![](\"https:\/\/upload.wikimedia.org\/wikipedia\/commons\/6\/60\/Lisbon_SPOT_1015.jpg\")
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The\u00a0Lisbon metropolitan area<\/a>; the\u00a0Set\u00fabal Peninsula<\/a>\u00a0is south of the\u00a0Tagus River<\/a>…<\/em><\/p>\n * \u00a0 * \u00a0 * \u00a0 *<\/p>\n I flew back from Lisbon<\/a>, Portugal, on September 25.\u00a0\u201cAnd, boy, were my arms tired<\/a>!\u201d<\/em> But seriously, I\u00a0did<\/em>\u00a0<\/strong>finish a 160-mile hike on the Portuguese Camino in September. (I flew to Lisbon August 28.)<\/em><\/p>\n Which means the “Greetings from the Portuguese Camino” is a bit of an\u00a0anachronism<\/a>. (A “chronological<\/a>\u00a0inconsistency in some arrangement, especially a juxtaposition of persons, events, objects, or customs from different periods.”) <\/em><\/p>\n But it seems<\/em><\/strong> like yesterday…<\/p>\n Part of the trip’s charm was that before, during and after the 18-day hike I greatly<\/em> enjoyed the Iberian beers. Including Cruzcampo<\/a>,\u00a0Sagres<\/a>, Mahou and\u00a0Super Bock<\/a>. See\u00a0Beer in Portugal \u2013 Wikipedia<\/a>\u00a0and its long history, “as far back as the time of the ancient\u00a0Roman<\/a>\u00a0province of\u00a0Lusitania<\/a>, where\u00a0beer<\/a>\u00a0was commonly made and drunk.\u201d<\/p>\n I hiked with my Utah brother and sister-in-law. We started in Porto, then hiked \u201cback\u201d to Santiago. (My brother and I hiked the Camino Frances in 2017, and came to Santiago from the east.)<\/em> This time we three<\/em><\/strong> came into Santiago from\u00a0 the south. I\u00a0wrote about that proposed pilgrimage on August 2d, in\u00a0St. James \u2013 and \u201cmy next great pilgrimage<\/a>.\u201d (My companion blog.)<\/em><\/p>\n In 2017 \u2026 my Utah brother and I hiked\u00a0[and biked)<\/em>\u00a0the most popular \u201cCamino<\/a>,\u201d the\u00a0French Way<\/a><\/i><\/strong>\u2026 But a month from now \u2013 September 2, 2019 \u2013 my brother and I will start hiking the [160] or so miles, from\u00a0Porto<\/a><\/u>\u00a0\u201cback\u201d up to\u00a0Santiago<\/a>, via the\u00a0Portuguese Way<\/a>. And\u00a0this<\/em>\u00a0<\/strong>time we\u2019ll be joined by my Utah\u00a0sister-in-law<\/em>.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n That\u00a0Portuguese Way<\/a>\u00a0is another name for the Camino route passing through Portugal. You can begin in either Lisbon or Porto. “The Portuguese way is the second most popular route after the\u00a0French Way<\/a>\u00a0and the Portuguese coastal<\/em><\/strong> way” – which we took, hiking west from Porto – “is the seventh most popular.” See What Is The Coastal\u00a0Portuguese Camino De Santiago\u00a0Like<\/a>?<\/p>\n If you start your Camino\u00a0<\/em>in Porto and really want to be by the water, you have the option of spending your first day [or two] walking the unofficial but easy-to-follow route\u00a0alongside\u00a0the beach between Matosinhos and Vila do Conde… Towards the end of the following\u00a0day, the route\u00a0<\/em>heads inland and unless you take a detour or two, you won\u2019t see much of the sea until you get to Galicia.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n Which is pretty much what we did.<\/p>\n 10.8 miles from Porto to Cabo do Mundo the first day. (And by the way, the tablet I used to both take some pictures and post them on Facebook had a problem. It had autocorrect, which changed a name like Cabo do Mundo to “Cabo Dr Mundo” every<\/strong> time. It got to be aggravating after a while.) <\/em>Then 10.2 miles to Vila do Conde. (Same tablet problem.)<\/em> From there it was a mere six-mile to Arcos. (A rare short hike.)<\/em> From there 13 miles to Barcelos, where we took our first day off. Which was pretty much the pattern: Our three days off were always preceded by one long<\/em> <\/strong>hike.<\/p>\n Which – by the way – was prompted by my brother’s booking our hotels – auberges<\/em>, whatever – a good six months in advance. And that made us different from most Camino pilgrims.<\/p>\n All the good books on the “magic of the Camino” focus on the wonderful people you meet and mingle with in the dormitory-style auberges. But my brother had that experience once – in 2017, crossing the Pyrenees, before we met up in Pamplona – and that was enough for him.<\/p>\n And me too, as it turned out. (I took his word for it.)<\/em><\/p>\n I like my privacy, and being able to get away from “mingling” after a long day’s hike.<\/p>\n So anyway and to repeat, we started out on the Coastal Route after Porto, then shunted over to the Inland Route. There – among other rivers – we crossed the Lima river<\/a>\u00a0at\u00a0Ponte<\/em> <\/strong>de Lima<\/a>:<\/p>\n For the inland route,\u00a0Ponte de Lima<\/a>‘s bridge is used. The later bridge possibly dates to the 1st century and was rebuilt in 1125… [The bridge] is named after the long medieval bridge (ponte<\/i>) that passes over the\u00a0Lima river<\/a>\u00a0that runs next to the town.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n Or as Arlo Guthrie might have phrased it, “that’s just the name of the bridge, and that’s why they called the bridge the\u00a0Ponte de Lima<\/a>.”<\/p>\n That’s a quick look at the first part of this Camino hike, with few scintillating details or photos. (Except those at the top and bottom of the main text.)\u00a0<\/em>But we’re digressing here, and getting to the end of the recommended number of words in a blog post. That<\/em><\/strong> leads to a final note.<\/p>\n Remember how we used to peel the skin off our back and arms after a bad sunburn? Back in the old<\/em><\/strong> days, when we were young and before today\u2019s fancy-schmancy creams and lotions that prevent such peeling? Something like that happened to the soles of my feet once I got home.<\/p>\n By the time we reached Santiago the soles of my feet were like shoe-leather, tough, blister-over-healed-blister and callused. (Or \u201ccayused,\u201d as one cute <\/em>Farmacia lady said.*) <\/em>But then since I\u2019ve been home, I\u2019ve peeled off several layers of that tough, leathery skin. So apparently the affected parts of the physical body \u2013 like the soles of your feet \u2013 go through a process of \u201cdecompressing\u201d after such an adventure, just like you do mentally<\/em><\/strong>.<\/p>\n Which I suppose is just another way of saying that when you engage in such a pilgrimage – or any life-changing experience – you can expect both good times and times that aren’t so good.<\/p>\n I’ll be writing more about our Portuguese Camino adventure, but in the meantime: The good memories weren’t\u00a0just<\/em><\/strong>\u00a0limited to the Cruzcampo<\/a>,\u00a0Sagres<\/a>, Mahou and\u00a0Super Bock<\/a>…<\/p>\n * \u00a0 * \u00a0 * \u00a0 *<\/p>\n Re: “Beach” alternative. See\u00a0What Is The Coastal\u00a0Portuguese Camino De Santiago\u00a0Like<\/a>? it included a little blurb about the charms of “mingling” with other pilgrims: “One of the\u00a0endearing aspects of walking the Camino<\/a>, and possibly a reason people become addicted to it, is the joy of meeting fellow walkers, their\u00a0support and encouragement and the friendships you make along the Way.”<\/em><\/p>\n Re:\u00a0Cruzcampo<\/a>.\u00a0The link –\u00a0Cruzcampo Pilsener | Grupo Cruzcampo SA | BeerAdvocate<\/a>\u00a0– included some definitely negative reviews, but I liked it. I had at most one or two samples on this trip, but on the 2017 Camino Frances hike, I especially enjoyed an ice cold can on the train ride from Madrid up to Pamplona, where I met my brother, who’d hiked over the Pyrenees<\/a>. I’d had enough of mountain hiking, since we’d hiked the Chilkoot Trail the summer before.<\/em><\/p>\n