Author's Note: This post merges several drafts from different days. Anyone who has walked the Camino understands that some days feel like an endless poem, with stanzas that don’t quite fit together. The stages are in order, but I’ve lost track of the days! Tenses may shift, resulting in a mix-up. Please don’t ask me to pinpoint a specific day; I’ve entered the “What is time?” phase of this journey.
These past three days on the Camino Portuguese have been full of challenges, surprises, and the kind of experiences that make this pilgrimage unforgettable.
Alvaiázere to Rabaçal – A Long, But Pleasant Trek
After several days on the Camino, I found myself in Alvaiázere, preparing for what everyone warned would be a tough climb out of the town. Pilgrims were dreading it, expecting steep ascents and grueling terrain. But to my surprise, it wasn’t nearly as difficult as anticipated—it felt more like my daily commute than a punishing trek. The terrain was varied, with enough rolling hills and changes in scenery to keep things interesting. Even when the sun came out in full force, the cool breeze made it all bearable.
The albergue in Rabaçal was an epic stop. It was one of those places where you’re reunited with familiar faces—many of the people I had met earlier on the Camino ended up there, too. We shared a decent meal and spent the evening in good conversation, swapping stories from the trail. There’s a unique camaraderie among pilgrims, and this stop really highlighted that.
Rabaçal to Coimbra – Sun, Asphalt, and Fatigue
The next day kicked off with a solid vibe. The initial leg of my walk from Rabaçal to Coimbra was the kind of picturesque terrain that made me feel like I was in a nature documentary—rolling hills, shady trails, and that blissful solitude that lets you forget about the rest of the world.
But then the afternoon decided to play a prank on me. Suddenly, the landscape transformed into a relentless stretch of asphalt that felt like stepping onto a hot griddle, with the sun cranking up the heat and not a whisper of breeze in sight.
By the time I staggered into Coimbra, I was so drained that I might have set a world record for ghosting. I had been chatting and laughing for the last couple of hours with a Romanian girl and her British boyfriend, but as they paused to snap some photos, my body went into autopilot mode. I simply didn’t have the willpower to wait—I had to keep moving before I turned into a puddle of sweat.
We had exchanged numbers to share photos later, so once I soaked in some AC at the hostel, I sent them a quick apology text, hoping they didn’t think I had vanished into the Bermuda Triangle.
The hostel I checked into was nice in a clean, functional sort of way, like a well-organized tool shed, but it had all the charm of a brick wall. It felt more like an industrial rest stop—practical, but so devoid of personality that I half-expected a vending machine to start giving me life advice. Luckily, Coimbra was bursting with character. The city was alive and kicking, a perfect backdrop for unwinding after the rough and tumble of the day.
Pilgrim Encounters: Poetry and Resilience
During my time in Coimbra, I met a fascinating pilgrim from Hamburg. He had been walking for two years, making his way home, writing poetry for donations along the way to sustain his journey. His story reminded me of how many different reasons people walk the Camino—some for spiritual growth, others for adventure, and some, like him, who simply keep walking because it has become a way of life.
Later, I found a cozy café in the main square, where I enjoyed a quiet meal and reflected on the day. It was the perfect end to a challenging, but rewarding, stretch of the journey.
The Hostel Roommate from Hell
Just when I thought the day was winding down smoothly, the real test of patience arrived. My roommate in the hostel came in reasonably late. He mentioned he was heading out to eat, and I let him know I planned to wake up early the next morning. He asked me to wake him up as well, which I agreed to.
But what followed was nothing short of chaotic. He returned after midnight, set an alarm for 4:30 a.m., and while he did wake up to the alarm, another one went off every 10 minutes after that. Needless to say, sleep was elusive, and I spent the early morning hours trapped in a relentless cycle of alarms. It was like some twisted endurance test.
Reflections and Looking Ahead
Despite the ups and downs, og those two days, they have been a reminder of why the Camino is such a powerful experience. There’s the beauty of the terrain, the connections with fellow pilgrims, and of course, the challenges that test your patience and resolve. You never know what each day will bring, but you keep moving forward, one step at a time.
Here’s hoping the next stretch brings a bit more rest, and fewer alarms!
Bom Caminho!
Coimbra to Mealhada: Return of the Asphalt Jungle
The stretch from Coimbra to Mealhada was a combination of the preceeding days—cold mornings, forest trails, and, of course, the inevitable stretch of asphalt that seems to follow every pilgrim on the Camino Portuguese.
I set out from Coimbra at 6 a.m., eager to get a head start on the day. The morning air was cold—so cold, in fact, that I needed both my merino wool shirt and my fleece to stay warm. Unfortunately, my legs weren’t so lucky; they had to settle for my trusty Gore-Tex shell trousers. While my upper half was snug, the cool morning air still bit at my legs.
Cafés in the first few towns were all closed, a downside to my early start. I had hoped for a warm coffee to kick off the day, but it wasn’t in the cards. Still, I knew the quiet, early hours were worth it.
Asphalt, Rested Feet, and Forest Trails
As expected, the first part of the day was a walk on asphalt as I made my way out of Coimbra. My feet, thankfully, were well-rested from the previous day, and while the hard surface wasn’t ideal, I had braced myself for it.
The middle part of the walk was a welcome reprieve: peaceful forest trails that offered both shade and solitude. There’s something about walking through the woods that calms the mind and makes the kilometers melt away. For a while, I was completely in my element.
The Return of the Asphalt and the Blazing Sun
Of course, as with most days on the Camino, the asphalt eventually made its return—this time with its old friend, the blazing sun. The last 7 kilometers into Mealhada were under a relentless sun with no shade in sight. But it wasn’t unbearable. In fact, this was exactly why I wanted to start early: to get the hard parts of the day over with while it was still manageable.
A 2.4-Kilometer Detour in Mealhada
A friend who follows me on social media had recommended an albergue in Mealhada, so I trusted their judgment. The only catch? It was at the far end of town. Mealhada, it turns out, is a long, narrow town, and reaching the albergue added 2.4 kilometers to my day’s walk. Thankfully, it was in the direction of the Camino, which means 2.4 kilometers fewer for tomorrow’s trek. A small consolation, but a consolation nonetheless.
About 15 minutes before I reached the albergue, I passed a pastry café that I just couldn’t resist. I decided to take a break, even though I was so close to my destination. Sometimes, 15 more minutes feels like 15 minutes too many, and today was one of those times. During my break, I did a quick “health check” on my feet. In my haste to get my socks back on afterward, I was a bit too rough and managed to tear a small hole in my precious merino wool socks (how many times can I mention merino wool?).
The Albergue and a Perfect Meal
With the break over, I finally made it to the albergue, only to find it wasn’t open yet. I called the number on the door and was told it would open in an hour. So I waited. One hour later, I was checked in, and after a much-needed shower, the familiar faces of the group I’ve been walking with for the past few days started to arrive. We all had a chat, did our chores and enjoyed the quiet after another long day on the Camino.
The day ended on a high note. I just barely made it to the restaurant before it closed and was rewarded with the best spare ribs I’ve had in a long time. The perfect way to end the day.
Ultreia et Susseia