Distance travelled today: 12 miles on foot.
Day 9: Arcade to Pontevedra
A short stretch today, only 12 kilometres on the 'Way', and there was definitely a 'water" theme, with the walk punctuated by heavy showers and a few brief sunny spells. We left Arcade, crossing the Ria de Vigo by traversing the Medieval Pontesempaio.
It was raining as we started to climb through the narrow cobbled streets, and as the showers became heavier, we found ourselves dodging under porches and standing in doorways to avoid the worst of it.
One young lady who stayed at the same albergue as us last night after walking almost 40km in the rain, arrived with soaked boots and feet full of blisters, a nightmare we were keen to avoid.
As we sheltered in one doorway, the lady who lived there came out and ushered us inside until the rain lightened, chatting away to us in Spanish about the rain 'mucho agua' and her daughter who moved to Seattle to get away from the rain - only to find that Seattle is also a rainy place, which made her laugh. She said a lot more, very little of which we understood, and waved us off with her good wishes when the rain abated. What a lovely lady!
Half an hour later, the rain had stopped and the sun was shining from a blue sky, a pattern that was to be repeated for the next few hours, our raincoats on and then off and then on again, sheltering from the rain under trees where we could and enjoying the warmth when the sun did peep out from behind the clouds.
The walk itself was lovely, mostly off road through fields of vines and woodlands.
We were certainly not alone today, there were many people walking, some alone, others as couples like us, and also some quite big groups.
As we approached Pontevedra, we had the option of continuing along the road or walking by the river and taking a slightly longer route. We chose to walk by the river as it seemed quieter, enjoying the meandering water, which eddied and flowed beside the path.
We found ourselves immersed in vibrant greenery with splashes of colour from the native wildflowers; a woodland blanket of emerald ferns, pretty tri-petalled white flowers of the'Wandering-Jew', yellow Celandine, creeping Forget-me-not and the frilly white blooms of Giant Hogweed.
As we sauntered* along the quiet muddy path, with the pitter-patter of rain just breaking through the canopy of the trees, I could almost have been back in Lancashire, walking through an English woodland; only the smell of eucalyptus was different.
We emerged from the trees to rejoin the main path running alongside the road into Pontevedra - city of bridges - dropping our bags at the City Hostel and resting awhile, before making our way down to the pretty old town by the river, to wander along the old streets, enjoy a nice bottle of wine and good food, and to celebrate our sauntering.
*saunter Isn't it a beautiful word. Back in the Middle Ages people used to go on pilgrimages to the Holy Land, and when people in the villages through which they passed asked where they were going, they would reply, 'A la sainte terre,' 'To the Holy Land.' And so they became known as sainte-terre-ers or saunterers.
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