Category Archives: Travel

Day 31 – Vila Praia de Âcora to Caminha: Short and sweet

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Sunday 27 September 2026 – Today’s walk was a short one because yesterday’s was shorter than it might have been. The “official” – Brierley – stage runs from Viana do Castelo to Caminha, which Brierley says is 27km but which according to my calculations would be 31km. I’m not saying we can’t cope with 31km in a day; I am saying that I’m not going to if there’s an alternative which allows us a little more time to take in the surroundings rather than just yomping the distance. That’s why we only had 21km to cover yesterday, which got us to Vila Praia de Âncora, and why we had only 10km to cover today to get us to Caminha, basically by walking along the coast.

Our weather prospects today were a little less pleasing than the low-20s and sunshine that we’ve enjoyed for the previous few days; there was actual rain forecast. Although we didn’t expect it to be anything more than a few drops, we still made sure that rain jackets were easily to hand in our backpacks. As we left Vila Praia de  Âncora,

passing the Anchor Fort

and a fishermen’s monument

which reads ​”Tribute from the People of Vila Praia de Âncora to their fishermen and their families, to the hardships at sea and the waiting on land, to the tears of grief and to the bread brought back with every return”, the weather was, indeed rather grey,

but the rain obligingly held off for our walk, bar a couple of drops. Vila Praia de Âncora is very much a seasidey holiday sort of place, and there are various leisure activities promoted near the shore; pétanque,

watching the tide roll in,

or walking the path by the shore, when all you have to do is dodge the cyclists, e-scooter maniacs and

pilgrims.

They even cater for swingers here.

Of course, there are the nods to the Caminho as well.

A short distance along the path is another of these chapels-with-a-front-porch (Romanesque style) that we’ve seen quite a few of over the last days.

This one is the The Santo Isidoro Chapel, from the 19th century. According to the info board outside it, the chapel holds, inter alia, a status of St. James, but Isidoor Open?

Nope. So we’ll never know. Jane peered through the keyhole

but couldn’t see any Santiago statue. The waymarking is a little confusing in places

which might result from the confluence at this point of the Litoral and Coastal routes. It makes no practical difference – whichever you choose basically parallels the coast all the way to Caminha. Looking north, one can see Spain.

There’s the small matter of the river Minho between us and that hill, and at Caminha it’s possible to take a ferry across; some pilgrims do that, but our route was going to keep us on the Portuguese side for a while yet. Looking to the headland to the left, one can make out a fort.

This one is on a pensinsula, Ponta da Ruiva, strategically placed to keep an eye on those Spanish bastards in case they try to invade again; presumably it’s another part of the chain of the fortifications including Âncora and Viana de Castelo.

About half way along the walk is the town of Moledo

and one can opt either to carry on the Litoral path, or to duck under the railway

and continue on the Coastal path. This is what we decided to do in the (vindicated) hope that there would be fewer pilgrims and the certainty that there would be fewer cyclists and scooterists.

Unsurprisingly, given the density of pilgrimage going by, there are entrepreneurial pop-ups;

this one, shoreline side, offered a variety of tat jewellery and other creations and one could get a selo here, too; and there was one on the road side, also.

We stopped for a coffee (OK, yes, pastries, too) in Moledo, and walking the road side took us past a few vignettes,

including this rather fine mansion, which is typically Portuguese in that it’s utterly impossible to tell whether it’s lived in or abandoned. Eventually road side and shoreline side coincide (see what I did there?) and there’s just a long straight road into Caminha.

Caminha, then. It might seem that its name is related to Caminho, similar to the Touguinha/Touginho we came across some days ago. But it isn’t. The place name Caminha is centuries older than its association with the pilgrim route. Caminha/Caminho have different etymological origins and the similarity is entirely coincidental. The Romans had a military presence here, and the settlement grew as a fishing village before King Afonso III built a new castle and fortifications around it in the 13th century. Caminha later prospered as a trading and shipbuilding town, and its old walled centre still shows that medieval layout. A place with history, then. It’s quite handsome as you walk in

though there is the usual sprinkling of scruffiness which may or may not indicate an abandoned building. This building was certainly not abandoned

A statue pays tribute to its fishing history.

I captured the photo below as a grab shot as we walked along;

I’m not sure if the lady is a peregrina walking her pony, or whether she’s just dressed like one. You decide.

The historic centre is small but well-formed

To the left in the photo above, the Clock Tower (Torre do Relógio) is the last remaining structure of the 13th-century town walls, built under Afonso III. Originally a defensive gate-tower guarding the southern entrance to the citadel, it only became known as the “clock tower” after a clock was installed in 1673. It stands guard over a square with plenty of opportunities for rest, relaxation and refreshment.

We looked in at our hotel, the invitingly-named Design and Wine Hotel, but we were a couple of hours too early for them to have a room available, so we wandered the town for a bit and then had lunch at the hotel.

Walking through the arch in the clockhouse takes one into the main historic street.

You can tell it’s historic because it’s very grey. Off to the side we saw a vintage, rather than historic sight;

an old Riley 4/72, a car from the ’60s.  This one had left-hand drive and so was clearly a naturalised automotive citizen, but as we’d walked in we’d been passed by a MG Midget in a fetching shade of blue which was a right-hand drive (i.e. UK spec) car. Coincidence? Or maybe there’s something of a collector living around these here parts?

At the bottom of this old street is the main church, dedicated to Nossa Senhora da Assunção, and it’s a very impressive piece of masonry.

It stands inside the old walls where a smaller Romanesque chapel once stood. It was built between 1488 and 1556 entirely of local granite, with the typical northern-Portuguese three-nave plan, and wonderful 16th-century polychrome tiles above the arcades of the central nave.

The elaborately carved main portal, with Manueline stonework, is one of its highlights.

The cars parked outside it demonstrated that there was a mass going on, but it ended as we watched and so we were able to go inside for a short while after it had emptied.

The ceiling of the main nave is an impressive piece of carving,

and a side chapel is dedicated to seafarers

as you can tell from the ships suspended in it.

We were politely ushered out after a few minutes of our gawping, and so we headed back towards the hotel and lunch, via another church, the Igreja da Misericórdia,

which has – oh, goodness me! – a Eucharistic Throne!

The ceiling over the altar is very striking,

and the organ has some horizontal pipes,

and, I think, a pigeon nesting in it.

We had a decent lunch at the hotel, though, rather disappointingly for a hotel bearing its name, it didn’t have any white port in stock, so Jane had to make do with a tawny port & tonic, which was OK but not as good as the real thing. The food was good but it became clear that there were staff pressures; our waitress had to deal single-handedly with an entire dining room and the receptionist appeared to be rather harrassed. We eventually got into our room, which looks spiffy but closer examination shows it to be rather fading and in need of tarting up a bit. We’d seen all the things that were (a) worth seeing and (b) open, so relaxed for the rest of the day. As the afternoon came to a close, it was lovely to see and hear the sparrows and other small birds as they came and went and twittered about in the creeper festooning the walls of the hotel which face an inner garden. They were swooping right outside our window, presumably making preparations for roosting for the night.

We have a shortish – 15km – walk to do tomorrow, and Accuweather is making rumbling noises about thunderstorms in the morning. So we will probably make a later departure, once again with rain jackets close at hand. Come back in due course to find out if we got struck by lightning.

 

 

Day 30 – Viana do Castelo to Âncora: Another good day

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Saturday 26 September 2026 – The staff at the Chocolate Factory hotel has asked us to nominate a breakfast time, so we’d asked for 7.30am. We turned up on time (of course) and were served breakfast on a large tray. It included pretty much all the things we like for breakfast – fruit, yoghurt, bread rolls, the normal kind of things that one finds in a Portuguese hotel breakfast. There was pain au chocolat, of course, and chocolate cake, and pancakes with chocolate sauce, so we left pretty well chocolated breakfasted, into a steady stream of pilgrims:

not a huge crowd, but more than just the odd one or two.

Our first target was to get inside the cathedral to get the photos of which we’d been robbed the previous evening. We got there and saw that the door was, indeed, open, so we went inside….

to find that scaffolding surrounded quite a lot of the interior! There was a side chapel

which included St. James,

so we made the most of that, and left. As we passed the Igreja de Nossa Senhora de Agonia

(our lady the agony aunt?), Jane noticed that the route we were on – which we’d kind of blundered along, looking at yellow arrow waymarks and following the crowd – was not the route shown on our online map, so we blundered about some more to get us back on our track. It would seem that there are several slight variants of the route, and none of them are at all significant, it’s just that we like to know exactly where we are and where we’re headed.

Where we were headed took us past a rather serendipitous alignment of a fountain, a church and the Basilica,

and onwards past what we take to be a quarry;

it’s not usual, in our experience, to find them by the side of a normal road. Then we left tarmac for a while

past an offering which might have been for pilgrims

or maybe dog owners exercising their pets? We also found our first all-stone espigueiro,

which is an example of things being preserved for historical and cultural reasons; this being somewhat in contrast to this scene, which kind of sums up a very Portuguese landscape:

an abandoned house right beside a brand new building site.

We weren’t sure about the actual length of the walk today, but reckoned it would be at least 16km, with, it seemed, the first coffee stop at about half way. Eight kilometres is quite a long way to walk first thing without some kind of caffeine injection, so when, at around the 5km mark, we saw this advert

we decided it must be worth a diversion, as we had (just about) made the minimum qualifying distance. And it was. It was a delightful place – good coffee, excellent service, well-organised and obviously popular with the locals. I was all for staying for a second coffee, but we had to move on, really.

Shortly after leaving the café, we came up behind a couple of pilgrims, and I wish I’d been swift enough to take a picture: one with a full backpack, the other with almost no discernable bag at all. We all turned a corner to find a steep bit and the backpack chap dropped back. We exchanged a rueful comment and it turned out that (a) he was a Brit and (b) he needed an excuse not to carry on chatting with the lady he’d been talking to as we saw them. It turned out that she was Chinese and their conversation was entirely through Google translate, which must have been very difficult; so Bob dropped back and walked with us while the Chinese lady got out of range, as it were. We passed various scenes as we walked and talked

and, to be honest, mainly listened to Bob. He was a decent chap, came from West Runton in Norfolk (where I’d spent two holidays 60 years ago), but he talked too much and walked too slowly for me; if I am forced to amble, my back starts hurting. We passed a wonderful, if eccentric, sculpture garden,

a cross with votive offerings from passing pilgrims,

and a generator that looked like Darth Vader.

In the end, I got a bit fed up with his slow pace and walked on a bit ahead, only to catch up with an Australian group and fall into conversation with them. It was all very pleasant, and definitely part of the Camino experience, but when we reached the halfway house café, which, at 10km along the road was a further qualifying distance, the break for coffee made for a break in the grouping; we chatted to another couple at the café, who had been on the same Elevador ride down from Santa Luzia yesterday as us. Jane and I seemed to need less time to rest and so got away slightly before everyone else so that, really for the first time today, we had the trail to ourselves, which was lovely. I was so glad to get back to some solitude that I entirely forgot to take any photos of the café, which was another well-organised place, or the various people we’d been chatting to, which is a bad omission on my part. However, the walking and talking, which was nice, and the solitude afterwards, which was blissful, made me realise that we have a dissonance in our approach to these walks; we like to walk by ourselves, but we also like to have the opportunities for coffee stops. And you can’t have coffee stops without pilgrims.

The next few kilometres were very pleasant;

quiet, not too bad underfoot except for a couple of rocky patches when we left tarmac or cobbles, and with a few things to look at as we passed.

At the 14.5km mark, though, we had a hill to get over; not too much ascent – about 75 metres, but quite steep, and rocky in places.

It wasn’t all hard work, though, and there were some opportunities to use taking a photo as an excuse to have a bit of a breather: this dovecote, for example;

and this example of Morning Glory cimbing a grapevine.

The uphill section ended with one steeper passage,

with, on the wall there, an azulejo which seemed to say “are you mad, or something?”

and more steps made this something of a testing part of the walk,

not that the gradient seemed to be too much for a cyclist who came past.

We made it to the top, which was approximately marked by a cross, once again with votive offerings around and on it

and, of course, then had the benefit of a lovely view over the surroundings.

We could have taken a coffee before the climb, but We Were Strong and decided that we should have a coffee as a reward; shortly after we started down there was another place to stop,

with a great terrace

and some bizarre decor touches,

all overseen with charm and efficiency by a chap who looked disconcertingly like Gareth Southgate.

He was obviously a good manager, too.

Under way again, we soon could see our destination, Âncora, in the distance

and the road led down into the town

past, in one place, an unusually decorated house;

I think that literally all the roof tiles I’ve seen except these have been terracotta coloured.

It wasn’t just a case of walking straight down the road into town and to our hotel; the Caminho trail veered off the road past this unusual cross,

a rather cute chapel,

and an attractive garden/rest area.

We crossed a stream via an old bridge

and eventually emerged into Vila Praia de Âncora, which is handsome enough, if a bit faded in places.

The main square has an attractive church, the Capela de Nossa Senhora da Bonança,

which has beautfully painted ceilings above both altar

and nave.

Jane got a selo from this church, and then we set out to find the tourist office for another selo. This involved crossing the railway, which literally runs through the middle of the town.

This led us to the beach, which has a long prom (tiddly om pom pom)

with the tourist office at one end.

Selo duly obtained, we headed for our hotel, the Meira.

By this stage we’d covered 21km – somewhat longer than we’d expected – and so were glad that, for I think the first time this trip, we’d arrived after check-in time and so were certain that our room would be available. Once in the room, our main priority was, of course, a cup of tea and a bit of a relax. After a while I went out with the drone because – joy of joys – this is a place where flying is not restricted. My main object of interest was a small fort that is right on the beach, not too far from our hotel. It looked an interesting shape and I wanted to be able to capture it in an aerial photo.

It looks small and cute, and perhaps a bit artificial, but actually is part of a chain of coastal fortifications built to strengthen the defence of the Minho area and northern Portuguese coast against Spain. Although it is often associated with the Portuguese Restoration War (1640–1668), the evidence indicates that the fort itself was not yet built in 1668. It was probably constructed around 1700 during the reign of Pedro II. The defensive forts along this coast included, inter alia, the Forte da Areosa, near Viana do Castelo, whence we’d departed earlier; it was that fort which gave the Castelo name to Viana. Truly, it’s the fort that counts.

Anyhoo, I did a video as well, of course.

Unusually for us, we had dinner as opposed to a late lunch, mainly because we have a very short walk in front of us tomorrow and so can be very relaxed about when we start. The hotel restaurant has closed, as it’s after the season, but the receptionist recommended a nearby restaurant called Fonte Nova, so we went there. We had a decent meal – the local version of fish and chips, which is very tasty and comes with rice and salad as well – served at a great pace by the manager who was running the place single-handedly and very affably. We did note one apparently quite forceful exchange, though, with someone (blue shirt) who came in for a short while.

Money changed hands and blue shirt left; we have no idea what was going on there.

Today has been another really enjoyable day on the Caminho; great weather (the brutal heat of previous days has cooled to low-to-mid 20s), some chatting, some solitude, some drone flying. As I say, the morrow should be quite relaxed, as we only have about 9km to cover to get to Carminha, our next destination. However, for the first time since we left Lisbon, there is the prospect of some rain – not too much we hope. So we’ll keep an eye on the forecast and plan our day accordingly. Stay tuned to find out if we got soaked, why don’t you?

Day 29 – Estrada to Viana do Castelo: Shortish walk, full-on day

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Friday 25 September 2026 – Another Long Post Alert!!

The observant among you will notice that we finished up yesterday in Ponte de Lima, but yet today’s entry starts from Estrada. This is because, having spent some time on the Central Caminho (mainly so we could see a lot of cocks in Barcelos), we have now decamped to the Coastal Caminho. Apart from giving us a chance to sample the different looks and feels of Litoral, Coastal and Central Caminhos, this gives us a chance to see something that is of a fair significance in the context of the Portuguese Way. That thing is in Castelo do Neiva,and I suppose we could have just taken a ride directly there. There were times today when I wish we’d done just that, but, whatever, Jane had selected the village of Estrada for our start point, about 25km to the south-west of Ponte de Lima as the crow flies. As the Uber car drives, though, it’s about 32km. From that starting point, our walk was about 15km and the forecast was for a nice day – about 23°C at most, and sunny – so we treated ourselves to a hotel breakfast and our Uber dropped us off at the temporarily closed Pizzeria Monica just before 9am. It was a misty morning

and, frankly, a chilly start, with the mist not making things feel any warmer. But we got going and it was almost immediately clear that we would find a different vibe on this trail than we’d had on the Central Caminho – there were many more pilgrims on the trail and a lot more items of Caminho infrastructure in place.

Shortly after we started, we reached the Caminho Marking Stone,

which is in some ways, I suppose, the Portuguese equivalent of the Cruz de Ferro, the Iron Cross on the Camino Francés. It’s not the highest point, like the Iron Cross is, but it does serve as a place for pilgrims to put markers, wishes, prayers and so forth.

As well as more pilgrims, another difference from the Central route that we’d walked was the larger amount of walking on woodland trails. On the Francés, it’s fashionable to be sniffy about being reduced to walking on tarmac roads, but we’d become used to it on much of our Portuguese walking thus far. In theory, it’s nice to walk in woodland, but the trails can be very much more tricky underfoot than tarmac or boardwalk.

So we stumbled along, up and down these trails for a while, until after a particuarly sharp downhill stretch we were suddenly alongside a river.

I think the stepping stones you see in this photo were once the Caminho route, but the waymarks took us to a proper bridge, the Ponte do Sebastião, to cross the river.

Immediately after crossing on the bridge, we came across a couple of good examples of the increased Caminho infrastructure that marked out today’s walking.

The first was this eye-catching advert for an albergue a little further along the path. The second was a lady who had parked halfway up quite a steep path and who was offering refreshments on a donativo basis.

Among her offerings was a particularly sweet persimmon that she cut for us so we could share it as we walked. The path continued up. And up. Because we had to visiit The Thing that provoked our switch to the Coastal trail; and it was still quite high above us. First, though, we passed the albergue which had constructed that advert we saw earlier.

The Thing was the church you see, perched high on a hill in this photo.

It’s the Santiago Church of Castelo de Neiva, and it was up quite a steep path. Now you might understand why I might have preferred it as our Uber drop off point. But I suppose some degree of suffering is part of the Authentic Pilgrim Experience, so toiling uphill it was, then. One can at least pause en route, a few metres short of the church, to admire the Santiago niche,

draw breath and then press on to the church, which is an attractive one, built in very much the vernacular for the area.

(On a parenthetical note, just by the church is this bas relief:

It represents the three children whose visions of the Virgin Mary at Fatima in 1917 were the basis for building the Basilica there; so this site is also on one of the Fatima Caminho routes, even though the two Caminhos are not related at all.)

The Santiago Church

features, as one might expect, quite a lot of representations of the Saint.

Painting on the wall to the left of the altar
Carving in the Altar Piece
Stained glass window

The reason the church is important in the context of the Portuguese Way is embedded in one of the walls of the church.

These stones were discovered during a restoration of the church. They show an ancient 9th-century Latin inscription and a sign detailing the consecration of the Igreja de Santiago de Castelo de Neiva in Portugal, which took place in the year 862. This establishes the early importance and credibility of the Coastal route of the Way of St. James in Portugal in the face of a certain sniffiness on the part of those who believe (or wish to establish) that the Central route is the true way to go!

Oh, and there was a caff there. We were only a few kilometres into the walk, but a coffee stop seemed the right thing to do. A few other pilgrims were resting there, too.

Having walked all the way up there, we also, of course, got the benefit of a decent view over the surrounding countryside.

The rest of the walk was lovely. The sun had risen to dispel the early chill from the mist, and it made for pleasant walking, as did the general scenery.

A traditional, stone-framed espiguero

The first stork’s nest we’d seen on this trip

Vast amounts of Morning Glory…

…which this farmer was trying to combat with vats of weed killer

Adverts for albergues were very common on this stretch

and there were a couple of Caminho Pop-ups, providing refreshments and selos.

As we approached Viana do Castelo, we passed an impressive looking monastery and church – São Romão do Neiva.

There was construction work going on; it’ll be lovely when it’s finished. There was a Caminho innovation nearby

offering all sorts of things that might help the Pilgrim In Need (not just chocolate bars and water, but also plasters, electrolytes, rain gear – and Durex!). Opposite the monastery was the Capela da Senhora do Crasto, though getting to the Capela was a bit challenging,

and I considered taking it on

for only the briefest period.

We passed another Santiago church

the Igreja Matriz da Paróquia de São Tiago de Vila Nova de Anha. The keen of eye will already have spotted the brilliant white St. James in his niche under the cross, but Jane spotted something else as well.

In the stained glass window, we see Santiago Matamoros, or Saint James the Moor-slayer, the legendary warrior representation of James, depicted as a knight on a white horse helping Christian armies defeat the Moors. This was the first time we’d seen this representation of St. James in this country. The legend says he miraculously appeared on a white horse with a raised sword during the mythical Battle of Clavijo in 844 AD to help King Ramiro I defeat Muslim forces. Historians agree that the battle and the miraculous intervention never happened; the story and imagery were invented centuries later during the medieval expansion of Christian kingdoms. Marketing, in short.

We were nearing Viana do Castelo, but first we had a final hill to climb – quite a steep one.

Of course, we got the benefit of great views as we breasted the rise,

and I also had a schoolboy grin at a signpost.

We could see Viana do Castelo, and shortly we could also see one of its best-known landmarks;

its iron bridge. We would have to cross that to get to our hotel.

The route down was, in places, steep and tricky, but then led to the road into the town and towards the bridge; and we could see another significant landmark, too;

high above the town is the Basilica of Santa Luzia. Impressive as it looks, I decided there and then that I wasn’t prepared to walk up to it.

The bridge, then.

The 563m long Eiffel Bridge is a double-deck iron bridge that spans the Lima River. Opened in 1878, it was designed by the firm of French engineer Gustave Eiffel (years before he built the eponymous Tower in Paris) to replace an earlier wooden bridge. The lower deck carries the Minho railway line while the upper deck serves car traffic, cyclists, and pedestrians.

Our hotel, the engagingly-titled Chocolate Factory,

was but a short walk from the bridge. It operated as a chocolate factory from 1914 for a century, but the building fell into disrepair when the company owning it moved on. It has since been redeveloped as a rather lovely boutique hotel. They don’t manufacture chocolate there any more, but they do do some final production work and sell chocolate in their own shop.

Our room was available, so we headed up for an immediate cup of tea to help us plan the rest of our time here, for Viana do Castelo is an interesting place. It was founded in 1258 by King Afonso III as a fishing settlement, flourished during the Age of Discoveries – its shipyards built vessels used in Atlantic exploration – and grew wealthy in the 16th-17th centuries through trade with Newfoundland (cod fishing) and colonial Brazil. In the 19th century the name was modified to distinguish it from many other Vianas, with “Castelo” referring to the 16th century Forte de Santiago da Barra, originally built in the late 16th century under Spanish Habsburg rule of Portugal to defend the harbour entrance.

Having set my face firmly against walking up to the Basilica, I was delighted when Jane told me that there was a funicular railway to take people up the hill; so we included that and the Cathedral as Things We Must See, and we went for a walk. Obviously. The town itself is handsome;

we passed the Igreja das Almas (Church of the Souls), which was the city’s first parish church

and has a Eucharistic Throne.

Honestly, you can’t move without stumbling across a Eucharistic Throne in these here parts.

We decided that we should make visiting the Basilica a priority – provided that the funicular was working and that it hadn’t had the same fate as others after the Lisbon disaster. So we walked out to it; it has a charming base station

which is managed very firmly by a lady who marshals people with great energy and charm; for there was a queue; not a long one, but enough to fill the confines of this very small base station.

Above the ticket office was a delightful azulejo of the Basilica.

One could peer up the line to see the car depart or arrive

The funicular, or The Elevador de Santa Luzia, to give its proper name, is rather more than a tourist lift: it was part of Viana do Castelo’s early-20th-century ambition to develop Monte de Santa Luzia as a destination in its own right. It started operation over a hundred years ago and is a very impressive piece of engineering. It climbs 160 metres over about 650 metres, with an average gradient of roughly 25%. Two cars operate as counterweights to one another: the descending car helps pull the ascending one, with the two meeting halfway.

Its 650-metre course makes it Portugal’s longest funicular. It takes about seven minutes from bottom to top, and debouches just beow the Basilica, which is a breathtaking building.

The building was constructed between 1904 and 1959 and is a striking blend of Neo-Byzantine, Neo-Romanesque, and Gothic revival elements, heavily inspired by the Sacré-Cœur Basilica in Paris. It boasts the largest rose windows on the Iberian peninsula.

It wasn’t immediately possible to take lots of photos inside because there was a service going on, so we passed the time looking at the fabulous views over the city from the height of the Basilica.

Eventually we were able to walk around inside and get an eyeful of the interior.

I was particularly taken with this altar,

not because of the detail of the carving, which is exquisite, but because of the light playing on it from one of the three rose windows.

After we got back to the city, we took an early dinner in the Republic Square, where we had our first taste of franceshina, an utterly over the top take on a cheese and ham toastie invented in Porto, with added beef and sausage and served in a pool of spicy sauce. It was delicious, but gave us some insight into why there are so many people of ample girth in this country. After eating we wanted to visit the Cathedral, but there was, would you believe it, a service going on, so we couldn’t see inside it. We went back later, but they’d closed early. Grrrr!

Maybe we can see the inside tomorrow. We have to get to Ancora, which is either 16km or 19km away depending on whom you believe. We have another pleasant, sunny day in prospect, so there’s no rush to get out too early and I’m looking forward to another enjoyable day’s walking.