Yesterday was a hard day. All I wanted to do was be invisible. I spent the entire afternoon in introspection. In the evening, I shared a meal with the Italians. I needed to laugh, to let go, and feel part of something - even if it was for just a short while.
Today, I left the albergue with Claudio. It was 6:15, the sun fighting with the fog. The air was fresh, with a hint of eucalyptus caught in the moisture. We followed the road out of Agueda before being swallowed up by nature and trees. We stopped in a tiny village for a coffee break.
Before long, we were joined by another Italian pilgrim. He smiled seeing us, backpacks propped on the wall. Sticking out of his pack was a huge signpost emblazoned with the word “Santiago”. Apparently he had found it near the trail. We laughed as our new companion, Stefano, retold the story of his sign and the comments from locals along the trail. We sipped coffee, eating sweet dark grapes from a market stand outside. A few posed photos later, we packed our gear, lifted our packs, the familiar weight on my back comforting, and headed out.
The remainder of the day passed by in a blur. We passed through groves of eucalyptus, ancient stone walls covered in moss, fields of cows with the rich scent of freshly tilled earth, and the occasional interstate byway where cars whizzed by, like creatures from another world. Our world was small. It was simple. And it was free. My spirit soared with the experience. I felt no pain, no stress, no anxiety. I felt at home.
Before I knew it, we arrived at Albergue de Nova. It was just past 13:30. The albergue did not open until 15:00. Thankfully, the albergue had a beautiful courtyard with plastic chairs, shade, and most importantly, a hammock. I removed my shoes and socks, wiggled my toes in the cool grass, and jumped into the hammock, melting into it.
New voices woke me. I must have drifted off. I rolled out of the hammock like a burrito, plopping onto the ground. I waved to the newcomers, two women, one from Spain, and the other from France. They had been studying abroad in Lisbon, one having just graduated as a doctor, the other, a year away. They had fallen in love with Portugal and wanted to walk the Camino as a way to unwind from the demands of medical school, and see the less-traveled parts of Portugal. Like so many Europeans, I was impressed their fluidity of languages, seamlessly switching between Portuguese, French, and Spanish. Perhaps it is my obsession with travel, but I love languages. They fill me with a sense of adventure, and places yet to be explored.
We chatted for hours. It was great to have some new faces. Unlike the Camino Frances, the Camino Portuguese has been much less crowded. Aside from the core trail family of the Italians, I have seen few other pilgrims walking from Lisbon. I heard this will change after Porto. It still won’t be as busy as the Frances, but I am expecting a lot of new faces. For now, however, the faces smiling back at me, are just perfect.