Category Archives: Walking

Day 24 – Porto (well, Matosinhos) to Vila do Conde: hot, but good

Sunday 20 September 2026 – The 11km of the Caminho from Porto to Matosinhos have two disadvantages: they’re very dull walking; and they would make for a 33km stage to Vila do Conde, today’s destination. It’s possible to get from Porto to Matosinhos by public transport, but it takes nearly an hour, and, with temperatures once again rising into the 30s, we wanted to get started early, so Uber it was, then, at 0630 from the hotel (having taken a foraged bread-roll-and-banana breakfast in our room), and we were walking before 7am, over the river by the docks at Matosinhos.

The day had a much more “Camino” feel about it. Immediately we got out of the Uber, a lady peregrina came by; she was German, but living in Sweden, and strode out ahead of us. The first corner shop we came to had this in the window

and we saw several peregrinos during the day.

As you can see from the gallery above, we spent virtually the whole day on a boardwalk which starts just outside Matosinhos and extends most of the way to Vila do Conde. At first, though, we walked along the prom, tiddly om pom pom,

past the lighthouse and an artwork that had some kind of pretentious title I couldn’t be bothered to note.

Then the boardwalk started

and stretched virtually unbroken to our destination. It was actually broken in a couple of places, but it’s fundamentally over 15km of planking and posts, which is a significant amount of wood and a vast number of screws to hold it down. These boardwalks (passadiços) along the Senda Litoral route were built by municipal governments during the late 2000s and 2010s. They were created primarily as a soft-engineering project to prevent human foot traffic from destroying fragile coastal sand dunes and native vegetation, while simultaneously establishing safe public seaside pathways. While the Senda Litoral is an unofficial variant of the Portuguese Coastal Way rather than a medieval religious path, local councils welcomed pilgrims onto these corridors as a scenic, flat, and car-free alternative to walking the dangerous tarmac national roads out of Porto.

As the sun came up, we passed a chapel

the Capella da Boa Nova (Chapel of the new snake?). Despite the sun, there was a delicious sea mist which kept things cool for quite some way.

The boardwalk leads past the vast great Petrogal oil refinery,

and the powers that be have put various diversions along it – infoboards, exercise stations,

resting places

and the odd occasional nugget about the Caminho.

The above nugget was starkly at odds with a pilgrim office we visited further along the boardwalk

which itself was at odds with the waymark outside the cathedral which made the distance (you remember, of course) 248km. So, who knows? Not us – until we get there, when you can rest assured that I will update you on the amount we did walk, as well as the amount we should have.

Our previous experience of walking in the wilds of Portugal on a Sunday was of cafés and restaurants that were closed because it was Sunday. I’d been hoping that today, since we were basically walking along the beach through holiday resort villages, there would be places open where we could stop and get refreshment. For once, my optimism was rewarded.

At just over 5km, our qualifying distance, this place appeared beside the boardwalk. It wasn’t immediately obvious whether it was open, but we peered in and it was. By this stage, my breakfast had worn off and I was quite peckish, and Jane had the bright idea that we should order torrada (toast and butter) with our coffee, which was a stroke of genius. We got mountains of toasted local bread, butter and quince jam, accompanied by decent, hot, coffee, and it made a wonderful second breakfast. The chap who served us had a permanently harrassed expression on his face, and by the time we left it was justified, as lots of people started drifting in for their Sunday breakfasts; once again our timing was very fortunate.

The boardwalk runs by the sea, past opportunities for people to fish

and some nice little beaches, where we found that people were already set up for the day.

There was also an item of a bit more pith and moment – the Memorial Monument.

The obelisk marks the spot where the Liberal Wars (you remember them, don’t you? Of course you do!) effectively began. On 8 July 1832, a fleet organised in the Azores and commanded by King Peter IV landed an army of about 7,500 men on this beach, aiming to replace the absolutist rule of Peter’s younger brother Miguel with a modern liberal regime. The landing caught the absolutist forces by surprise, since they had expected an attack from Lisbon, and the liberals then marched on Porto, where they withstood a siege from Miguel’s forces lasting about a year. Peter IV won the day with help from the British (go, us!).

There were a couple of breaks in the boardwalk; at one stage a barrier was up and we wondered how serious its prohibition was.

Quite serious, it turned out.

But there were roads nearby to navigate around this breakage.  There was another one later on, which was a bit more serious

and which involved walking through soft sand for a short while, which is not rewarding in sandals. Doing this, we passed a guy who, again, seemed to be setting himself up for a day there.

Was his guitar to entertain himself, other beach users, or to try to busk for money? We’ll never know.

The boardwalk gave way to a more conventional centre as we passed though the fishing village of Angeiras

where there was an entirely inexplicable construction:

the Crypto Content Creator Campus was just a shack with a couple of old ladies gossiping outside it – unless, of course, they were the Crypto Content Creators…

There were various opportunities for coffee/refreshment stops, and we took up on one about every 5km. The last one was in a rather shonky, but very friendly, bar on the outskirts of Vila do Conde

where the blokes were in a back room playing pool. The coffee there was pretty terrible, but we had a beer each, which was much needed, as by this time the temperature was getting on for 30°C and we were getting very hot. From this point, we left the boardwalk and used the roads in the hope that we could find some shade; there was some available, and it was very welcome.

Before reaching the town of Vila do Conde itself, we walked a couple of kilometres through a nature reserve,

and then re-emerged onto the roads into the edge of the municipality of Azurara, which edges Vila do Conde and is a handsome place.

The church of Santa Maria de Azurara, with the Manueline style Wayside Cross outside it…

…and its pillory

The road then took us towards the town of Vila do Conde itself, which we had to reach by crossing the river. It looked at first as though the town had its own small nuclear reactor

but it’s actually a chapel, more on which later.

The bridge gives a good view of the town

and the enormous monastery and church of Santa Clara, also more of which later.

First, we had to walk through the streets of the very attractive town

to find our hotel, the Hotel Brazão, which we did eventually. By this stage, the temperature was 33°C and we were very happy to have a glass of something cold in the hotel bar whilst we waited for our room to come available. Then we had to find some lunch; with several restaurants allegedly open until 3pm, this seemed an easy task, but the first two we tried turned us away. In the end, we came upon the Cafe Patarata

where a harrassed but very competent madame bade us sit whilst she dashed about getting food to all the other people in the place. We had a really delightful meal there, although she committed the cardinal sin of making a port-and-tonic with red port.

Back at the hotel, we rested for a while and then went for a walk. Obviously. We wanted to explore that really interesting nuclear reactor chapel

but sadly it was not really open to look inside; we learned from a notice in the town that there was a local dignitary’s lying-in-state after he’d died – funeral tomorrow, so we didn’t go in; but the walk around gave us a chance to see a few other things and appreciate the age and status of the town.

Vila do Conde sits at the mouth of the Ave river. Human settlement here goes back to the pre-Roman hillfort (castro) culture, and the Romans later used the area for its river and coast. The name, “Count’s Town”, is traditionally tied to Afonso Sanches, an illegitimate son of King Dinis. He and his wife Teresa Martins Telo founded the Monastery of Santa Clara here in 1318, and the town grew around it.

Its golden age was the 16th century, when it became a major shipbuilding centre during the Age of Discoveries. That legacy is visible in a full-size replica of a 16th-century nau (carrack) built at the old shipyard.

The Manueline portal of the Igreja Matriz (parish church) dates from this period,

(We looked into the church, but a service was about to start, so I just got a grab shot of the interior.)

Later landmarks and traditions include the Santa Clara aqueduct, an enormous structure of nearly 1,000 arches built in the 18th century to supply the monastery,

and a strong bobbin-lace (rendas de bilros) tradition. There’s a statue just outside where we had lunch to mark this tradition

There’s a very handsome town square – you can just see some more arches of the aqueduct in the background.

Near the replica ship is the King João II square, which hosts several items of interest, including a huge sculpture which is called a sun dial,

but, impressive as it is, it’s not usable as such. Other statues in the park celebrate various aspects of the town’s considerable history.

That, then, was our day – a long and eventually hot one, but enjoyable and interesting. Tomorrow we stray off the Litoral route that we’ve followed today and hack across country to join the Central route at Rates. Apparently the waymarks for this transition have been removed to try to focus people’s minds on sticking to one or other routes, but we’re sticking two fingers up to this mindset and finding our own way across. It’s not a long walk – maybe 13km or so – so despite high temperatures again being forecast for the day we probably won’t have to start out in the dark. With luck we’ll find our way OK, in which case I’ll be able to regale you with tales of our (i.e. Jane’s) navigational skills. Wish us luck!

Day 21 – Grijó to Porto: Light duties

Thursday 17 September 2026 – With only 13km to cover today, we had once again the luxury of a leisurely departure from the very pleasant Couto Rural. Lourdes had prepared a decent breakfast for us (we didn’t tell her about the extra yoghurt we’d bought in the supermarket and consumed furtively pre-breakfast in our room) and was prepared to drive us out to the Caminho trail, which was delightful of her. But we walked – it was only just over 1km, and it was a lovely morning. You can tell from the length of our shadows that the sun had well risen by the time we got under way.

There seems to be a Hispanic way of doing electrical wiring that looks slightly dodgy to our UK eyes – here, in Spain and in South America one sees coils of wire festooning the electricity poles. It generally seems to work OK, though, but we did see one very interesting take on wiring continuity.

The walk carried on for a while through pleasant neighbourhoods

one of which featured a coffee stop. We hadn’t gone our usual qualifying distance of 5km, but since we had a leisurely schedule for the day, we looked in for a cup of meia de leite.

It was one of those places where the town bore was holding forth at great length and volume.

The neighbourhood of Perosinho has a small but well-formed church

and a substantial espiguero (handy for storing stuff), just by the bins (handy for throwing stuff away).

The word espigueiro means “cob store”. Its root is the Portuguese word espiga, which means an ear of corn, or a cob. They are traditional granaries built to store and dry corn as well as other crops such as wheat, rye, and barley. One of the houses in the neighbourhood had a rather cute letterbox to match.

After about 3km, we turned off tarmac onto a track which is another stretch of Roman road;

the guard cats let us through eventually. It’s rather better surfaced than the stretch we walked yesterday.

We had, then, about 4km of pleasant woodland track, through which sometimes the Roman surface showed through and sometimes it didn’t.

We passed a waymark which we’d seen a lot of.

The blue arrow is the sign for the Caminho de Fatima, just as the yellow one is for Santiago, but we wondered what the JO meant that we’d seen a few times elsewhere. The JO is short for Jornada, an accepted day stage on one of the various routes that lead from various places in Portugal to Fatima. The Santiago and Fatima Caminho trails coincide in a lot of places, but there’s no formal connection between the two. What we’ve been seeing is the waymarking for the Northern Route of the Fatima Caminho.

The track passes an adventure playground

where people can indulge in paintballing and such. There are also elevated pathways among the trees; whether one is allowed to launch aerial paintball attacks, I don’t know.

The track led us over a hill, and the downward continuation was a bit tricky in parts

but otherwise it was a very pleasant  interlude in the walk, which I had expected to be entirely on roads and through suburbs. All good things must come to an end, and so we eventually came to “civilisation” at the other end of the woodland

and walked down and over a bridge into a busy suburb of Porto.

I’ve circled in red the point where the woodland track came to an end.

From this point, the walk was simply a largely gentle downhill stroll on the streets through Vila Nova de Gaia, the suburb of Porto south of the river. There are plenty of bars and cafés, so we stopped a couple of times more before we got to our hotel, since we were in no hurry.

One of the underpasses we walked through had been nicely decorated

and we found a bit of branding reuse that I doubt the filmmakers would sanction.

We were on Avenida da Republica, a major thoroughfare, leading directly down to the river; a tram service operates along the middle of it,

and some of the buildings by its side have been decorated.

Vila Nova de Gaia has an impressive town hall

and there’s another distinguished-looking building nearby, Casa Barbot, which is the HQ of the Vila Nova de Gaia department of heritage, culture and tourism.

It is, we read, the only example of Art Nouveau in Vila Nova de Gaia.

Near the river is a park, from which you can see the very imposing monastery Mosteiro da Serra do Pilar

which, going by the number of people in front of it, offers a commanding view over the river. The park itself offers a pretty decent view, but there are enough things that get in the way to make it difficult to get an overall picture of what is a very attractive waterfront. There is one spot from which one can construct a panorama; it really is a delightful view.

Also delightful was the fact that our hotel was right there.

So strictly speaking, we’re in Vila Nova de Gaia, not in Porto, which begins on the other side of the river. We went in to their reception area which looks dead posh

but which actually smelt not a little of drains. Our room wasn’t yet available, and so we went to the hotel restaurant for a spot of (surprisingly reasonably-priced) lunch, which we took on a terrace with a fantastic view over the river

although conversation had to pause occasionally when a train went over the bridge. This is the Ponte Luis I bridge, a double-deck affair spanning the Douro river; the upper level is pedestrian and metro and connects directly to Porto city centre;  the lower level links to the waterfront and carries vehicular traffic and pedestrians.

The hotel itself is a remarkable creation. The reception, at the upper level of the bridge, is on the 14th floor (of 15 – I think the top floor is reserved for very expensive suites) and the restaurant on the 10th. Intervening floors have various bars, and below the restaurant are the floors with the hotel bedrooms – we’re on the 6th floor, for example, and have a pretty similar view to the photo above. This might be rather convenient – the hotel lifts can get us from upper to lower bridge level without having to walk up all those tedious hills.

After lunch our room had become ready and so we settled in. I popped off to do some laundry – these things are important, y’know – in a nearby laundrette which was very well-equipped and easy to use. And we have two full days to experience Porto, starting with a guided tour tomorrow morning. I must say, I’m rather looking forward to looking around.

Day 20 – From Malaposta to Grijó: Espigueiro Special

Wednesday 16 September 2026 – Breakfast was officially served from 0730, so we were up, packed and dropped our bags at reception such that we could get there promptly. A suspiciously large number of people appeared to be very well through their breakfasts, so perhaps they started early. No matter – we weren’t in a rush. It was a workmanlike breakfast rather than anything fancy, but it fuelled us up and allowed us to be on our way shortly after 8am, headed for Grijó, some 15km away.

We started along the (very) busy N1, but very soon branched off on Roman Road Road.

It passed a few houses, one of which looked un-nervingly like Darth Vader,

but soon gave way to a rougher track.

This was nice and straight, as one would expect with a Roman road, but its surface hadn’t weathered as well as the spectacularly smooth Via Cassia that we experienced in Italy when we walked the Via Francigena; I could have roller skated on that, but I would hesitate even to ride a mountain bike over this surface.

Barely one kilometre after leaving the N1 we were passing a very rural scene

and also a very typically Portuguese one – a once-handsome but now entirely abandoned building.

This is even marked on Google maps – the ruins of Quinta da Fonte Nova.

To our UK eyes, all these abandoned buildings seem like something of an eyesore, perhaps because if you are in an area in the UK with a lot of abandoned buildings you may well be in quite a bit of danger. Here in rural (or even semi-rural) Portugal, where there is no pressure on living space, if for some reason a building stops being used, it is just left there, and new building might carry on around it. It makes no logical sense to knock it down; one might as well wait for someone else to buy the site and do with it what they will. But to us it makes the place look scruffy, which is not a fair judgement on our part.

The walk itself was perfectly pleasant, but unremarkable except perhaps in the number of potential coffee stops on offer. We’re nearing Porto and making our way through connected conurbations, so an increase in the number of cafés, pastelarias and padarias (bakeries) is only to be expected. I shall be interested to see how the coffee stop landscape works out once we get into more popular Caminho territory north of Porto. Anyway, there’s little point in my telling you a litany of the places we passed through; here are some items we noted in various places as we walked.

There were several alminhas, such as these

Santiago – St. James

although the last one is a bit large to be an alminha; perhaps it’s an alma? As well as these, there were a couple of chapels, one of which was open, so we looked in briefly.

There’s old Santiago himself on the left

A couple of churches were noteworthy. This one, the Capela de Santa Rita, was marvellously tiled.

This one, the Parish Church of Vergada, was a very modern construction,

and this one, the Capela de Nossa Senhora da Divina Providência

is local to our accommodation here in Grijó. Like many others, it has the loudspeakers on stalks for broadcasting chimes. But something has gone badly wrong with the sound system. We could hear it from our accommodation:

Why it has one “bell” out of tune and one (occasionally) missing, I can’t understand, since this is being played through speakers and is not a real carillon. It’s amusing nonetheless.

(The chime, which we heard played by automated church bells in several places as we walked, is fundamentally a simplified, abbreviated sequence of the “Avé de Fátima” (“A 13 de Maio”), a hymn written about the miraculous appearance of the Virgin Mary to three children in Fatima on May 13th, 1917. Instead of playing the entire verse, electronic parish bell systems isolate only the most recognizable refrain. The Fatima Basilica, a popular pilgrimage destination in Portugal, has a carillon of 64 bells specifically cast to be able to play this tune.)

As well as the ghastly Darth Vader house, there were other, more handsome, places to be seen.

The house above had an art-deco touch that we saw in other places – bas-relief figures on the walls.

According to AI, these are not uncommon in the area and are supposed to represent spirits, or some such.

Another nice art deco work was this water tower.

I’m not sure whether it was just to supply the town at large or just the (largely abandoned) factory where it stood.

There were some abandoned buildings which would once have been handsome places

The white house calls itself “Casa Grande”; I wonder how it feels about its rather larger pink neighbour?

Simply wonderful Morning Glory climbing all over this one

A particularly sad case was this lovely tiling

which is now part of a mere façade.

One town seemed to specialise in selling religious (and other) statuary.

Inside one of the shops

A walk on the Caminho wouldn’t be complete without a Santiago statue, of course.

The recognition of pilgrims seems to be increasing as we head north. Many people now wish us “bom viaje” as we go rather than just “bom dia”; and in one case the driver of a thundering great – articulated trailer! – lorry

stopped (ignoring the fact that by doing so he caused a traffic jam) when he noticed we’d left the official Caminho and wanted to put us right; we were able to reassure him that we were just heading to our accommodation, but it was a lovely gesture on his part.

A lot of places had espigueros and I was interested to see the variety of shapes, sizes and methods of access.

Some had a door at the side, some at the end. All the ones we saw seemed in good condition, albeit not necessarily in use, reflecting their status. Like horreos in Spain, they are protected as a cultural asset and can’t be removed or significantly changed; any repairs must be with traditional materials.

This top-heavy, wooden contruction is typical of the area south of Porto, because granite is in short supply; these are coastal-variant espigueiros, commonly known as canastros or caniços. Being wider at the top boosts upward airflow to dry corn quickly in the humid coastal climate; and the angled wooden walls and overhanging tiled roofs shed heavy coastal rain away from the grain. The inverted angle makes it difficult for rodents to climb up the sides, though some of them were also sited on top of toadstool shapes to make the rodents’ job more difficult still.

There was a lavadouro – a public laundry space

which, since a nearby plaque asserted that it had been recertified in 2022, one could infer was still in use.

At one stage there was a loud siren kind of noise. It seemed to come from a car, which stopped and its owners got out and started rummaging around in the back.

There was a lot of polystyrene packaging in the van, and so I guess this must be some kind of mobile shop.

One chap was making his way by horse and cart, something we hadn’t seen before in Portugal.

We had taken coffee (OK, two coffees. And pastries.) in Vergada, which was about halfway along our route, and we had no particular plans to stop again, despite the (relative) profusion of opportunities. However, we came across this series of signs.

and decided that it would be rude not to look in.

It was the Forninho do Mosteiro, a nice place, but desperately warm in direct sunshine.

Jane got her selo, and I got my beer.

The Mosteiro it refers to is the Monastery of San Salvador at Grijó. The Caminho runs between it and a very large and posh-looking cemetery.

We took a look at the monastery buildings

and their rather nicely done modern take on the Madonna and Child

but the monastery itself was closed so we could look no further. By this stage we were close to our accommodation, which lies about a kilometre off the Caminho. We arrived at the Couto Rural and at first I feared that we would have the quite usual situation of somewhere being locked and deserted and wondering what to do next,

but Jane rang the bell and our luck was in, as was the owner, a lovely lady called Lourdes, who invited us in and plied us with beer whilst we sorted out the details of our booking and breakfast needs. Our bags had arrived and Lourdes showed us to our accommodation, which had a nice kitchen area

which suited us well. The nearest restaurant that Lourdes considered suitable was about 20 minutes walk away; but there’s a supermarket closer, so we walked to that and got ourselves healthy stuff like yoghurt, fruit and salady bits.

Couto Rural is a splendid little conglomeration of different rooms and accommodation options,

and it even has its own – very imposing – espigueiro.

We are well ensconced and readying ourselves for the final walk into Porto tomorrow. It’s a short walk – the shortest so far – and the temperature isn’t forecast to rise above 25°C, so we can be leisurely about our start. I’m not sure whether there’s much to report about the walk into Porto (the 20th stage of our 37-stage Caminho), except that it goes up quite a long way before it goes down again. Anyway, stay tuned and you’ll see how we get on.