Walking 18 km from Vila Franca de Xira to Azembuja kicked off at the crack of dawn, precisely at 06:00. By rolling out of bed so early, the hope was to dodge the kind of heat that could turn the route into a scene from a survival movie. A light breakfast was scarfed at the hostel—just enough fuel to get the legs moving and the grumbling stomach quieted.
As the morning ambled along, the temperature remained surprisingly pleasant, much like a nice spring day in a rom-com. A few (8) kilometers down the trail, it was time for what every respectable pilgrim craves: a second breakfast. Thankfully, there were no gruff-looking swordsmen here to grumble, “You’ve already had breakfast.” Instead, a charming little café called 'O Manuel' awaited, the perfect oasis. The café served coffee strong enough to revive Frankenstein’s monster—minus the need for a lightning storm—and sandwiches that would remind anyone of the countless bocadillos consumed on the Frances. Who says you can’t eat your way through an adventure?
I took an hour long breakfast break, letting those tired legs rest while raising a pastry to their victory over morning hunger. If only the pastries offered the same power-up that Mario got from mushrooms! But alas, the adventure continued, fueled by caffeine and carbs.
The walk proceeded smoothly, helped along by a cloud cover that lingered for a significant part of the day—who doesn’t love a free little umbrella in the sky?
However, as the clouds finally decided to clear out, the sun emerged with all the subtlety of a buekorps.
Imagine if hell had a marching band to torment hungover drunkards… ‘buekorps’ is worse, just ask anyone from Bergen.
Fortunately, the route allowed for careful pacing and proper hydration, because nothing says 'fun' like sweating profusely while trying to avoid becoming a human lobster. Despite the rising temperatures, I skillfully dodged sunburns, just, proving that this day I was indeed, the champion of hydration and shade-seeking.
Upon reaching Azembuja, my first task was finding 'Flor da Primavera,' the guest house I had booked, and getting a much-needed shower.
After that, I tackled laundry by using my new "splash and hope" method of handwashing in a tiny sink. Time was of the essence…
I also had to face the challenge of finding food before local spots closed for their midday break. Just as I considered vending machine snacks, a local pizzeria appeared, offering salvation in the form of cheesy goodness.
While on the way to the pizzeria, a self-service laundromat was spotted, and after a few choice words forming at the tip of my tounge, I decided I would afford myself the luxury of totally clean clothes and not the pilgrim version of clean. I managed to suss out that the laundry auto-dispensed detergent and fabric softener, great for my cotton t-shirts, and techical shorts, less so for merino wool socks. I decided I would risk it. But first…
Pizza, it was time to get some sustenance… my stomach was threatening a revolt at this point.
With all that done and a trip to the local supermarket to resupply my snack-stash
Dinner is on the horizon, question is what…
Tomorrow I start the long flat trek to Santarém, which has the indecency to conclude in a steep ~100m elevation climb… at the very end…. Whoever was on the planning commission back when this pilgrimage route was proposed, I’d like to have a few words about that. There are few options to stop and spend the night between Azambuja and Santarém, so onwards.
The forecast for tomorrow is similar to today, but the trek is about 30% longer, so I’ll start around 04:00. I have a private room for the night, so no snoring from, or waking other pilgrims.
Wish me, my feet, and my legs luck…