March 26 & 27: Blue Coast, blue sky (Oia & Baiona)

Today was a serene, blue day. Warm, sunny paths between a susurrating sea and shady foothills, lined with buttercups. Early on, we passed a medieval lobster “farm”, a sort of stone “corral” in the tidal zone. Carey went flying across it. Despite much dawdling, we arrived at our rest top at lunchtime and settled down in a nearby café-bar, on their seaside terrace, for beer and tapas.

The peacefulness, even blissfulness, of today’s walk gives space to comment on yesterday, which post got hijacked with musings.

We walked to the medieval town of Caminha. After a coffee in its wide, picturesque town square, we took the “ferry” to Spain. The “ferry” was, what I called in my diving days, a “zodiac” – a sturdy dinghy with powerful outboard. Our ferryman was a grizzled, companionable Spaniard with twenty words in as many languages. He skidded us across the water, six at a time. We were playfully clad in “life vests” of dubious efficacy, but serious orangeness. He presented us with a sunhat from his sponsors and waved us on our way.

We could tell we were in Spain immediately: the signage, the path quality, the generally brisque, more purposeful pace… We had only 4km to A Guarda, uphill through eucalyptus plantations to the other side of the headland, but we felt the difference. Our hotel was a former convent, charming, cool, with its own museum and 16th Century tiles in the breakfast room.

We arrived at Baiona early afternoon, following another lovely day hugging a blue, breezy Atlantic, along a rocky coast, punctuated with pebble coves. We have a rest day in Baiona tomorrow, not least because we decided to splurge on a stay at a Parador.

Approaching the city, a great stone wall rises from, and encircles, the promontory, under which nestles an expansive lagoon of a marina, full of expensive-looking yachts. This is the fortified (and perfectly maintained) Monterreal Castle, palace of the Count of Gondomar, now the Parador hotel. As we walked up the mount, we passed the hermitage, which they are currently restoring. The site has yielded Roman, Celtic and Pheonician archeology. The current fortress as built in the 12th Century and expanded in the 16th.

The hotel has the feel of a monastery. The walls are decked with original works by 20th Century Spanish painters. The architecture is clean: wood, plaster and square, well-mitred stone, with courtyards and fountains.

We may have washed out clothes in the bath, but I wanted us to have a “proper” historical experience, as we did on the Français. As it turns out, our stay in A Guarda was in a former convent, so we did get that, although we had little (none) in Portugal.

As I write, we are sitting in our simple, large room, sharing a table of olives, cheese, bread and tomato jam, with a decent Rioja (from the Froizo Supermarket), with the sun lengthening through our window. Sometimes it’s hard to be a pilgrim. Sometimes, not so much.