Friday, May 7th, 2026
Another 22km day ahead of us. We set out from the Parador under cloudy skies—heaven help us when we have to go back to a Best Western motel.
Crossing the Lérez River called for the mandatory selfie, and dare I say, I’m finally getting the hang of it. Today brought a few hills, but with the railway line never far away, I kept humming (okay, singing to myself) what are the new lyrics: “I’m a-walkin’ along the railroad…”
We took a break on some perfectly placed rocks, finishing the cakes we’d stashed from breakfast. Julie sighed, “I told Paul I’d come back thinner—but that’s not happening if we keep eating cake.”
At our next stop for tea and yet more pastries, rain threatened overhead. Then someone nearby ordered French fries (I say French Fries because they don't know what chips are) and the smell broke us completely. We ordered some too. The rain finally arrived, so we ducked under cover, finished lunch, and pulled on our ponchos.
Shortly after, Kim decided to taxi the rest of the way. Naturally, we stopped at the next café for ice cream and to call a cab—wait times for taxis, by the way, are definitely improving.
Julie and I tried to keep pace with Alison, but let’s be honest: that was never going to happen. By late afternoon, my only thought was: Where’s the next café so I can find a bathroom?
Mission accomplished, we rolled into Caldas de Reis and started hunting for a taxi to take us to our accommodation, which was far off the Camino path. Torre do Rio turned out to be a gorgeous restored manor house. Dinner was at 7:00 pm and required a reservation, but when we asked for that time, we were told "no, not possible"—so 8:00 pm it was. I’d been craving a steak all day, so Julie and I went for beef tenderloin, Kim had soup, and Alison ordered pulpo (octopus).
And then? Time for sleeping.
Another 22km day ahead of us. We set out from the Parador under cloudy skies—heaven help us when we have to go back to a Best Western motel.
Crossing the Lérez River called for the mandatory selfie, and dare I say, I’m finally getting the hang of it. Today brought a few hills, but with the railway line never far away, I kept humming (okay, singing to myself) what are the new lyrics: “I’m a-walkin’ along the railroad…”
We took a break on some perfectly placed rocks, finishing the cakes we’d stashed from breakfast. Julie sighed, “I told Paul I’d come back thinner—but that’s not happening if we keep eating cake.”
At our next stop for tea and yet more pastries, rain threatened overhead. Then someone nearby ordered French fries (I say French Fries because they don't know what chips are) and the smell broke us completely. We ordered some too. The rain finally arrived, so we ducked under cover, finished lunch, and pulled on our ponchos.
Shortly after, Kim decided to taxi the rest of the way. Naturally, we stopped at the next café for ice cream and to call a cab—wait times for taxis, by the way, are definitely improving.
Julie and I tried to keep pace with Alison, but let’s be honest: that was never going to happen. By late afternoon, my only thought was: Where’s the next café so I can find a bathroom?
Mission accomplished, we rolled into Caldas de Reis and started hunting for a taxi to take us to our accommodation, which was far off the Camino path. Torre do Rio turned out to be a gorgeous restored manor house. Dinner was at 7:00 pm and required a reservation, but when we asked for that time, we were told "no, not possible"—so 8:00 pm it was. I’d been craving a steak all day, so Julie and I went for beef tenderloin, Kim had soup, and Alison ordered pulpo (octopus).
And then? Time for sleeping.
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