Pontevedra to Caldas de Reis Day 4

This post was first published in 2023

September 18, 2022:

Today our 23-km walk started outside Hotel Avenida in Pontevedra twenty minutes earlier than usual. The air felt cool and crisp as we took a few selfies in front of the hotel. Shortly after, just before nine, we crossed a massive bridge. Along with my group of six, many pedestrians carrying backpacks marched across the tiled span like busy ants with purpose; another new day had begun for the pilgrims on the Camino de Santiago. My friends and I were now into our 7th day together since we started out in Porto–4th day since Baiona where our Camino officially kicked off.

The morning sun greeted us with a splash of light through fluffy white clouds and lit up the entire sky, while the water reflected back bluer than blue. John snapped a few pictures here which is how I can recall that spectacular scene. With the passage of time, my memory would have faded but for the pictures my walking buddies and I took along the way.

Carla wore a new hat this morning, a gift she received the day before. She had befriended two young ladies, pilgrims like us. Their friend in Vancouver had made these floppy hats from blue denim-like material with bold patterns depicting the Camino symbols… yellow arrows, blue and yellow shells and the sun’s rays. One of the ladies for whom the hat was made couldn’t come. The two women who did, struck up a conversation with Carla and gave her the spare hat. She was tickled and honoured by their gesture and wore the hat for the rest of the trip. We ran into these two ladies later in the morning when we stopped at a cafe. The trio, Carla and her newly adopted “Camino sisters” posed with their hats.

Along the way we had some playful moments taking pictures of ourselves in silly poses. Briefly, that got Giulia’s mind off the painful blisters in her toes. She’d been wearing toe sleeves strategically, but they didn’t prevent the blisters from developing and making her walk a living hell. She changed shoes and socks halfway each day, but that only provided temporary relief. At one point on our last day of walking, her pain became so unbearable that even commiserating with her seemed offensive as nothing could make it go away except to stop walking… and that was an unthinkable option as she’d flown all the way from Canada to Spain for this Camino. So, we resorted to distracting tactics that kept us moving forward and not dwell too much on the blisters.

Meanwhile, Tom and Karen kept a brisk pace and we soon lost sight of them. Tom, who also had blisters, said they only hurt when he stopped walking. Luckily for him he seemed to have grown blisters that cooperated with his forward momentum! So when the four of us arrived at our hotel in Caldas de Reis around 3 PM, they were already relaxing with a beer or something chilled.

That evening when the group met up to explore the town, disaster almost sidelined me. It could have ended my Camino, but for my iPhone and my recently acquired agility. Normally I don’t walk and text or engage unnecessarily with my phone, and I swear I wasn’t–ahem–distracted. Just for one quick moment I glanced at the screen and that was the moment I stepped on a slight dip in the pavement. Before I could yell, “F#*k” the floor met my face inches away. My body and the pavement became close friends for what seemed like a lifetime, and then my friends rushed to help me.

Damage assessment: Bruised ego… yup, knee… red welts but no oozing blood, bones… no sharp pain and seemed intact, phone…  scratches on the screen but otherwise still chugging along. I believe my phone took the brunt of my fall because I refused to let it go, and it got scratched where my palm landed. Maybe hunger pangs had something to do with my lack of mental focus too. In any case, the incident made for a good story which got better with each telling, and Giulia loves to regale me with her version of my GREAT fall.

As I’d mentioned in one of the earlier blog posts, the restaurants in this part of Spain don’t start serving dinner until around 8 or 8:30. We always worked up huge appetites and hoped we’d find a restaurant that could accommodate us earlier… wishful thinking. Carla had a craving for Spanish omelette ever since we passed a group of French Canadian pilgrims picnicking in the trails that afternoon. Their guide had come up to us with a plate and offered us Spanish omelette, but we had declined. Hmm… in hindsight maybe I should have taken a piece; I might have been more alert and thwarted the pavement’s overtures of false friendship. Anyway, it was our turn to dig into the potato-filled eggs now and yes, it hit the spot exactly where it was meant. And my main course satiated whatever hunger pangs remained.

Our day didn’t end right after dinner. You can’t go to Caldas de Reis and not visit one of the “famed” thermal spas. One such pool was located near our hotel. On our way back, all six of us slid over the ledge and dunked our bare feet into the warm water. Imagine your tired feet chiding you all day and now you hear them say, “Have we died and gone to heaven?” When we finally left the pool, one of my friends called out to a group still hanging around, “Buenos dias.” Someone yelled back in the dark, “Not buenos dias, buenas noches.” Ah, you live and learn. Adiós, hasta la vista.