Day 6: Keepers of the sunset

Dear traveler,

I slept like a baby in the yellow with a blue shell top bunk bed. After this good night's sleep and a shorter day, I feel ready for anything that might await today on the trail.

We start off in the morning's chilly air but with a first stop at the pastry shop from the street corner. Mamarmot says that we won't be finding any stores for a while today so it's better to eat something. Crunchy sandwich and something sweet and now I'm ready to go.

We walk on narrow streets that go up and down, followed by the running track next to the river and the trail goes on next to houses and under stone and flower covered arches. 

It's so quiet as if nobody dares to wake up at this time of day, so I'm also trying not to be too noisy although that doesn't suit me. 

The trail gets more wild, the stone arches turn into blackberry bushes that are showing off their spikes but also their ripe fruit. Delicious! The bushes are more and more present at every step and they climb higher and higher. I've never seen blackberry bushes that would climb onto trees. Should I even say how full of blackberries they are? And when I think that Mamarmot was afraid we won't find anything to eat ...

We reach back into the forest, this time filled with ferns and gigantic pine cones. The sunrays are beautifully filtering through them and we, ...well, we get lost. This is what happens when you're eyes are not on the road but looking for blackberries and pine cones. We meet another lost pilgrim so maybe we're not the only confused ones.

We get back to the main path and we kind of find our way again, as the shell does not appear too often on this part of the trail.

We walk like that for a while, guided by Mamarmot and her maps, until we reach the entrance in a carnival like decorated town.

Medieval music, colorful booths with local products. Oh look, a place where you can have a henna tattoo! My eyes jump to a wall filled with many mandala designs. And at the many people wearing costumes that swarm around us like bees. If there weren't for other pilgrims around here, we would for sure be way off. We're not sure exactly what the Portuguese celebrate with this carnival, but we like it. Now I understand why it was so hard to find a place to stay yesterday. There are people everywheeeere.

It seems like the party is about to start here, but we really have to get going. We get an ice cream and we continue slowly on the town's streets, without too much enthusiasm. The afternoon heat starts to become a bit suffocating around here but, luckily, it doesn't take too long until we get back to the first forest. Her shadow helps me to move my legs a little bit more until we reach our destination, without complaining too much.

We start finding bridges and running tracks. It was about time the town would show up.

But what's that inclined road in front of us? These Portuguese people are killing me with their streets....

- "Come on, marmot, on the top of the hill it's our albergue!"

But why couldn't it be at the foothills? Ohhhh...

I hardly drag my legs and then I jump on the first couch from the lobby while my folks check in. 

One of the ladies takes us to a rooms with 3 beds covered with blue vinyl and I can only be amazed by how nice are the Portuguese for giving us this room just for ourselves. 

My folks go shopping and me, oh well...I'm taking a well deserved break. I'm so tired.

In the evening, we go for a walk in this beautiful town. We go towards the citadel and there's no need to search for too long as we're right next to it. A path takes us to a forested hill, but, until there, stop! Two gigantic rocks, covered by abstract paintings look like guarding the path for anyone that would want to go further. I study them on all sides and try to understand what the artist was trying to share. Maybe an idea will pop up later...

We end up on one of the citadel's walls and from here, we see most of it. Fortaleza de Valença. She is beautifully painted in golden shades by the light of dusk and I look at my steps and imagine how people lived here thousand yeas before me. 

From a viewpoint, we can see a bridge and beyond it, it's Spain.

So this was our story with Portugal. Tomorrow we'll be crossing the border and we'll say goodbye to pastel de nata. 

However, we linger here for a while, frozen in time, in cricket chants and with the last ray of sun on our faces. Here where people used to live. Here where the keepers would guard these horizons, walking over the walls. Here where only two gigantic rocks still stand as keepers of the sunset.