After two full days in Vila Franca de Xira (not counting my arrival day, or tomorrow’s escape), I feel like I’m embarking on a brand-new camino.
Sure, I’ve taken rest days on my previous adventures, but typically not this early. It’s like I decided to hit the snooze button before before the alarm have gone off. Who knew resting could become part of the plan? At this rate, I might even become a professional leisure traveler!
I’ve continously met a new crew of fellow pilgrims here each day, and we've been swapping stories like they're going out of fashion. Quite a few of them had a one, or more caminos under their feet.
And those of us who’ve tackled the Frances really bonded over our love-hate relationship with that trail. Mostly love, but nothing creates instant friendship like finding people who suffered the same thing you did.
Like walking into Burgos, where after a long walk to get there you see the sign ‘Burgos’ and rejoice at making your destination. Only to find yourself a on two-hour trek through an industrial wasteland—my feet still haven't forgiven me, and I suspect they might be plotting my demise— and then you finally arrive at civilization, only to find yourself yearning to escape yet again.
The parallels with 'escaping' Lisbon are striking. The key difference? Starting on the Frances treats you to stunning landscapes and breathtaking nature for days before the approach to Burgos gives you that surprise kick in the teeth.
In contrast, walking out of Lisbon feels more like being punched in the face by a rude stranger right from the start.
I’ve been hanging around here long enough to qualify as an unwanted houseplant. "Guests, like fish, start to smell after three days.”—a friend recently quoted to me, so unless I want to start growing gills, and end up as dish of the day, it’s time for me to lace up my hiking boots and hit the trail again. What is past is prologue…
The upcoming sequel; a leisurely stroll of 18km to Azambuja. It's like a gentle warm-up for my feet…
After that, though, things get a little spicy, with my daily distances creeping up to a whopping 30 kilometers for the next week. I’ve already secured my cozy beds at each planned stop, so I can rest my weary legs.
After some reflection on my 35km walk to get here I’m feeling a lot more hopeful. Here are the key takeaways from that day:
The small blister were just my foot's way of saying, “Hey, i’m working hard!”
When life gives you a long walk, bring snacks. Lots of snacks.
If I can survive 35 kilometers, I can survive anything – like a 10-minute meeting.
Some days, the only thing that will keep me going forward is the thought that each step takes me closer to my next meal, a hot shower, and my cozy bed. It’s like a three-course meal of motivation: dinner, hygiene, and hibernation!
Walking really helps clear the mind... especially when you have to dodge flamingos.
Hydration is key, but so is knowing when to take a break and enjoy the view – or the nearest bench.
But most importantly…
Start earlier—because while I can handle the chill of a typical Norwegian winter, but the heat? Let’s just say I’m more prepared for a polar expedition than a sun-soaked afternoon.
Most of my friends are always longing for the lovely Mediterranean warmth. As for me? I’m like a popsicle melting in the sun, becoming a potential slip hazard for anyone walking behind me. Apparently, I missed out on the "how to stay cool" upgrade in the evolutionary software.
Anyone know if there is a software patch I can install?
Next time you hear from me, I hope I’m there and not melted like a popsicle. Picture me in a wide-brimmed hat, dodging sun like a final boss. If I do melt, please turn me into an art installation titled "The Great Sun-Kissed Artist," labeled with the date for posterity. Until then, I’ll be hydrating like a cactus in a rainforest. Stay tuned!