The camino from Alvaiázere to Rabaçal
It was really lovely that the hotel in Alvaiázere had accommodated myself and another pilgrim in a house, but it was absolutely freezing inside and therefore I didn’t actually sleep that much. Every time I turned over in my bed I felt the cold creeping back in. So I was a bit absentminded at the breakfast table that morning. The breakfast was excellent by the way, much more than I could eat, but I stuffed myself anyway, knowing the food would otherwise go to waste.
The thick fog this morning matched my mood. Partly because of this, it felt like I quickly got very far away from Alvaiázere. I walked over quiet roads through a forest and passed very small towns, sometimes just consisting of a handful of houses. I noticed many houses seemed empty and needed repairs. In a big bend in the road I saw a house that was still inhabited.
Nobody was home except for a small dog who took upon him the task of guardian. He took it very seriously. Barking he came running in my direction and I quickly walked back around the bend. The barking stopped and I gathered the courage to try again. I approached carefully and watched the dog’s reactions. Every few steps I turned my head to the dog. It stayed about 1,5m away from me, approaching and then stopping when I turned my head. And that’s how I eventually passed, picking up my pace once I’d safely passed him.
Despite a drizzle in the morning it turned out to be an incredibly beautiful day. The landscape was very idyllic, as if I was walking through a fairytale. Small paths between stone walls went through small fields towards sleepy towns. The plants were green and the stone walls and trees surrounding me were covered with moss. I was very surprised when I saw some pilgrims coming from the other direction on a small town square. The two guys walked by quickly and just nodded a hello. A few minutes later I saw a British girl who had just started smoking a cigarette. She struck up a conversation and told me she’d been walking for a while, coming over the Camino Frances and now walking down to Lisbon. I didn’t even know people did this.
It was strange to see these people in the otherwise quiet landscape. It was so quiet that I barely saw any locals in the small towns. Only their dogs remained and they weren’t always so quiet. On 2 occasions I saw 4 dogs grouped together. The first time it seemed like one dog was their leader, encouraging the other dogs to turn against me. He bared his teeth and was growling aggressively. Slowly but surely I passed, but the dog came pretty close and when I turned around the corner I couldn’t stop the tears from flowing down like waterfalls. My heart was racing. I was so scared that my head filled with worries. Surely this wouldn’t happen a third time in one day!
But of course it did. In a new sleepy town, a little bigger this time, I encountered another group of dogs. I couldn’t handle it and backed out, shaking. I considered waiting for Teodora or Sascha, pilgrims that I knew were somewhere behind me. But I didn’t know how far away they were or how long I’d have to wait. I looked at my map and saw a small detour, which I took. A dog barked from behind a gate and sent the shivers down my spine and the tears down my cheeks. An old man watched me go. On my detour I saw another dog, but I told him in a strong voice all I wanted to do was pass, so just let me! He walked away. I didn’t see any more dogs after this.
I power walked down a small path leading out of the village towards the main road. Before following this busy road I sat down to eat something and caught my breath. I found a bigger town in Alvorge, but I didn’t stay long and set course for Rabaçal. I’d already had a nice break in Ansião, a lively town with many cafés and shops and I thoroughly enjoyed the atmosphere there. The main road from Alvorge to Rabaçal was straight and flat. However, the walking path went somewhat parallel, but over the hilly landscape beside it. After a final descent I walked over rural roads and saw an older couple with horse and wagon coming back from their fields. A bit further along, a bunch of people were working on the olive trees. Most of them were somewhat older.
After checking in to the pilgrims hostel in Rabaçal, I decided to go to the museum and that’s where I finally saw a young person. I was greeted enthusiastically in the small building. Just over a kilometer away from here, they dug up the ruins of a Roman villa and this museum shows some of the things they found as well as plans for how to develop the actual archeological site into a museum. The man was still going over thousands of pieces of broken pottery, like a never ending puzzle. He interrupted his work to give me a small tour. Unfortunately I didn’t have time to visit the site itself. You can, but the mosaics are covered by a layer of sand to protect them, so you need someone to show you.
To me, my experience in Rabaçal was what I’d come to the camino for. The hostel I stayed at was basic but exactly how I’d imagined them to be. It was attached to a café with minimart and run by a woman who I saw running up and down all day. She offered a pilgrim’s meal to everyone who stayed. For a bargain I had a delicious, hearty home cooked meal. Her café was the place to be for everyone in the one street town. People would come after work and again in the morning, to pick up fresh bread. It’s these kind of places and these kind of scenes that make walking through the country worthwhile. This is where life happens, far away from tourists and flashy hotels. I am so grateful I had this experience.
Always excellent, Andrea! Thank you!
Thanks Fabio!