Day 24, September 24, Portos to Melide– late post

         I was a bit confused when I arrived at this place the previous afternoon. This was our agreed stop for the day but on the outside, it looked more like a cafe than an albergue. This was further enforced by the fact that there were a number of tables set up for outdoor dining, and all of which










were occupied by pilgrims taking their mid afternoon break. Wolfgang and Anna were there and they told me that they ran into my sister about half an hour past. They said Anj was unfortunately not able to book beds for us here so she decided to keep on walking to the next town. This was not news that I wanted to hear but not having a choice, I decided to forge ahead and continue walking. The next town was about 5 kilometers away so it wasn't so daunting. But still, I was already at that point where I was ready to put my feet up and rest. Thankfully, as I was leaving, I heard my name being called. Apparently, my sister did get lucky. Three people who called in to reserve their beds did not show up so the hospitalier gave my sister two beds. She did intend to go to the next town like she told Wolfgang and Anna, but the hospitalier caught her in time. Whew! what a relief!  So, we were able to do our laundry and rest early, like we planned.



    









     I'm not sure if Portos is  one of those one-house towns or if the houses here are really just far away from each other. But this albergue-cum-bar was definitely by itself. There was not much else nearby.  The closest store is 3km. back the closest church is 2 km. forward. Since we did not have provisions, we had to walk forward 5 km. before breakfast. You can imagine our moods by then. We were already bickering by the time we found a place to eat. That restaurant at the town entrance sure was a welcome site. After breakfast armed with better moods, we headed to the town proper and located the church for our morning prayers. When the church attendant stamped our passports, he got excited to learn that we were from the Philippines. He pointed us to the 3 priests who were quietly praying near the front pew, saying that one of them is from the Philippines. We didn’t want to bother them but the man was insistent. So, we met Fr. Alberto Silva of the Comboni Missionaries, a Portuguese priest who was based in the Philippines for 18 years. He asked us if we could attend mass in the afternoon because he wanted to pray for us. Unfortunately we couldn’t stay long since we've barely begun our day’s walk. But he did promise to dedicate his afternoon mass to us nonetheless. Too bad we couldn’t be there. But that definitely made our day! Marley was there again as we exited the church and he kindly agreed to take our photo with Fr. Alberto.

     In Furelos, heading to Melide, I walked part of the way with an older pilgrim who didn't seem to be liking her walk very much. She said she started walking just a few days before, I'm guessing Sarria, and that it was more difficult than she expected. She didn't seem like the average pilgrim. She had the requisite gear of course, but it seemed like she was carrying too much for the 5 or 6-day walk from Sarria to Santiago. She actually looked like she doesn't know what she got herself into and why she started walking in the first place. She also looked kinda lonely, so I decided to walk with her the rest of the way to Melide and bring her to the same albergue I was going to. She was very curious about my walk and so I shared some of my experiences and told her stories of some of the people I’ve met. Upon entering town, we ran into Marley (again) who wouldn't let us go without tasting pulpo. He said he saw Anj earlier and gave us directions to the albergue she went to.
 
   Throughout our walk, some pilgrims would pass by and wave, one or two gave me brief hugs before moving on. This lady wondered aloud how we all seemed comfortable around each other, knowing that we all just met within the course of our camino. I just shrugged and smiled. I didn't know how to explain it to her then (mostly because I was out of breath from walking uphill), but the way I see it, no matter how long or how far you walk, the moment you begin your camino, you become part of this amazing community of pilgrims. It's your choice to trust in that community to look out for you or not and to reciprocate other's kindness or not. I also believe that however personal each pilgrim's camino is, nobody can do it on their own. You rely on your strength of course and you savor your moments of solitude, but whether you choose to admit it or not, you also draw comfort from the presence of others. That's probably one of the reasons why even after a full day's walk, most pilgrims still enjoy trading tales accompanied by that ever present bottle  or two of vino tinxto. Because no matter how temporary and fleeting that bond is that you form with other pilgrims, that fellowship is an integral part of the camino. But most times, a wave, a smile, a hug and a taste of pulpo are all you need to keep on walking.