Aches, Pains, and Spain

Today was reasonably short at 15.4 miles.

We crossed the Minho River, from Portugal to Spain first thing this morning.

There was no border crossing fanfare, no lines to wait in, no passport check-in, nada.

Unfortunately, there was one negative difference, bus loads of ‘Sweat-less Camino’ participants.  We watched them take endless selfies, be ferried from place to place, and get their passports stamped.  Jeni had warned us ‘The Way’ changed significantly at the 100 kilometer mark.  Now we had to listen to gobs of noisy people on ‘holiday.’ We put them on the bottom, below the E-bikers as ‘Camino Posers.’

So far I like Portugal better then Spain, but I promise to give it a few more days before I make my final decision.

My feet still hurt, very much.  I told my daughter it feels like someone has taken a hammer to the bottoms.  I don’t know if it’s my extra body weight, the weight of my pack or the combo of both.  Larry has the same shoes and he’s not having foot pain.

looking back at the crossing from Portugal to Spain