I left rates before sunrise. The albergue was full of people but I felt alone, lost as usual. I snacked on crackers and cheese watching the sunrise. An early morning fog clung to the eucalyptus trees. The morning light, golden and soft, filled the space with a radiating glow. Birds chirped and chortled, welcoming the day. I relaxed and just walked, letting go of any thoughts. I really didn’t feel like walking today. I felt heavy and sluggish, putting one foot in front of the other.
I arrived in Barcelos mid-morning, crossing the bridge in the beautiful historic part of town. Shops bustled with patrons and the large square opened up to an impressive cathedral. Families sat, children ran and played. The sun warmed the sand-colored stones of buildings and pavement. It took me a moment to realize that I was grinning like a madman. Sometimes you have to stop thinking and live in the moment. I sat at a cafe for a croissant and orange juice, before hefting my pack to continue.
I walked into Tamal mid-afternoon and found the albergue. It was a modern two-story building with wall-to-wall glass on the bottom floor, and a great yard to spend a few hours relaxing. It was too early to check in. The hospitalero directed me to a bar a short walk away where I ordered a coke and sandwich, relaxing on the simple red plastic chair, a light breeze the perfect accompaniment to a warm sun.
In the evening, thunder rumbled, turning the sky steel grey. I sat outside in the courtyard, bare feet enjoying the cool of the thick green grass, eating the rest of my supplies: tomato, cheese, and rice crackers. I chatted with other pilgrims. The conversions on the Portuguese Way are different to those on the Frances. Here no one asks you why you are walking. I think it is because most people leave from Porto and have maybe done the Frances before, and they don’t have the time or need for a mental reset that the draws them to walk the Frances in the first place. Here, most pilgrims I spoke to just want to recapture some of the Camino spirit they experienced before. For me, however, my annual Camino is much cheaper and more effective than therapy.
Finally, fat raindrops fell. Thunder boomed overhead. Lighting flashed violently. The storm moved past quickly; more bark than bite, with just a dusting of rain. In its wake, the storm had split the sky open leaving the most beautiful colors I’ve ever seen. Stretched above me, all the way to the horizon, the sky was the color of a ripe split red plum. I watched the clouds move through the sky, drifting, changing colors, like dye in water. I was mesmerized. I didn’t need a reason to walk, or a purpose to feel that I should be here. All I needed was this moment.
