Day 5: Geese are better than seagulls

Hotel de Parque had a pool that was nice at the end of Day 4, but the real treat was the breakfast. For less than $50 i had a room, a private shower, and breakfast! The coffee was abundant, the croissant delicioso, the fruit ripe, and the eggs fresh. I left for the morning walk with mutia energia.

As always, the first steps led to the coastline, which was a surprise and benefit considering that as I entered the town the night before, there was a massive church building high on the hill. Churches are usually signs of where the way will lead. This meant an outrageous morning climb, but instead the Coastal route invites pilgrims to appreciate the building from below as the route winds around with views of three sides of the Cathedral. 

The first day of walking the Coast out of Porto sucked - that’s the only blog appropriate word I can use to describe the experience. There were several moments when I wanted to depart the Way and do something else. It was commercial, loud, alongside traffic, and boring. But on Day 4 of walking, the coast turned glorious. Ocean on the left; mountains on the right. I found a fort with a beautiful doorway. Once a pilgrim enters, there are steps to the top of the wall with magnificent ocean views. I wish I had a hammock for a rest. Imagine swinging in the ocean breeze with the sound of waves crashing into the rocks. Pure delight.

Shortly after the fort, I saw my first snail crossing the way. I had seen shells of snails on days prior, but not an authentic pilgrim snail like this one that was crossing the road. I crouched down to take a photo and have a short conversation (that’s punny). She told me a joke, and I laughed for the next 500 meters: 

“Why did the snail cross the way?” 

I honestly didn’t know the answer, so I quizzically paused for the response.

“To tell the pilgrim to walk slow.” 

I am slowing down. After talking with the snail, I put on my headphones for the first time and listened to David Whyte (David Whyte). I began with “The Poetry of Self Compassion” but the Himalayan metaphors and geography seemed too distant, so I turned to “What to Remember When Waking” where he rehearses his own poetry, as well as Mary Oliver and Dante. 

Today was short, and we enjoyed a long break at a beautiful cafe, Areia. I removed my pack and revealed that my pores are pipelines for sweat. The cafe had music, too, and Roo Panes was their Spotify choice for the hour. It was super chill. I asked Pat and Mary Beth if I could share a poem given the beatnik atmosphere, and they obliged (#Grateful). I recited “Wild Geese” from Oliver with the Whyte repetitive cadence, “you only, you only…. We could be here until 11pm saying “you only” and it would be worth the night…” I didn’t actually say all of that but simply recited the poem. They thought it profound; it is a good poem.

Then we discussed how we appreciate/avoid poetry. Pat mentioned a poet he heard on a TED Talk who writes about the Camino and his niece’s experience. I jumped and said, “that’s David Whyte!”

We laughed at another curious connection, and Mary Beth joyfully rolled her eyes at the moment. 

We finished our Cafe con Leche and continued on our way. Mary Beth and I walked together for a bit sharing stories of life. We were walking alongside fields and away from the coast. I was grateful for the candor and always feel grateful when someone shares their own story or receives one of mine. It was a good few miles that got us to back to the coastline where I took a brief sit to eat my sandwich that I had made at the epic breakfast. I’m not sure ham, cheese, hard boiled egg, and a croissant ever tasted so good!

We entered the town of our destination and joined the wedding processional at the town parish. Somehow the seagulls knew the procession was about to happen and joined the music with their squawking and hollering. (I am so glad Oliver selected the Celtic imagination of geese rather than the beachside imagination of seagulls for “calling us into the family of things.”) 

Indeed, seagulls or geese….on the Camino and throughout the world, enjoy Mary Oliver’s poem….

You do not have to walk on your knees

for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.

You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves.

Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.

Meanwhile the world goes on.

Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain

are moving across the landscapes,

over the prairies and the deep trees,

the mountains and the rivers.

Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,

are heading home again.

Whoever you are, no matter

  how lonely,

the world offers itself 

  to your imagination,

calls to you like the wild geese,

  harsh and exciting—

over and over announcing

  your place

in the family of things.

—Mary Oliver