I left Golega feeling lethargic. My legs were heavy, each step like stone. The sun was yet to rise, and somehow I got lost in the streets of Golega. It’s a pretty small town, with long straight streets. How did I manage that? I chalk it up to Camino brain and too much sun. Oh well, I plodded on.
I followed the two Spanish women I had been leapfrogging for the past few days. We stopped at about 8am in a small town for a simple breakfast of coffee and croissants. I was in my head today, just watching the bottom of my coffee cup. It’s one thing you have to be prepared for in any long hike - the moments of introspection and the mental game. Your brain gives out long before your body does.
I returned by coffee cup to the counter, thanked the proprietor and headed out, quickly leaving the town and into a trail surrounded by eucalyptus trees. The scent brought me home, to Australia. I let my mind wander walking on autopilot until I reached Grou. Grou, like so many of these ancient towns was perched atop a hill. The climb was steep, but short. I found solace in another cafe. Finally, this did the trick. Some of my mojo was coming back. I checked my map. I only had about 10km to go. I can do it.
The final leg went by fast, perhaps 2 hours since I left Grou. Before I knew it, I was passing the train station in Tomar. I’d pounded the road for the majority of the day. That seemed the norm on this camino. It’s definitely more road walking than the Frances, and significantly more than the Via Podiensis. I check into the Hostel Tomar, paying $8 for the night. The hostel was fantastic, one of the best I have ever stayed in. It was clean, modern and all the walls were covered with writings, and drawings left by other travelers. I ran my fingers over endless stories, getting a glimpse into everyone’s experiences.
I had a quick shower before heading out to explore. Tomar was one of the towns I was most looking forward to visiting. It was here, perched high above the town was a majestic caste, the seat of the Knights Templar for hundreds of years. I found a hamburger restaurant near the town square, devouring my meal. I didn’t realize how hungry I was. All I had eaten for the day was a croissant in the morning and some tomatoes and crackers on the trail. I paid my bill, and headed towards the castle.
The walk to the castle was steep, winding its way around the hill. Tourists puffed and wheezed, sweating until the hot sun. I, now with a full belly, and about 150km of walking under my feet, felt strong, especially without the weight of my pack. I powered up the hill, paid my entrance fee and explored for hours.
The castle was designed as a cloister, but in traditional Templar fashion felt more like a military base with towering walls and buttresses. At the center of the complex lay the stunning octagonal chapel. The ceiling towered above, with the entire thing covered in intricate gold carvings and spectacular paintings. The photos simply did not do it justice.
At about 16:30, I left the castle and returned to the Hostel. I chatted with Claudio and Agata. I had barely spoken to Agata until now. She came from Bologna, Italy. Bologna was one of the cities I had wanted to visit for many years. I peppered her with questions about the town, her life, and experience so far. Pretty reserved and obviously figuring out some of her personal demons, she, like so many Italians I had met, always had time for community, dinner, and conversation. When the topic of dinner came up, Agata, Claudia and two other Italians, whom I still couldn’t remember their names, immediately set out looking for food. Me, I’d had enough of people for the day, and needed some time just to relax.
I checked my guidebook. Tomorrow’s hike is another 30km day, with a few morning stops before what looks like a long 20km stretch with little to no facilities. That’s definitely one thing that I have found unique about the Camino Frances, vs. another other long distance hike I have down. You can start much slower on the Frances, clocking in 20km days, or shorter if you want, until you get your legs under you. So far, on the Camino Portuguese, every day, except one was a 30km+ with a lot of road walking. I headed downstairs buying some maize cakes , canned sardines, and tomatoes. All is good in the world. I’m simply living.