Today I walked from Morgade to Portomarin, a somewhat bigger town. Portomarin seems like an interesting place. It was completely rebuilt, brick by brick, in the 1960s, when the original townsite was flooded to make a reservoir in the Mino River. Supposedly, when the water is low towards the end of the summer, you can see the tops of the original buildings breaking the surface in the lake that laps the town’s shoreline. You’d never know the town is essentially modern. From the castle-like church to the main street’s arched arcades it looks ancient. Anyhow.
To get here I walked on paths and country roads through stands of forest, fields in flower, and beautiful, romantic vistas. The weather was intermittent sun and rain, with a period of really steady, windy, and cold downpour. It is beautiful indeed to walk in the gardens of Galicia in the spring!
The Camino de Santiago is well patrolled by horse-mounted members of the Guardia Civil, not that I would have any safety concerns. Every so often there is a buffet for pilgrims, free, with hot coffee and treats, with optional payment if you care to donate.
This is all too much like paradise, and my pilgrimage isn’t even completed. The only flies in my ointment: I still don’t have the suitcase that Iberia Airlines lost (by local account, Iberia is very good at losing things), and there is quite a bit of mud along the Camino this time of year. As we used to say in my long-distance backpacking days, Lord Muckmire has stretched his magical hands from Mordor and touched the path, but good!
Notes: My suitcase just arrived. Yay! I was taking a shower when there was a loud series of knocks on my room door. Slinging a towel over my naked body, I opened the door to find the landlady rolling the suitcase. Nice to have warm clothing and my tripod again. Iberia Airlines may be good at losing things—in fairness, they were also good at finding me and delivering my suitcase in an obscure location along the Camino. Good bye flies in the ointment, I am content.