar churches were located so close to each other? I don’t know.
We toured the churches and saw the opulent robes, gilded altars, religious articles, and curiously enough birthing chairs!
They look like something out of the middle ages (probably because that’s where the design originates). I thought they were toilets for the bishops, but was disabused of the notion upon reading the storyboard.
There were catacombs beneath the church where approximately 400 religious had been buried over the course of a many years. No pictures were allowed. There were bones, and the visible remains of one saintly woman who died in the 1700s. Apparently, resting in peace is not actually an option for this one who lived a good life.
By the way, religious men who were buried in the crypt (Priests and Brothers) were interred a matter of right. Religious women (Nuns), had to pay with money for the privilege during life.
There were a variety of relics on display, including a minuscule splinter represented as a piece of the “true cross“. It even had a “certificate of authenticity” signed by an Italian bishop in the 1600s. I’ve heard it is said that one could built a house with all of the pieces of the “true cross“ if they were only gathered together. I wonder how much the church paid for that splinter?
Outside of the churches there were the occasional beggar, and I saw a few troubled people sleeping in doorways over the course of the day.
I found it troubling to see such wealth and power on display by heads of a church founded on Christ’s teachings.
OK, I’m going to step down off of my soapbox.
Later in the afternoon we took in a 3 hour street art walking tour presented by an archeologist born and raised in Porto. It was fascinating and “free“ with donations requested. It is impossible for me to set out in this letter out all of the information we were provided.
Highlights: The tile work that is found throughout Porto is considered street art. It is against the law to paint heritage surfaces, but there is a website that tells artists where owners throughout the city have designated parts of their property as open for art. “Paper art” is legal anywhere, because it’s easily removed. “Tagging“, which we call graffiti, is vandalism, not art. Here are some images:
This tall building in the background is an interesting assembly of art tiles.
The artist distributed blank tiles throughout the art community, inviting the other artists to apply their own images. The original artist then assembled these into a monumental collage The words that you can see in the center mean, “Who are you Porto?” I hope that the picture resolution is sufficient that you can focus in and see some of the individual pieces.
It’s not a particularly pleasant neighborhood, being located across the street from the train station. There were two small “hole in the wall“ restaurants. Our tour guide mentioned them as highly recommended, frequented by locals, cheap, and featuring authentic Portuguese cuisine. We returned there after struggling to work out our baggage transfer arrangements and enjoyed a terrific dinner and full bottle of wine. I had a huge roasted cod dinner and Kris enjoyed a similar sardine entree. The entire bill was €31, which works out to less than $30!
About the baggage transfer: We found a company that will transport the bags and is “high-tech“. Instead of leaving a little envelopes with instructions and money attached to the bag, one registers and provides all of the info and payment online. The company then sends an email with a QR code that is to be printed and attached to the bags. It’s a great concept, provided you have a printer. The hostel has a printer, the printer didn’t have ink. After some significant stressing out, a phone call with the transfer company it got worked out. I have to take a photograph of the bags in the morning and emailed it to company.
Enough for now. This turned out a lot longer than I expected which is probably a good thing. I do not know what the Internet situation will be tomorrow.
Yesterday was a travel day. The train ride met my expectations, clean, comfortable, and reasonably fast.
However, there was a 30 minute delay which meant that I missed the short suburban connecting train and had to wait on the platform 45 minutes for the next one. It really wasn’t a problem because it still meant that my arrival at the hostel was shortly before check-in time.
When I arrived and was ready to check in the young lady at reception indicated there was a problem. My room had not been vacated and they could not locate the delinquent occupants. They couldn’t just remove their things, so as an accommodation I was given a larger room that shared the bath with only one other room instead of 8 rooms. I was certainly good with that!
The hostel is incredible. Still not a hotel since I share a bathroom (what a bathroom!).
There is no sink in the room which is kind of annoying. The hostel is located inside the train station so there’s a bit of noise. I’m located on the third floor and each floor is about 20 feet high.
There are 75 steps down to get to the lobby, but there is an elevator. My room is huge with a 20 foot high ceiling. My room has a living area down below, and a sleeping/loft area above. Pictures will do a better job of explaining the nature of this place.
A common area is located on the fourth floor which is actually the attic of the train station. There is a lounge, bar, and kitchen area where breakfast is served in the morning.
It’s a typical continental breakfast of muesli, hard rolls, yogurt, meats and cheeses. The coffee smells wonderful but I’ve passed on it simply because I don’t want to make the tremors any worse.
I met up with Kris and we began pouring over the Camino guide to plan the first few days. We enjoyed a late afternoon/evening on the waterfront of the Douro River which presented some remarkable picture opportunities. I will let the images speak for themselves.
Daytime is one thing, but the beauty really comes out at night! I returned my hostel through some dark passages which started to feel a bit “dicey”.
The São Bento train station where the hostel is located, dates to the mid 1800’s and features remarkable “murals“ that are made from porcelain tiles. It’s quite stunning. The station is not very large and is in the heart of the old city. I am just a few blocks from the river.
I’m going to do a bit of wandering and sightseeing today. I had considered going to the post office to ship some items back to you and lighten my pack, however I’ve decided that I will transport my bag between lodgings, at least for now.
“Talk” to you later!
I love you. Peter
PS. (Of course!) it appears that folks who subscribe to my posts with Gmail addresses are not receiving the links. I surmise that I may be tagged a “spammer“ because of the number of recipients. It’s something I need to address, but not today. There are better things to do! Hugs to the kids and grandkids.
Yesterday’s parting was painful! Layer upon layer of longing, uncertainty, and anxiety. Thankfully, the flight was without incident, save for a bit of turbulence over the Atlantic. I have lost count of the number of flights that I’ve taken, yet there remains for me something magical in seeing the Earth, it’s places, and it’s people reduced to specks and points of light.
Leaving Boston
Arriving in Lisbon
Unlike past flights crossing “the pond“ I slept most of the way thanks to earplugs and an eye mask. Of course, not having you to talk with might have had something to do with it.
Departure from Boston was 11:30 PM eastern time, and we arrived in Lisbon at 10:30 AM. I am 6 time zones from you. About an hour before boarding I happened to look at Facebook and saw that Garry and Kathleen Clifford were at the Boston airport boarding a plane for their home in Glasgow Scotland, via Dublin. They were in the same terminal! Garry reached out today and expressed his regret that we had missed meeting. Perhaps next spring when you and I are walking Hadrian’s Wall in England we can connect. Glasgow is only about a 90 minute drive to the north.
Lisbon airport was extremely busy, but very well organized. I was in a line for a taxi that stretched at least 200 feet yet it only took me about 10 minutes to get a cab. €23 and 15 minutes saw me to the door of my hostel, The Living Lounge.
It is located in the heart of the old city, just a couple of blocks from the waterfront and grand Plaza. My room is simple, the bathroom is down the hall, but it served up a “full-bore” hot water shower that was most welcome after hours in a crowded plane.
The lobby/lounge area is charming and they feature a multi-course dinner every evening for only €15. I signed up for tonight.
I repacked my backpack and in spite of it weighing 25 pounds it is well-balanced and not “overstuffed“. Part of that weight consists of the electronics and camera stuff that allow me to make these posts. It is likely that I will be transporting my pack over the course of at least part of the Camino. I don’t feel compelled to carry it “every step of the way“… Been there and done that.
I’m certain that once you see these pictures of the Plaza, Cathedral, and street scenes in the vicinity, you will remember our visit here in 2018. I really think that we should plan a trip to Lisbon and spend not less than a week here before heading elsewhere.
The weather is spectacular today and the waterfront beautiful. Sailboats, tourists, the 100+ year old trolleys, street performers, and even a random submarine!
I climbed to the top of the main monument and was rewarded with a panoramic view. I even got to see the workmen servicing the clock tower mechanism.
I stopped in a shop and took away a “Bacalhau”. It’s kind of a fried ball-like sandwich made from dried salted cod, cheese, and other ingredients. It’s the only real meal I’ve had yet today but it was wonderful! You would’ve hated it.
The ingredients
The “sandwiches”
Language has not been a problem. I spent most of the afternoon wandering about and I have yet to really “connect“ with anyone. Our “sister”, Kris, flew into Porto today and has booked an apartment in the vicinity of my accommodations. In spite of the fact that she has been hiking England, Scotland, and France over the past 3 months, she says she’s not yet ready to return to Denver. We’re going to talk on Sunday about whether she might accompany me on part or all of my walk. She has a friend who lives on the coast of Spain and she may elect to stay there. This has got to be at least the 10th Camino for Kris. She has forwarded me a list of lodgings on the trail that she has stayed at in the past, both recommended and to be avoided.
I made it to the 12th Century Cathedral and secured my credential, complete with a stamp for Lisbon. I lit a candle (the lowest on the right), said a prayer… and then quickly ducked to avoid any random lightning strikes. None came.
Dinner was wonderful! I shared table with five other people, three young ladies from Italy, and two gentlemen, one a German/Italian and the other (seated to my right) a Brazilian environment scientist now living in the Czech Republic. €15 bought each of us a home-cooked Portuguese feast. I think you would’ve probably passed on the salt fish. Both gentlemen spoke fluent German so I got a little practice in.
A highly styled chocolate mousse.
Beyond breakfast at the hostel I don’t have any real plan for tomorrow other than to wander the streets of this wonderful city. Until then, Sleep well!
Love You, Me.
PS. Many of you who are reading “over our shoulders” know that Kris has been a part of our history for over nine years. For those who do not: We met Kris in Spain while walking the Camino in 2013. She joined us for the last five days and a deep friendship then took root. Kris and her husband, Dennis, have been guests in our home, and we have been guests in their home. In 2018 while Christine and I were in the Netherlands, Kris and Dennis were hiking cliff trails on Scotland’s Isle of Skye. It was there that Dennis tragically fell from the trail, plunging to his death on the shore below.
In 2019 Kris spent a week with us aboard the canal boat we piloted in England, and she plans to reprise that with us in 2023. She has indeed become “our sister”.
I am one hour from my 24 hour online check-in with Delta. Departure for the first leg of my trip is tomorrow, but I am timing this letter to arrive in your email-box while I am somewhere over the Atlantic and well on my way to Lisbon.
At this moment I am a torrent of emotions; anxiety, excitement, anticipation… I apologize if I have been shorts with you as this day drew nearer. I’ve imperfectly tried to suppress my tendency to become annoying at partings. You have known this in me for over 48 years, and to your credit you accept this as what conspires to define “me”.
Talking to you this way feels odd, but also familiar. I had forgotten that 47 years ago I sent you daily letters while I was off solo camping and backpacking in Colorado. You gave me another new insight into our history when you revealed yesterday that you still have those letters. Someday I will have to see what the 23 year old me revealed to you. I don’t think we have ever since shared in writing our thoughts to each other.
35 days is not so long to be apart, yet today it looms before me like an impenetrable wall of time. I need to focus on the moment and not “count the days”. I need to embrace my journey and not my destination.
I promise that I will listen to my body. I will also listen to my spirit. I will be open to taking alternate paths, making decisions in the context of the day and not be driven by my expectations. Although I have largely abandoned the practice of religion, I intend to use my faith roots as the language to embrace and appreciate the centuries of worshipers and places of worship that my footsteps will mirror.
I already miss you, even though you are at the other end of the house, not knowing that I am “speaking to you” now with my fingers. My bag is packed and remains heavier than I would like. So it is with my heart. Perhaps the later will ease a bit when I land and become preoccupied with adapting to Portugal.
Love to you, our children, and our grandchildren. Peter
