My third Elvis sighting, this time via a poster on a café wall in the middle of nowhere when we stopped for a sandwich (bocadillo). I don’t understand it. Sure I’ve been to Graceland but that was years ago, when I was visiting Nashville. So why now? And, why? While I can’t answer those questions I do find it appropriate that he would appear in devout countries where divine sightings are common. I laughed loudly upon seeing the poster, and explained to the two young German guys sitting at a table how I’ve been repeatedly seeing Elvis. Elvis? one guy asked up at me, an eyebrow raised. The original Beiber I wanted to exclaim, but they couldn’t have cared less. Unbelievers.
This morning we left our hotel at 7:30 in damp darkness and heavy fog. Our footsteps thudded on the cobblestones in the empty streets, making the passage by ancient cathedrals and religious statues a little creepy. Once inside a warm, well-lit cafe (“Boby Bar Cafe”) we downed cafe con leche and croissants and then started the 30 km journey down the highway.
Lonesome highway
Goin’ down the road
This cross was placed here in memory of a pilgrim who died upon his return from Santiago in the 13th century.
There was no plaque on this lady so I’ve named her The Camino Widow. She waits at home for her cherished to return from his Camino.
After this pretty, wooded area we followed arrows through an industrial area. It didn’t smell especially pleasant but it wasn’t nearly as terrible as the description in the guidebook.
On the other side of the industrial area we stopped at a large supermercado and bought groceries for lunch. We always lose an hour going onto those places and drooling over all the foods we desire but can’t carry or cook. A loaf of bread, a slab of interesting looking cheese, and a tomato are good choices as they can be carried in our stomachs. We made an exception for bulk candy and I filled a bag with the best Haribo jujubes money can buy. It made up half the total grocery bill and was worth every penny when we needed a high fructose corn syrup motivation boost to continue walking in the hot afternoon.
Eventually we found the small hotel we’d been looking for. While walking to our room we met a woman who told us she was from Canada. When we said we hailed from Ottawa, a second woman showed and suddenly we were surrounded by Québécoise! The two had been Facetiming with a woman in Quebec, and they turned the screen toward us so that she could chat to us in French as well.
Around 7:30 we went to the only restaurant and were told – with a finger wag – that there would be no food served until 9:00. Demoralized, we returned to our room. My book of crosswords came in handy.
Walking the Portuguese Way 