On the way

It was the fourth day of my Camino Portugues from Lisboa to Porto.

A couple of years before I walked the route from Porto to Santiago de Compostela as part of an arranged trip, but this time it was different, I finally decided to do it the “real” way, on my own and carrying the entire gear.

The two experiences turned out completely different. Whilst on the first Camino I was almost “strolling” through the North of Portugal in a rainy but still quite warm October, surrounded by rolling hills with vineyards and fruit gardens, this time I was going through the dry South, under the hot July sun, pressed down by a 12 kg backpack, with the shade only occasionally provided by Eucalyptus and pine forests.

I was leaving Alvaiazere, a little town that in my memory will remain mainly because of its beautiful Arabic name "Al-Baiaz" (the falconer) and heading towards Rabacal. It’s about this time of a journey, after the first couple of days, that one starts to really immerse in the Camino and be carried by it, leaving behind more and more of the hustle and bustle of regular daily life. The silence of the morning and the clouds of mist only added to the mysterious feeling of “the way”.

I was going through one of the pine forests when I saw her in the middle of the path. She was no bigger than a ten year old child and yet she must have been almost ten times the age. Bent practically in two she was gathering the pine needles from the path onto a sheet which she dragged to one side in order to free “the way”. She was so frail that it seemed she may collapse at any moment and yet she was so very calm that deep in her preoccupation she did not even notice me approaching. Only when I came really close and said good day she stopped her work. When she raised her eyes towards me they were full of such peace and kindness one rarely sees in this busy world. She smiled, wished me “Boa Camino” and got back to her preoccupation with the pile of needles. I was so stunned, that I just stood staring, and only after a couple of moments the thought came to me to offer my help. After managing to move the filled up sheet to the side of the path she just thanked me, smiled again and just continued gathering those needles.

What was she doing there all on her own so far away from the village? Why? I will never know the answers to these questions but I will always remember her kind smile.