I started quite late today. I lingered in the kitchen, took time for breakfast, and amazingly woke up with no pain at all. I got myself some painkillers yesterday from the pharmacy, and it seems like the painkillers really worked.
I chatted with many people in the morning. There were the friendly Italian older guys who took my picture on the second day—turns out they are walking to Sagres. An Italian woman who is also walking to Lagos. A Canadian woman that I met for the first time, who is extending some stages so I know I won’t be seeing her again on the trail (and she also found yesterday crushingly hard: “glad I’m not the only one!”). Then the woman from Berlin, who left to grab coffee when I already had mine (“we’ll see each other later,” she said.). I was one of the last ones to leave.
Today was much better than expected. After yesterday, I had expected the worst—I told the Berliner that if it gets too hot, I swear I would just camp out under the shades, sleep there, and continue my walk in the afternoon when the sun is more bearable.
But what happened was I kept marching and marching for the first 10 km with a decent tempo. You know you’re having a good walk when you think you can just keep walking forever. I have decided that I won’t stop to paint: I’ve had enough paintings of the coastal views, and painting should be done in a comfortable spot! Along the way, I didn’t find any such spot, and I don’t want to torture myself so I kept going.
Not painting helped, I guess, because that means I didn’t spend an extra hour or two under the sun. I still took breaks—many, in fact, I decided to bring 2L of water and almost ran out of it by the time I got to town.
The last 4 km stretch was by the roadside so it was not as spectacular as the rest of the day, but we went through the valleys so that gave a bit more variation instead of the endless one I had yesterday.
Day 4 had been keeping me up at night, because I have read many posts tell me there will be ascents and descents, and yes that’s true. But I could manage. I was very careful so I was sooooooooo slow at times but I made it safely and that’s all that matters.
So… in theory—today could have sucked, but it didn’t. I think a large part of it is also because a change in my mental mindset, I guess. If I could survive a crushingly tough Day 3, I’m sure I can manage anything else even if it takes me ages to do it. Like I said during dinner: I just want to make it Odeceixe, I don’t care what time I get there. And now it’s 16:39 and I’m all clean showered with my clothes drying outside inside my room with AC. AC! Can you believe it!?
Unlike yesterday, I didn’t spend time blaming myself for deciding to do this trip. In fact I had some positive reinforcements—for example: tomorrow is Day 5, which means tomorrow I’ll be halfway through and isn’t that exciting!? I did the Camino Portuguese for 6 days, so I’m sure I can manage pushing it to 6 days. The Swiss woman I met yesterday managed to walk from Sagres, and some people I talked to so far are either planning to walk to Sagres or Lagos which is wonderful. Two more nights until I get a private room for myself! Hostel bunk beds are great because you can meet people (and I honestly wouldn’t have met Sofia, or the Berliner if I wasn’t staying in a shared room) but I do miss having an entire room to myself.
Thinking about yesterday I realized two things: I had a similar “crushingly tough” day when I was doing the Camino Portuguese. This was the stage to Pontevedra where I met Paula (Camino Portuguese, Day 3 - Redondela to Pontevedra (20 km)) (and I’d say that was a tough one also because of the heat!). Everything else in the Camino Portuguese felt way easier after that day, even though Day 6 was considerably longer.
… and it’s the same thing in life, as well. I’ve had some “crushingly tough” moments this year across different aspects of my life, and now looking back I feel like if I can get through them, I can do everything I want to do too.
I’m hopeful.
When I arrived in Odeceixe, I felt extreme relief—I had made it, despite yesterday, and at this point I started to look forward to the next days too.
In the afternoon, instead of going for dinner I decided to head to the bakery. The bakery was uphill, so that added an extra 1-2 km of ascent to my mileage today, but I don’t mind, I would do anything for a good slice of bolo. At first I thought it was one of those fancy bakeries, but turns out it’s a local bakery in a quaint neighborhood one where locals congregate and play pools and hang out. It was a lovely sight to see, and I lingered for a while there, just enjoying the moment.
Afterward I made a brief stop at the supermarket and chatted with a couple who passed me by earlier on the trail. “You’re the artist!” the man exclaimed. I wanted to explain that no I’m not an artist I just happen to like drawing, but I was too exhausted to do that, so I just nodded. They plan to go to Lagos but they’re taking taxi to Aljezur tomorrow.
Sofia mentioned that the windmill was her favorite part of Odeceixe, so I headed there at sunset and made a little sketch. I thought I’d see other hikers in the windmill but I didn’t see anyone I’m familiar with. I was a bit sad about it because I remember what the Berliner told me earlier: “see you on the trail!” and i didn’t see her at all or most people I know really. Earlier that day on the trail I also walked past the two American women I met on Day 2, who when they saw me said, “we’ve been wondering where you are!”. They said take care and I continued my walk and that’s it.
I enjoy my solitude, having an evening to myself unlike the previous two nights, spending time on the other side of town instead of in the city center. I had a brief thought that maybe I should have headed to the city center instead, maybe that’s where people are, but on second thoughts I was happy with my choices: of spending time in the local bakery, of sketching in the windmill, and having dinner by myself at the hostel. It’s 20:00 by the time I’m writing this and I’m ready to go to bed honestly. The day feels long and I don’t know what to expect tomorrow. Who will I see on the trail tomorrow? What will tomorrow be like? Will the crowd thin out and if so will I actually enjoy it? I have no idea.
Unlike the first day where I couldn’t wait to get away from people on the trail, today I feel kind of sad about missing some familiar faces. I knew when I entered Odeceixe I’m already separated from most folks on the trail except one of the Italian older guys (and I didn’t even see his friend!). The Italian woman is staying in the same hostel as I am. In my room I met a German woman who is more on the quiet, reserved side and a German man who is walking from the opposite direction all the way from Faro, and has done the camino a few times before. As we cooled down in our air-conditioned hostel room, we chatted about our camino experience and our love of long distance hiking. I started thinking about all the connections that I have made during my travels. Some of them might have been fleeting, but I’m just grateful to experience all of these. What a life. What a wonderful, wonderful life.