Distance: 35.9km (346.9km), time spent: 10:52.
Weather: Heavy fog and a light drizzle, then sunny.
With all the days so far on the Camino being warm and sunny, with degrees almost always up in the higher thirties, the weather outside this morning comes as a surprise. Outside there is a dense fog surrounding the albergue and area around. Ciaran is still asleep when I leave, Alex and Chiara has already left, at what time I do not know. Before I went, I had a small breakfast that I bought with me from the supermarket yesterday.
Dark and misty when leaving Águeda in the morning.
To return to the Camino, I have to backtrack a little. The hostess at Albergue Santo António had recommended me to follow the N1 road instead, but I am glad that I did not to listen to her. I had a mysterious and quiet walk through the heavy fog, with a light drizzle in the air. Every sound gets so muffled when there is fog, close things seems so far away. Places and things come and go. Even the industrial area I go past seems to fade into the mist. Crossing the N1, I find a small café, and time for my morning café com leite. Afterwards, I meet Guus who had followed the N1. She had not enjoyed the walk next to the road, feeling unsafe as cars passed by her not knowng if they would see her in the dark and fog.
Mourisca do Vouga, once a stately mansion called a Casa Brasileiro.
We pass into Mourisca do Vouga. The fog makes justice to this village. I doubt you could find a more proper setting for the abandonded, lost and old stately mansions that you walk past here. As if the fog has drawn out all the life of the buildings. These mansions are Casas Brasileiras built in the 19-20th century by returning emigrants. The other buildings in the village is just as worn and empty like, giving it a feeling of being a ghost town. In some places only the facade is still standing, retaken by vegetation. At the end of the village, a ghostly sun is barely visible through the clouds.
Lost mansion in Mourisca do Vouga.
On the descent towards Ponte Velha de Marnel, I spot a pilgrim coming from a direction not on the Camino. Believing her to have gone the wrong way, I stop and wait, pointing towards the path as she comes closer. As she comes closer, she smiles and waves back at me, then pointing towards where I came from. She has not gone the wrong way, and is also going in the opposite direction. I feel foolish.
A ghostly sun.
Ponte Velha de Marnel was something I had looked forward to today, an old bridge with five arches dating from the 16th century. With the clouds barely leaving the ground, the place is surrounded by a mysterious atmosphere. I love it, even though I had hoped to be here on a clear and sunny day. Only faint outlines of the white church at the top of the hill behind is visible. There is two small islets out in the river (Marnel), that is connected with small wooden bridges. On the islets, there is a small recreational area with benches, and views of the five-arched bridge. I spend some time at the area, giving the haze some time to lift a little, with the white church and some blue sky becoming visible at the back. Up at the white church, I believe I see Ciaran walking through the mist on top of the Ponte Velha de Marnel.
Recreational park with the four of the five arches of the Ponte Velha de Marnel visible.
From the old bridge the Camino changes to go on a new bridge, which is so long that I cannot see the other end through the clouds. It just disappears into grey nothingness, with cars and bikes suddenly appearing out of it. A small village lies underneath the bridge and vanishes as I move forward, passing over the Rio Vouga on the way. Despite walking clouds to the traffic, although with a barrier between, it was a cool walk across the bridge.
Ponte Velha de Marnel.
Then, on the way to Lameiro and Serém, the clouds disperses and vanish. A blue sky and a warm sun shines in my face. I stop for a coffee in Casa Leonel in Serem, meeting two pilgrims from Israel there that I had seen earlier today. On the wall there is a collage with photos of pilgrims, the hostess takes a picture of every pilgrim that visits the café, so I pose for a photo too. Afterwards, the Camino enters another eucalyptus forest, on a broad gravel track this time, which I follow almost all the way to Albergaria-a-Velha.
A long bridge into nothingness.
A village vanishing into the fog as I pass over the bridge.
I go looking around Albergaria-a-Velha at bit, but most of all, I go looking around for a place to eat. There is tiny yellow tram or train going through the small town that I am curious about. The name of the town originates from a request by Dona Teresa, the mother of the first king of Portugal, that an inn should be built here for the pilgrims (and the poor and sick). I eat a tosta mixta in a café and then stumble upon Ciaran.
In Albergaria-a-Velha, notice the small little tram.
A series of quite pleasant forest walks ensues, where some of the eucalyptus trees stands such in rows that I believe them to be planted. We arrive at the statue of Nossa Senhora do Socorro, whereafter I lure myself up into the Parque do Monte da Senhora do Socorro above. I have spotted a tower of some sort, and want to go check it out. I believe it to be a fire watch tower, but maybe it is something else (as it is in a park). I meet a person who tells me that I can climb up into the tower, but of course he is wrong. It is a fire watch tower, and the hatch to it is closed. I could have told myself so.
Eucalyptus.
At Albergaria-a-Nova, Ciaran is stopping for the day at the albergue there. Alex, Chiara and Guus is already there. It looks like a nice place. I, on the other hand, has decided to move on. It is a little bit of a difficult choice, but in some ways it is logical. First, it is too early to stop walking for the day. Second, I want to have an extra day in Porto, but Ciaran has said he will just spend one night there. So by walking a little longer today and tomorrow, I can have my zero day in Porto and meet up with Ciaran again afterwards. I aim to go to Oliveira de Azeméis, some 13k away.
Parque do Monte da Senhora do Socorro.
Having said goodbye to the others, I move on. Some time later, the Camino takes an interesting turn, by going next to some railroad tracks. I wonder if they are operational or not, the path goes dangerously close to the tracks at some point. They look overgrown, so I am sure no train will come rushing past me.
After Albergaria-a-Nova the Camino goes next to some abandoned railroad tracks.
It is all blue and sunny now, so the heat is back. I stop for a cerveja in Pinheiro da Bemposta, who also sport some curious toy dolls at display. When I pass through Bemposta, the Camino has gained a little elevation and from the way I can see the sea in the distance. After all the days walking in the inland, it is nice to see the water. It is a reminder that I need to decide whether to go the central route or the coastal route when I have reached Porto.
Toy dolls resting on a balcony in Pinheiro da Bemposta.
Later, after having done a crossing of a extremely busy road, I walk past a house when I hear a voice inviting me in. I then get offered coffee and some bread from the old lady living in the house. It appear that this kind of thing, resembling the osettai in Japan, is more common here in Portugal than in Spain. I am truly grateful. We talk a little bit, in broken Portuguese, but it gets better when her son comes and can translate. After what has been a great day so far, my mood is now even better.
A shrine in the wall at Bemposta.
Although my mood is great, I still feel the length of the day now. It has gotten warmer and that has taken its price. I walk over the 18th century bridge Ponte do Senhor da Pedra with an attached shrine and prepare for the final few kilometres into Oliveira de Azeméis. I am tired when I arrive in the town. Knowing that pilgrims are allowed to stay at the bombeiros (fire station) here in Portugal, I had hoped to experience that today, but when I feel so tired and unknowingly stands outside the Hotel Dighton, I surrender. Not knowing where the bombeiros actually are located, but believing it to be a little outside the centre, I take my backpack and goes comfortable. I have to wait a little, but get a room with a pilgrim discount.
Ponte do Senhor da Pedra.
After having a shower, I go out to find a place to sit down and rest at. I walked past the perfect place. Close by was a café called Hygge, named after a Norwegian word that there really is not a direct translation for. It is sort of a Norwegian (and Danish) description of when we want to spend some time together or alone, having a quiet, pleasant and cosy time. The owner had found the word in a Norwegian novel. My legs are tired, I sit down for a beer and relax (jeg hygger meg).
Câmara Municipal de Oliveira de Azeméis (town hall).
Going for dinner is another affair, with finding a place difficult. With difficult, I do not mean actually finding a place, but finding a place where there are other people eating too. I believe it is too early, that people here usually go out later when they eat, but I am hungry now. I get to see a little bit of the town though, and in the end I find a place where there are many other people, strangely enough. It looks like a mix between a standard Portuguese café and a fast food joint. Easy food today, I just go for a pizza.
Igreja Matrix in Oliveira de Azeméis.
The rest of the evening, I spend in my hotel room, which I now feel thankful for. I just sit down in the chair in the room and relax, but I am close to falling asleep ever so often, so it does not take long before I go to bed. Quite the wondrous walk today, from the misty walk past abandonded mansions, through the dreamy world of the Marnel bridge, sunny eucalyptus forests, alongside unused railroad tracks and then a walk with a view of the sea.
Café Hygge.
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