The More I Become Myself

Portuguese Coastal Camino
Stage 10: Baiona to Coruju – adjusted to Praia Patos
Free Day: the Cies Islands

Cies Islands

Half way through my Camino and the “ordeals” I’d mentioned in an earlier post were coming to bear. Despite waking to a glorious sunny day, my mood was cloudy. Again, a couple of FACEBOOK finds, written in my journal with the title, “thoughts for my day that re-ignited my love and joy”:

“I worried alot.

…Was I right, was I wrong, will I be forgiven,
can I do better?

…Finally I saw that worrying had come to nothing.
And gave it up. And took my old body
and went out into the morning
and sang.”

Mary Oliver, I Worried

And this one:

“I was in darkness, but I took three steps and found myself in paradise. The first step was a good thought; the second, a good word; and the third, a good deed.”

Friedrich Nietzsche

Breakfast with time taken to unpack matters weighing heavy meant for a later start, something we’d need to contend with as the temperatures rose and blistered feet swelled. (Though as I write this now, nothing like the record breaking heat both Portugal and Spain are experiencing – so intense that many are walking at night, or canceling their Caminos altogether.) And our decision to ignore the GPS route to continue walking along the coast would prove less successful getting to our endpoint, though a cooler and beautiful alternative.

Crossing over the River Minor via the jagged 13th C Ponte da Ramallosa bridge with St. Telmo watching over :

Walking on the boardwalk by one of Galacia’s golden beaches, Praia America, with its steeple and domed mosque in the distance:

To finally eating our packed lunch at Praia Patos, further north along the coast on the other side of the peninsula, where, in the hot and hazy distance, we saw the next day’s destination, the Cies Islands:

Cies Islands from Patos Beach, Nigran, Galacia Spain

Maybe it was the blisters, or the bee stings, or the blazing sun, but when my companion acknowledged her need to call short this stage, letting us make use of the nearby hotel to call a cab, she gave us both the gift of an early return to Baiona to enjoy a leisurely lunch over a bottle of “rosado,” some sight seeing, and to organize the cab to Vigo to catch the morning ferry to the Cies Islands the next day. From my journal: “The chapel of Santa Liberata (1695) commemorating Baiona’s martyred daughter and 1st woman in the world crucified, and the Collegiate Church of Santa Maria-Virgen de la Rosa – I felt very much the feminine spirit of this place…how today we had dipped into the wounds of the feminine – as mother, daughter, women…and how in the surrendering to need, giving us a most beautiful day.”

“Once we believe in ourselves, we can risk curiosity, wonder, spontaneous delight, or any experience that reveals the human spirit.”

e.e. cummings – written on my journal page, Friday, May 20, 2022: STAGE 10- Baiona to Patos

The following day brought a cycling back around to cool, overcast weather. Maybe a blessing as we’d be hiking in the elements with limited shelter on the fixed ferry schedule I’d reserved months earlier. The Cies Islands are an archipelago of three islands in the Atlantic at the mouth of the Vigo River. A designated natural reserve with pristine white beaches, cliffs, and fragile flora and fauna, access is restricted with ferry crossings pre-booked online. From my journal Saturday, May 21, 2022 – “Free Day” Cies Islands: “Like clockwork! Front desk reserved a taxi and Carlos picked us up promptly in his immaculate CRV, drove us to Vigo and was there again at 6:00 pm to return us to Baiona. Perfect weather for walking on the ‘Ruta del Alto do Principe,’ to the cliffs on the north island – Monteagudo – facing west onto the Atlantic and the lighthouse – Faro de Cies – in the distance. Ate lunch and then relaxed at the harbor, people watching and waiting for the ferry. Taking a ‘rest day’ I realize my fatigue. But once I clarified with lovely Paola from PGW, who I met tonight, on how we proceed tomorrow, I’m ready for the long walk to Vigo. ‘Stay on the blue GPS route,’ she instructed. “

Back in Baiona, those laden skies opened up, pouring as we crossed the street for dinner, and for most of the night, with thunder rumbling and lightning flashing across the sky. By the time morning came, it lifted enough to set out with Carlos, who having returned, would drive us to the next stage’s starting point, Corujo.

Reflecting that day on the Cies Islands, I recalled my solo travels in Italy, to the time when sitting sipping icy limoncello on the boardwalk at Monterosso al Mare – the first of the five villages of the Cinque Terre – I watched two silver haired women disembark from the train, obvious trekkers with their boots, backpacks, and poles. Inspired by their presence, I made a mental note that I wanted to be like them at their age, which I’d imagined to be in their seventies. As fate would have it, these words appeared on my FACEBOOK feed later that evening:

“Aging is no accident. It is necessary to the human condition, intended by the soul. We become more characteristic of who we are simply by lasting into later years; the older we become, the more our true natures emerge. Thus the final years have a very important purpose: the fulfilment and confirmation of one’s character.”

James Hillman

While I have a few years before my hair becomes as silver, I am more becoming myself with every step, and mis-step, taken in this Camino that is my life.

Much love and kindest regards, dear friends.

Dance On

Portuguese Coastal Camino
Stage 8: A Guarda to Oia-Viladesuso
Stage 9: Oia to Baiona

(In lieu of Friday’s photo and poem feature.)

sunset shots from Oia-Viladesuso

“I sometimes forget
that I was created for joy.
My mind is too busy.
My heart is too heavy
for me to remember
that I have been
called to dance
the sacred dance of life.
I was created to smile,
to Love,
to be lifted up
and to lift others up.
O Sacred One,
untangle my feet
from all that ensnares.
Free my soul
that we might
Dance
and that our dancing
might be contagious.”

Hafiz

Like following one’s daily horoscope, I discovered when away that a quick scroll on Facebook always reaped a pearl of wisdom for my day. I know its about algorithms and such, that what I post, like, and follow brings up more of the same. But still, it was uncanny how many times a post was especially relevant for the day, or at least oriented my thinking during the kilometers of walking with myself, in silence.

And so it was on Wednesday, May 18, the 8th stage from A Guarda to Oia, these words from my beloved Hafiz appeared, eventually weaving themselves into the chant I composed with the words from Thich Nhat Hahn, and those from my other beloved, Rumi, which I’d auspiciously written on my journal’s page of the same date: “The Soul is here for its own joy.”

From my journal: “Another beautiful coastal walk – this time along rocky shores. Overcast, cool. But again as the day passed, and now 6:00 pm sitting at the hotel at Oia – really 4 km north at Viladesuso – clear sky, high white clouds. Seeing more ‘peregrinos’ walking – and at “THE” rest stop café at Portocelo, where we shared a terrific homemade breakfast sandwich with cappuccinos, met our friends from lunch in Viana do Castelo. Too, the four American women from the hotel in A Guarda, heading to Baiona. It seems PGW might underestimate distance, as they quoted 13-14 km, when I registered over 17 when all was said and done.”

Percebes. AKA gooseneck barnacles.
I’d first heard about them watching Rick Steves eating them in Spain, or was it Portugal? Then, our friends from lunch in Viana do Castelo mentioned them as being a “must try” food adventure…that their father, originally from Spain’s northern coast, would special order them for Christmas at home in Costa Rica, and that they were anticipating this taste of memory and tradition. Walking to Oia, I realized, seeing the jauntily attired woman sitting on the ground with a tarp of odd looking black things in front of her, that these were them – barnacles, fresh from being scraped off rocks by her and her intrepid team of free divers. Cleaned and sorted before being sold to local restaurants, no wonder percebes are called the world’s most expensive seafood. Curious and adventurous, my anticipation would grow until I finally tasted them a few stops up the coast.

percebes…weird and delicious, in a briny sea fresh way

Thursday, May 19, 2022 – STAGE 9: Oia to Baiona. Waking at dawn the next day, the weather pattern shifted again, with sun and warmer temperatures forecasted. Morning fog settling on the coastline brought a soft outlook to the day’s start. From my journal: “Now it might be having opted out of following the route up thru the woods, choosing instead to walk along the coastal highway to Baiona, that our day was wonderfully shorter than anticipated. Just as we’d crossed the highway and passed thru the ‘questionable gate’ to begin the climb, I turned around and there was Tircia, the young woman, who with her parents, had braved the elements with us crossing the river in the outboard at Caminho, walking alone. Deliberating back and forth, and hearing her say ‘it’s the last day the route is along the coast,’ I finally made the decision for us, inviting her along the coastal walk. Such a good choice!!! As after several days of low cloud, mist and rain, it was still cool with fog but beautiful ocean vistas soon shone bright and blue. I realized yesterday this walk has been an ‘Introvert’s Paradise.’ I feel no inclination for conversation or small talk. I feel very good, very light, very pleased that a mis-step led me to the empty chapel yesterday morning in A Guarda, where I could get my bearings and guidance, as hundreds have done for hundreds of years before me…to know my next step.”

That stretch of coastal walk was one of the most beautiful, where hitting my stride, I felt myself smile and dance with joy. Having abandoned the map, heeding input from a younger woman’s knowing, and trusting intuition – and the simple logic that by keeping the ocean to our left we wouldn’t get too far off course – we made our way, I walking ahead, singing to myself, the sea and sky. Pausing now and then to take in the magnificence and make a photo, I found myself thinking about what it means to make a commitment, particularly to one’s self – often the most difficult one to make, particularly for women. Remembering the commitment I had made to the Camino the moment I had said “yes” last December, I realized it and my commitment to my life were steps in the same dance. That when I followed its sacred choreography, the more my joy. And that this joy was palpable…it flowed, attracted, and was contagious to those open to catching it. Like the young waiter at the café in Baiona where we stopped for lunch before checking into our hotel.

Sitting al fresco across from Baiona’s marina, I scanned the menu and saw rice with seafood and squid ink. My traveling companion game, and having ascertained it would take at least 30 minutes’ preparation, thus guaranteeing its freshness – I ordered, much to the waiter’s skepticism. “Was I sure?” he wondered aloud with gesture. I assured him I knew what I was doing, thanks to those cooking classes back home. Forty-five minutes later, the younger waiter – who had several minutes earlier assured us it was coming and would be fantastic!!!! – again with unabashed delight, now presented us the spectacle – a very hot terracotta pot steaming and bubbling like molten lava, rice blackened with squid ink, filled with shrimps, clams and squids, a creamy mound of aioli in the center.

A celebration of joy, that memory-making meal. The pinnacle of joy in that memory-making walk.

“With every step I kiss the Earth.
With every step I make a prayer.
The Soul comes for its own joy.
Dance on, dance on, dance on.”

Much love and kindest regards, dear friends.

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