I woke up early - before the alarm Love & Affection had set for 6am - and went to the bathroom before others woke and a line formed. When I exited, I saw the owner, Nuno, sorting the laundry as he had promised. I said good morning, grabbed my items and went back to my room. They were up and getting ready by now.
I wondered aloud if Nuno had ever done the Camino. His level of care and attention to the needs of the pilgrims had been unmatched in my Camino experiences and I couldn’t fathom the level of empathy needed to extend this care without having actually experienced the Camino. I laid there preparing my mind for the day as Love went to go check on the status of breakfast. She came back to share breakfast would be ready shortly and no, Nuno hasn’t done the Camino yet. Curious. How does one end up opening their home and extending themselves for pilgrims?
We eat breakfast and say our “Buen Caminos” as people file out. I’m still sleepy but decide to get an early start. I thank Nuno & begin down the drive. The morning is cool and misty, which is honestly pretty nice to walk in. I admire the trees and view as I make my way, saying bye to Paso Doble, the horse, as I go.
A dull ache in my foot arises before I reach the gate. Uh oh. Not bad enough to stop for but I definitely take notice. I exit the gate and keep going, hoping it’ll naturally fade away as quickly as it appeared. It does not. In fact, it worsens. I pause, thinking about the road ahead. Maybe I can keep going. I do. A step at a time my foot reminds me there’s wisdom in resting. I turn back and my eyes well up with tears. I listen to my feelings, the frustration of a wrench in my plans, the humility of my mortality, the excitement of how God will make good of even this. But I didn’t want to jump ahead. Let me feel this moment. Walking the opposite of direction of the Camino, I was aware that the chances of walking with those I’d walked with before were lessening as I assume they would all be continuing towards Santiago.
Approaching the gate, I saw the girl from Seattle exiting. I wiped the tears from my face and she asked about my foot. I shook my head. “I’ll be okay, I’m just frustrated right now.” She knelt down and took off her bag telling me she thought of me the night before and wanted to give me some kinesiology tape to help support my foot. She handed me a couple strips of the pink tape and instructed me on how to use it. I thanked her & entered the gate as she went toward the route. Buen Camino.
The tears continued to flow as I walked back down the path. I let them, wanting to get it out before I got to the house. I can be a crybaby but people don’t have to see it. As I got closer to the door, there was no sign of the tears stopping so I faced the yard and gave in. Honestly I had been wanting a good cry but I think I’d imagined it more privately.
Nuno must’ve heard me in the yard. He came out to check on me and ushered me inside. It took me a minute to gather myself. Sael was the last one packing up and came to check on me also. I told them the same thing I told the girl, I’m fine just frustrated about not walking. They understood. Nuno made me a coffee. Sael asked what I’d do instead. I replied honestly, “right now I just want to go back to sleep and start the day over again:”
As I sipped the coffee Nuno began to play his special Hawaiian ukulele, somewhere over the rainbow. Cheered up instantly, I started to sing along. He brought me a guitar to play & he picked out a melody on a beautiful Portuguese guitar. We tried to jam together but after playing the two chords I felt confident with a few times I decided to listen and made a mental note to get back to lessons with David one day.
Paso Doble came to join us as we listened to Nuno play which naturally shifted our attention. We admired the horse for a bit then Sael prepared to begin walking. Nuno said I could go back to my room til then cleaner comes then he’d take me to the farmácia to get something for my foot. I said goodbyes to Sael then went to lay down.
I slept good. Ain’t nothing like that sleep after a good cry. Around 11 we went to the farmácia, the scenic route past the river in town. There was a biker club gathering there with at least 50 bikers. Nuno told me about how he’d ridden Paso doble to the river & into town for the first time recently and really enjoyed. We continued on to the closest big town, Cartaxo, to the farmácia since it was Sunday and many places were closed. At the farmácia the tech recommended a spray called Picalm for my foot. Nuno got the same but in a cream for pilgrims who come to his home injured. Incredibly thoughtful.
After the farmácia, Nuno suggested a place in town for lunch that’s very popular with locals. I smelled the food as we made our way down the street. We waited about an hour to sit then enjoyed grilled sardines & bacalao (codfish), then a caramel flan like dish for dessert. Everything was absolutely delicious. While we ate Nuno told me how he accidentally became a hospitalero by encouraging his parents to turn the property into a hostel, which eventually came to serve more pilgrims than tourists. He hopes to one day make the journey himself.
Arriving back at the house, other pilgrims had arrived for the night. Sisters from Hungary, a solo lady from Portugal, a solo guy from Spain, a couple from… I’m not sure where they’re from but I assumed Germany. The lady from Portugal and I would be roomed together & she gave me advice on how to care for my feet as hers had also been in pain. We decided to take a rest then join Nuno and the Spanish guy for dinner back in town.
I laid down almost perfectly in time to start Sunday service and felt the relief of being with my family even from afar. For two days now I’ve been keenly aware of this grace, even though caused by discomfort, the slowing down has been worth it.
We enjoyed dinner of arroz y pato (rice and duck) and talked about that day’s elections, Basque Country (a fascinating area between Spain and France that’s maintained its own culture and language) and the state of America. We all spoke in Spanish, the one common language between the four of us. I didn’t feel like a foreigner, or a pilgrim, just a person having dinner either friends.
We returned at the end of what felt like a long day but full of rest and warmth. I prayed that my foot would allow me to continue on the next day but also gave thanks for the opportunity to rest and connect in way I couldn’t have planned. I laid down open to the possibilities of what the next day might offer.
I was very present today and didn’t take many pictures but the memories are vivid. If you’re curious for more visuals or info, I encourage you to Google:
Valada, Portugal (I’d say Valada to Lisbon is analogous to Pilot Point to Dallas)
Rio Tejo
Casal das Areias (in Valada, Portugal)
Restaurante Casta Tinta (in Cartaxo, Portugal)
Basque Country (or maybe more correctly, lá Tierra de Euskara)
Prayers are also very much requested - this foot injury on this journey that’s primarily walking feels a bit discouraging right now but currently trying to stay focused on the miracle that must be forthcoming and the other glimmers that going slow is allowing me to enjoy.
Duck and rice 🤤
Prayers for healing!!