Distance: 31.9km (224.7km), time spent: 9:05.
Weather: Hot, clear blue sky.
On this morning everything goes astray. I cannot recall having fumbled so much on any of my walks before. One of the things I manage to do is to dislocate the hose of my camelbak, spilling water all over the place, fortunately I was in the kitchen. I spend so much time that Ciaran has left a long time ago when I finally start walking. The Italian couple, Alex and Chiara, left early a long time ago. It does not get any better when the street lights dies on me and goes dark when I walk out of Alvaiázere, leaving me stranded in pitch black. Putting on my headlamp, I do not feel very positively inclined today. Little did I know then that this should be the best day on the whole Camino.
A dilapidated farm passed by on the way up to Vendas from Alvaiázere.
Feeling strangely alone, I begin the ascent up towards Vendas in the morning light, passing by barking dogs in chains. It is a little bit of a climb up to Vendas, so when I arrive, I try to find a good lookout point to get a view back, but to no avail. Something or someone must be watching over me, for when leaving Vendas, the sun makes its arrival on the scene and it is wonderful. Between old farm houses, orchards and fields, warm red rays lights up my walk, burning away my low mood. I trample through a field to find a spot to watch the landscape below with the fiery horizon behind, savouring the moment.
The sunrise painting the scenery in light.
Sunrise from Vendas.
My eyes are still glowing red from the sunrise when I walk on this tranquil road, passing over the highest point before starting the walk down towards Ansião. Definetely more undulating, I can see some defining hills in the distance. The first part of the descent goes on a paved road, but lower down the Camino leaves it for a pleasant gravel track that goes to a small hamlet covered in blue flowers.
Blue flowers in a small hamlet.
From the flowery hamlet, the rest of the descent is absolutely wonderful, going on what is easily the best footpath so far on the Camino. Here I walk next to small stony walls next to the path, with the stones partly green from all the moss growing on them. The walk is both open and covered by the branches of small trees, sprinkled with the light from the morning sun. If most of the Camino Portugués had been like this, it would make for a stunning Camino. The footpath gets broader after passing by another little hamlet, but then also becomes more open with views of the surrounding area.
Morning sun shines through a tree on the lovely footpath down to Ansião.
The Camino goes on a wonderful footpath.
With the hope that the scenery from the descent will continue afterwards, I reach Ansião. Ciaran is as expected already here, although I believed he would have left already and gotten farther. The sun is warming, the time is perfect for a café com leite and a more filling breakfast, everything that also feels at home on a Camino. Except one thing. Where are all the pilgrims? Wait, there are actually two other pilgrims appearing, but they just walks straight past and pays no heed to us. Ansião otherwise looks like a pleasant place. Ciaran leaves before me. On the way out of the small town, the Camino crosses the Rio Nabão on the Ponte da Cal.
A tree guardian over the path.
There is just a short stretch of civilized walk, before the Camino again is surrounded by the nature. Not on a footpath this time, but still going through a lush woodland. This is the first day on this Camino where it appear that I walk more in nature than through farmland and villages, which I find really satisfying. After a short visit by a petrol station and café on the Camino (at the strangely named Venda do Brasil), there is a wonderful short stretch going underneath gnarled trees and on a likewise gnarled path.
Inside the Igreja Paroquial in Ansião.
Approaching the small hamlet of Junqueira, the Camino turns into a more remote area. The landscape is open. A curious well stands next to the path leaving Junqueira, driven by a large wheel. I try a few rounds, but no water appears. In Alvorge I search for any signs of Ciaran, but he must has passed on. When I am about to sit down in a café for lunch, I spot Ciaran walking by. How did he came behind me? The answer is of course, went the wrong way.
The Camino went underneath lots of these tall great trees today, between Netos and Venda do Brasil.
Ciaran leaves before me again, but when I come to the ruins of the Ladeia tower and estate, I can see him coming from behind. On another path than I came down from. The vegetation overgrowing in the ruins do not date back to the 15th century, as the remains does. Only a tiny bit of the roofs are left, otherwise the blue sky makes up the roofs. Most of the walls are broken or crumbled, with vines and trees trying to patch them together again.
Another pleasant gravel track.
Lilacs.
Passing by olive groves, the Camino enters an even more remote looking area. With wide and open spaces covered by low brush. I can see the path winding itself through the dry landscape, with two distinct hills in the distance as backdrop. The hill closest by is Monte Jerumelo, behind that and closer to Rabaçal is the hill that houses the ruins of the Castelo de Germanelo. I am looking at the clock and the map in my guidebook, trying to see if it is feasible to climb one of them, deciding to let it go. The route takes us past wayside shrines and a tiny windmill.
A short, but great, gnarled path going underneath gnarled trees.
The Camino leaving Junqueira passing by a strange well with a wheel.
In Rabaçal we go straight to the recommended albergue, O Bonito. Hot and thirsty, we forget about the necessities and sits down for a cold beer. Alex and Chiara are already present, making use of the swimming pool. The first beer turns into a second beer. Then I think it is time for us to get a bed in the dormitory there, but I am put on hold. Francoise, a pilgrim I have not met before, is on the phone talking to some pilgrims apparently. They are calling in to book a place and is snatching the two last remaining beds just in front of my eyes. It is the two french women that walked past us in Ansião.
View of Castelo de Germanelo and Monte Jerumelo from Alvorge.
The Camino going past the ruins of the Ladeia tower and estate.
Both Ciaran and me is a little bit dumbfounded by this. Where did all the pilgrims come from? We have almost never seen anyone and here the albergue is full. We come to the conclusion that this must be junction with the Caminho de Fátima, both those coming from and those walking to it. It is far from a problem anyway, we get a room at the Casa de Turismo do Rabaçal, with a private bathroom too.
Inside the ruins of the Ladeia tower and Estate.
However, by this time the thoughts that have been gnawing at my mind has become unbearable. I have to go and climb up to some ruins at the top of a hill, Castelo de Germanelo.
On the way to Rabaçal, the path takes us through this dry and open landscape, with Monte Jerumelo in the back.
In the evening we eat a dinner at the Restaurante Bonito. Here we then experience the positive side of a full albergue, where we share a table together with several pilgrims. Menu del peregrino and memories, but it is good with plenty of wine to go with it.
A tiny windmill passed by on the way to Rabaçal.
Unintentionally, the evening also provides us with some unexpected entertainment. First off is the amusing sight of a couple of women trying to snatch some clothes from a clothes dispensal container, which they do in a really clumsily fashion. Second off is when Ciaran and me is back at our room, where we can see one of the locals trying to start his tractor. He has had way too much to drink and is at first unable to start it, whereupon he is getting angry and kicking the poor tractor. Finally he gets it started and takes off driving like a madman down the street. In a far from straight line. It is a hilarious view, and quite sad at the same time. I cannot help though, to imagine finding him in a ditch sleeping over the wheel, when I walk tomorrow morning.
A strange door in the Igreja Matriz in Rabaçal, you can actually walk around the door instead of going through it.
A wonderful day and definitely the day I have appreciated most so far on my Camino.
Evening in Rabaçal.
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