Baiona

I went to bed in Oia thinking about the long trek ahead to Baiona. More rain; more pain. I know the only way out is through but fatigue was setting in.

Lo and behold, by morning the rain had cleared out! I was so relieved. I desperately needed a break from my hiking boots; my trail runners are not waterproof. Already, off on the right foot!

The trek to Baiona was beyond beautiful. So much more than we’d hoped or imagined; I’m sure my photos don’t do it justice. We trekked 12.5 miles into Baiona with decidedly less effort than 9.5 into Oia. Much goodness; so grateful.

Clouds and wind created dramatic cloudscapes. We marveled over and again at the ferocity of the surf. It just never quit churning, white and frothy like a milkshake at the shoreline.

Temps were cool; perfect for trekking. It wasn’t another day of slipping and slogging, as anticipated. More of a seaside stroll. My pack was much better adjusted; hardly any pain. Except The Hubs is blistering; we gotta’ work on that tonight.

There were a few trails, as if cutting through the back pasture. A few small towns, where cobbles came into play. We passed by plenty of horses in pasture, a herd of cows grazing in the spray of surf, and some goats. Much of the trek, however, was on a wide walking path we dubbed the yellow brick road.

Passing through one small town, a sweet little blue home caught my eye. An elderly woman was shutting her windows. I waved to her, “Buenos dias,” as she pulled in the hinged pane. She waved back, “Buen Camino.” She said something else but I didn’t understand, “Muchas Gracias.” :=)

Sometimes we pass by the quaint, or quirky, with no explanation. Other times, it explains itself as we continue along The Way.

Crossing from Portugal into Spain, it was oddly difficulty to bring our brains online in Spanish. For the first two days, I’d revert. Bom Caminho. Bom Dia. Obrigado. Yesterday my brain finally caught up with my body.

When we’re achey and slow, or The Way is rough, we take to singing. Seared in memory are those moments in time on a particular hill, switchbacking through another small town, or some stretch of suffering where a song encouraged us on.

For example, Theme Song from the Monkees, by the Monkees; If I Should Fall Behind, by Bruce Springsteen (thank you, Terry); Great Balls of Fire, by Jerry Lee Lewis; Proud Mary, by Creedence Clearwater Revival; Rocket Man, by Elton John; Running on Empty, by Jackson Browne; Songbird, by J.J. Heller; and many more. My Walk Your Walk playlist is an eclectic mix that continues to grow as we go.

One day, as we hit yet another steep incline, I hit play on (I’m Gonna Be) 500 Miles, by The Proclaimers. We trek-danced up those cranky cobbles like we owned that street. A car came whizzing around the corner, its driver honking, passenger waving, encouraging us on! I don’t know what other trekkers do to amuse themselves, but this is how we roll.

On our first rainy trek day we began working our way through TV theme songs. Heading off for Baiona on the downslope, it was The Partridge Family theme song. Hello world, here’s a song that we’re singin’ / C’mon get happy / A whole lotta lovin’ is what we’ll be bringin’ / We’ll make you happy!

We were trailing a local lady but soon caught up. She turned to greet us with a large smile, speaking Spanish we couldn’t understand until, “Buen Camino!”

One of my fears in trekking was dogs on the loose. It’s not common but there are reports here and there, sometimes of dog attacks. Most dogs we’ve encountered are behind gates. In Oia, little tiny terror was trying to hard to get at us so desperately I thought surely his head would get stuck under his gate!

One trek-mate has a theory that talking sweet to the barking beasts reminds them of their friendly owners to positive effect. While I give dogs a wide berth, especially if they’re barking, he approaches closely and piles on the charm. This causes me some angst but I give him an A for effort. Although I’ve yet to observe the positive effect!

Anyway, on the trek into Baiona, a Spanish lady was walking two ankle biters, yipping heartily, and two larger dogs were barking vigorously behind a fence. They were clearly visible, in a gated yard many feet above street level. The dog walker moved on but the two big boys kept up the racket.

Our trek-mate did his thing, talking sweet to the barkers several feet above his head. “You don’t really mean it. No, you don’t. You don’t either. You sweet thing.” They continued yapping as if intending to remove his head and neck. Suddenly, out of nowhere, a horse entered, stage left, to check out the commotion. We simultaneously burst into laughter — and song! “A horse is a horse, of course, of course / And no one can talk to a horse of course / That is, of course, unless the horse is the famous Mr. Ed. …”

We discussed if we’d detour for the sea glass beach. It added mileage but avoided a big hill. We kicked the can on that decision. As it turned out, we almost missed the transition!

Within a couple miles of Baiona but off the official Camino is the sea glass beach, Praia dos Cristais de Sillerio. I don’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t this. I gasped at the wide band of glittering colored glass deposited by the tide. It literally took my breath away!

There was nothing at street level to hint at the beauty we’d find in this extra mile two. It was a random comment from another trekker that led us off route. I’m so grateful, and that our pace allows spontaneous side-adventures along The Way.

My devotional this morning was on the blessing of marriage. Truly, profound. When I think back to the teenagers we were when we met and married, the challenges we faced then and onward through 42 years, the way the Lord has led us to this place, I’m overwhelmed with gratitude. So much of the joy of this journey is being in it together.

Arriving in Baiona, I realized: We’ve been here! One cruise, Baiona was a pit stop on a day-trip. This is where Christopher Columbus set sail on at least one journey. We passed a statue in tribute on the plaza near the marina, and a lovely fortress high on the hill, which we didn’t climb. Because 12.5 miles is enough for today.

Hold hope. Keep faith. Walk your walk.

~ Sincerely, Sondra