Day 9 - May 6, 2017, Mos to Arcade

View down from cafe

Having gotten on the trail prior to 7:00 a.m., we decide not to have breakfast in Mos at the Café Flora but to eat later on down the road. We follow country roads up another 100 metres until we reach the summit of our walk at Parque Alto before making the steep walk down to the coastal city of Rendondela. At the park, we spot the sign for a café 100 metres down the road in the other direction. Unfortunately, we find it closed and realize that it's Sunday and worry that we may not be able to eat for another hour.

As we return to the main path, we spot the Dutch couple who slow for a short chat and then move on at the blazing speed the woman seems to set for them. With a steep, downward path, we now have views of lush green fields and vineyards and the red, terracotta tiles that cover many of the farm 

Albergue in Rendondela

houses. Just above the horizon, passenger jets glide their way into the airport in Vigo just to the south of us. Much to our relief, we spot the sign for a café in an old country farm house perched on the side of the hill.

Inside, we make polite chit chat with the Dutch couple again They leave and we move with our coffee and pastries to the table by the window to enjoy its spectacular view of the valley. 

I nearly forget to pay my bill as we pack up to go. Unlike North America when we order at the bar, we pay before we receive our food or beverage. Here, custom holds that bills aren’t settled until the customer leaves. So, sometimes I forget.

It's an easy 4 km. walk downhill to the busy city of Rendondela. At an intersection toward the centre of town, we spot a nun carrying a backpack and wearing hiking boots. I get kind of excited thinking that she may be on the el Camino when the bus arrives and she arranges for her pack to be loaded underneath. Oh well.

The albergue here is located in a 16^th century tower house that’s been renovated with modern

Door with scallop, cross and gourd

 facilities. Very beautiful but closed so we can't even take a look or get our passports stamped.

After a number of false starts, we find Iglesia de Santiago just up the road from the albergue. Above the door, we is carved a scallop shell with a crucifix and stick with a gourde crossed behind, pilgrim symbols Inside, a nun converses with a priest in front of the altar and we hesitate because we don't want to interrupt. I remove my hat and we make our way inside. About half-way up the aisle, the nun turns and asks if we have passports. We nod and she indicates for us to follow her to a room just to the right of the altar. I wish I’d taken a picture or even asked permission but I didn’t. The room is panelled in dark wood with many book shelves and lit by a high, large, stained-glass window and the furnishings are very old. I wish I had the nerve to ask permission to take a photo. 

Upon leaving the church, we return to the albergue hoping to find the familiar arrows and scallop shells that mark the route for the el Camino. In towns and cities, probably for reasons of appearance, these tend to be located in unobtrusive locations such as the bottom edge of a building or on a curb and so can be 

Hórreo

hard to find especially with a lot of pedestrians in the way. 

We follow a number of narrow lanes and it’s here I first notice a hórreo, the ancient bin used to store grain for centuries . The large rectangular structure about 10 metres in length and less than half as wide, made of stone with narrow slits that allows air to pass through to dry the grain. They're built on stilts with six large round pedestals to prevent the rats and other vermin from climbing in. Nicola tells me that they’re considered part of the country’s heritage and so the people aren’t allowed to remove or destroy them.

We follow the coast past farms with their small plots of land. All is a lush and iridescent green. we climb one last hill through a forested area before a relatively steep descent into Arcade, our destination for the night. It’s early but the next town where we could stay is Pontevedra, another 13 km. down the road, just a little too far. 

Nun with backpac

The albergue is perched atop a hill overlooking the bay and a suspension bridge in the distance, nice but we've decided to take a break from hostels for the night. We cross another beautiful medieval bridge over the Rio Verdugo and I take another picture of Nicola.

We stop for a short chat with an Australian couple we'd met seated at a table in front of an ancient, charming stone building that houses the Café a Romana. Nicola believes the girl originates from Scotland where they are headed after the el Camino. Their appearance is typical of many other pilgrims on the albergue. From a distance, they look a lot younger than they are in actuality. 

We detour a kilometre off the trail to get to our hotel by the highway. (Nicola didn’t know this at the time of booking.) It's like a North American Super 8 except in Portugal.
On the way, we passed houses perched precariously above the river to maximize the view. Then, a short, uncomfortable walk along the highway with cars and trucks whizzing past,  and we book into our hotel on the third floor with a room overlooking the highway and, 

View of bay from Arcade

in the distance, bay. We wash our clothes and hang them to dry on a narrow, enclosed balcony. We try opening the windows to the enclosure but are immediately greeted by the loud drone of speeding vehicles.

Nicola in front of another beautiful medieval bridge

Nicola check the local restaurants nearby in Trip Advisor and discovers one just down the highway that features seafood and is considered by people in surrounding area as the place to eat. So, we walk 20-minute down the highway, past a large green field house with moss and grass growing on the roof. We would have thought it derelict except we hear music coming from inside. 

The restaurant sits perched on an escarpment overlooking the bay on one side and river on the other. We enquire about seating and the waitress replies that they are about to close but will reopen at 8:00. So, we reserve a table resolve to wait three hours before eating.  

Watching football (soccer) in cafe Arcade. 

With most of the afternoon evening to fill, we return to the Café a Romana by the ancient bridge and and order two beers, which, in the small towns of this country, automatically comes included with tapas. We sit outside with a view of the river and the bay beyond. Four local guys at the table beside us discuss football and joke and kill an afternoon doing what young guys do. 

Guys watching football outside at bar in Tui.

The downtown area provides little in the way of diversion. So, we stop at a cafe for coffee where we sit outside. Inside a bunch of men watch soccer on television all seated facing the television. They don't even pretend to be social. 

Down the hill, we search for a route to the water's edge. Nicola pointlessly shops for clothing while I wait on the curb outside and watch the cars go by. At 8:03, the hostess of restaurant door tells us to return in a half-hour when the cooks arrive. Our patience tested, we wander over to a small park to witness some dude abuse his very old dog. This wait better be worth it. 

The impossibly large serving of assorted fish

Back at the restaurant, a waitress with shaved head save for bangs across one side, seats us at a window table. After she brings us the menu, we admire the fantastic view of the bay that features a middle-aged man jogging, a number of boats stranded on sand by low-tide, and houses, hotels and restaurants straddling the coast. A suspension bridge provides a dramatic backdrop in the distance.. 

We order the variety plate for a very reasonable price meant for a minimum of two persons, far too much for us to consume.  It's delicious and rationalize the wait worthwhile. 

Nicola enjoying view