Bom Día is Good morning in Portugese!


It seems a bit strange how normal it feels to get up about 6 a.m., put on the same clothes I wore yesterday that I hand-washed and hung to dry. In Portugal they nearly flash dry, the warmth, a little breeze and the quick-dry material are the perfect combination. 

Every day is different, with farms, hamlets and villages linked with paths, stone roads, and a little asphalt that wend through olive groves, stands of eucalyptus trees and gardens of beirzo, tomatoes, and cabbage. When I walked from Fátima to Tomar, I followed an acqueduct built by the Knights if the Templar, visited a museum collection of 60,000 matchbooks from 127 countries and enjoyed raucous pasta dinners accompanied by vinho tinto with other pilgrims in the Hostel Tomar. 
Followed by two full days of walking solo, staying on quiet farms or hostels between the main stages where a lot of pilgrims stay, visiting Roman ruins, receiving a gift of a handful of walnuts from a local peasant woman in a dress, headscarf and wellies and discovering what is around the corner! 


My sketchbook diary, note the heat!

Got lucky to stay with Nuno!

Beautiful village where we watched boys showing off on their bicycles in the main intersection. 

B

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