“Go to work on an egg. Save the egg from graffiti artists”  And so we have taken our leave of […]

“Go to work on an egg. Save the egg from graffiti artists” 

And so we have taken our leave of Portugal and all its delights to press on into Spain, fetching up for tonight in the Galician town of Tui.

Today’s walk was a short one, only 16km, admittedly through a few unpleasant rocky sections, but before we knew it we’d reached the border town of Valença, our final taste of Portugal before crossing the Rio Minho via the International Bridge (a bit prosaic, but that’s what it’s called), taking a photo half way across on the borderline.

Just as we discovered in September last year, when you enter Galicia “ the signs are a mixture of Castillano and Galician Galego”. This is unlikely to confuse us any more than the previous six days, so it’s all good on the Camino!

Last night after our food (which was outstanding, despite Carolyn complaining that she’d eaten far too much and was now feeling sick), we sat out on the lawn (sounds very grand) in the company of a couple from Germany, an Argentinian, and two naturalised Australians whose lives kicked off in Newcastle. It was like a competition to see who could make you feel the most poorly travelled. Everyone of them was captivating company, full of interesting stories told in fluent English, with a variety of reasons for finding themselves sat down on this balmy evening in Pecene, chewing the fat and just enjoying the adventure. I remember describing the Camino as life affirming. I can only confirm that it seems to attract genuinely nice, interesting people who are happy to listen and eager to learn about the experiences of others. We invariably feel like novice travellers, but there is a generosity of spirit that pervades every discussion and reassures you that people are essentially kind and decent! I can’t remember the German guy’s name, he was an absolute gem, and as he was originally from Hamburg, I regaled him with:

(i) the story of our friend Don’s meeting his idol Jorg Albertz outside Hamburg’s ground (bizarre but wonderful) 

(ii) the adoration of Kevin Keegan, more than 30 years later, by Hamburg supporters.

He completely acknowledged the obsession with Kevin Keegan and agreed it was slightly unhealthy, but it gave us a right good laugh. It culminated with him bringing the Keegan song up on his phone, to which we sang along, with no hint of irony. (The beer was too nice for that.) He prefers St Pauli anyway! A very nice man/ couple.

Earlier on we had enjoyed dinner with a girl from Buenos Aires (Ellie) who is a television programmer in Argentina. She is fluent in Spanish (obviously), Portuguese and English (luckily for us). Boy did I bore her with tales from our trip to Argentina. She lives very near the Recleta cemetery, where Eva Peron is interned, which is a lovely part of the city. I quizzed her about all things Buenos Aires until she collapsed, exhausted before my very eyes (doesn’t make me a bad person).

This evening has concluded with our evening meal being enjoyed in some kind of trendy organic eaterie which fortunately provided a very nice bottle of wine . The food was extremely tasty, but a bit moon and stars, if you know what I mean – no pies. We have, nevertheless, eaten our fill, and are  preparing to set off in search of a bar. Tomorrow is another relatively short walk, so it’s ok to over indulge. That’s the excuse I’ve manufactured,and it’s only right to celebrate our arrival in Espana. Hurrah! Vamos!


(1) Fry them

(2) Boil them

(3) Scramble them

(4) Poach them

(5) Paint faces on them, pretend they’re real people, send photographs of the egg in a variety of situations to friends and have them worry about the lack of variety in your life. (You know who you are…….)

Today’s album track is “Every Kinda People” by Robert Palmer. Variety is, after all, the spice of life! (Eggsistentialists take note…!)