Distance: 33.7km (128.8km), time spent: 11:10.
Weather: Hot, sunny and beautiful.
Today I had one goal in my mind when I woke up. To get to see the sunrise from the old fortress at the top of Santarém, the aptly named Portas do Sol. Walking up through the streets, it becomes clear that that we did not see the best part of Santarém yesterday. The old town is a lot more interesting than the newer parts, as always.
Walking through the streets of Santarém in the morning.
Portas do Sol may not be very high up, although being the highest point of the hill Santarém is located on, but the views from the walls are unobstructed. Thus I bear witness to a warm light starting to radiate from the horizon, causing a gentle glow to spread across the landscape. AS the landscape is flat, I can look quite far away. Then the fiery red disc of the sun rises up in the horizon. I think this is the moment when the true spirit of my walk has woken. When I arrived at Portas do Sol, I could see gentle wisps of clouds floating over the landscape below, now the yellow light are filtered through the remnants. It borders upon being glorious.
Rio Tejo from Portas do Sol.
Santarém (from Portas do Sol).
I had disregarded getting breakfast on the way up, but as the sun has risen on the sky, the need for food has risen in me. Meaning going back to a small square near the Torre das Cabaças (clock tower). I have not seen any signs of Ciaran, who had stopped for breakfast further down before I went for the sunrise.
A tiled bench at Portas do Sol.
View from Portas do Sol with sunrise.
A steep, but short, descent from the second visit to Portas do Sol starting through the Porta de Santiago, brings me down to Ribeira de Santarém. Here again, after walking through the village, the flat and cultivated land around Santarém awaits me. It is also quiet, at least until the meandering path through the fields reaches a road, which the Camino follows up to Vale de Figueira. There has been no signs of other pilgrims, but here I find a couple of others in one of the cafés, and a café com leite. Today is also mostly a walk on flat gournd, apart from the morning descent and this hill.
Sunrise from Portas do Sol.
The days continues being hot, in the upper thirties. Going through a small section of the route that feels remote (which of course it is not), I send up small dust clouds whenever I put down my feet. The air is dry, and the path is covered with even drier sand. Reaching another set of acres, I catch up with an Australian family, an elderly couple walking together with their son.
Ribeira de Santarém.
While walking with the Australian family, the son suddenly exclaims that we are not on the Camino. Looking at his GPS, he can see that we have strayed from the path. Although, I cannot understand how. There was a waymarker pointing to the path we are walking on, and I have not seen any other paths leaving this one. They decide to continue on the non-Camino, as it offer more shade, but I want to be back on the correct path. There is another couple (turning out to be from Germany) in front of us and they appear to have come to the same conclusion as I have. Following a track leading away from the path we were walking on, we soon find a waymarker, although somewhat hidden.
The Camino after Santarém.
The church in Vale de Figueira.
It appear that we have entered a maze, because it does not get any better. Shortly after getting back on the Camino, me and the German couple arrive at a t-junction. Here there is one yellow arrow pointing towards the path to the left, and there is one yellow arrow pointing towards the path to the right. Confusing. The German couple takes the path going right, I go for the path to the left. I do not see them again. My path leads me to a junction with five exits to choose from. Three of the exits are marked with a yellow cross, telling me that neither is the Way. The only other exit that has a yellow arrow, is a path leading back in the exact same direction as I came from. I sigh and continue, eventually reaching a road after a confusing walk. Following the road, I soon find myself coming to a village that I first believe to be Pombalino, but turning out to be Azinhaga. I suspect they have just painted yellow arrows and set up waymarks pointing towards Azinhaga at every turn or junction, just to be sure that the pilgrims will at least arrive there.
Sunlight through forest.
Trying to recollect my bearings, thoughts and orientation, Azinhaga is the perfect place for lunch. Having ordered a large and juice tostada, I can eat outside in the plaza having eye contact with the statue of José Saramago, the famous writer. The Australian family arrives, from a complete different direction than I did. Then Ciaran arrives. How can that be? Last time I had contact with him, he was in front of me. What a fun day this has been so far.
The Camino from Vale de Figueira.
We walk together from Azinhaga. In my Cicerone guidebook (again following the arrows), not always necessary, but useful at times, I had read that there is an alternative route shortly after Azinhaga. This route is not the Camino, but should offer a more quiet walk. Ciaran agress to go there too. There are no waymarkers on this path, only long rows of barley fields, so we must find the correct way back to the Camino before it reaches Golegã. Pleasant indeed, but the quietness cannot do much regarding the heat. Only downside is what appears to be small lakes on the map, are not lakes at all.
An idol on a building next to the Camino.
The Australian family on the way to Azinhaga.
At the entrance to Golegã there is a small bar, where the locals already are discussing life, politics or gossip over the usal beers. A dog lies spread-eagled over the ground. We find it a perfect time for a couple of cold beers ourselves. It is hot and after all, beer was originally meant as a thirstquencher.
Ruinas de S. Sebastião in Azinhaga.
Azinhaga. Statue of José Saramago, famous Portuguese author and Nobel Laureate.
I want to see the studio house home of Carlos Relvas, so Ciaran goes to find our accommodation here. Carlos Relvas (Carlos Augusto de Mascarenhas Relvas de Campos, born 1838) was pioneer of photography, as well as a wealthy landowner and sportsman. His studio house is an elaborate and ornate bulding mixing iron and glass, built in the 19th century. It is open for group visits, but I am content with only viewing the wonderful engineered house from outside.
What appear as a ruin of a chapel or small church in the fields.
The studio house of Carlos Relvas in Golegã.
Albergue Solo Duro is a great place (do not be intimated by the huge dogs), with a backyard, friendly hostess, a cosy livingroom and space for the pilgrims to rest and sleep in. Golegã otherwise appear bigger than what I believed it to be. Ciaran and I go down to a restaurant (Cafe Central) in the town square for dinner. The food is quite good and I try out an artisan beer from one of the major breweries in Portgual, Bohemia. A good evening again, but we both wonder how Stacy and Jerry are doing on their way to Fátima. We will go to another milestone tomorrow, Tomar. Today was the best day so far.
Tiled interior of the Igreja Matriz in Golegá.
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