Here I must take the opportunity to mention that a series of coincidences has become obvious to us everywhere we go. It’s difficult to ignore the fact that everything keeps working out for us in unusual ways. It is really a series of little things, however, to us every incidence makes a big difference in our wellbeing or our direction.
Delphina influenced us to go to Santarem. Then Antonio and his father influenced us to go to Fatima. Then the Tourist info. lady in Tomar influenced us to stay at the Bombeiros. We are just going as people we meet tell us about what to see and what to do. It’s very spontaneous. It has led us to one nice person after another who is very excited to help us and happy to go out of their way such as the Tourist info. lady letting us leave our packs there while we wandered around Tomar.
Now about the Bombeiros or Firemen. They take pilgrims in for the night. We went to the Firehouse and told them we were pilgrims and showed them our Camino Passports. We asked if we could stay for the night. The nice fireman at the dispatch desk checked with the Chief and said we could. They showed us to a private room with three beds in it and a large shared bathroom with showers! And boy was the water hot. But there were no towels except paper towels. So we dried eachother with paper towels. Wow, the firehouse was a great place to stay. We asked if we could stay another night and the Chief said yes. We told the dispatch guy, Luis Marques that my father was a fireman for the Los Angeles Fire Dept. for 33 years. Eric had a lively discussion with him mostly in Spanish. He was a very nice guy.
Outside the firehouse there were many songbirds mobbing a date palm tree. Their songs were like a caliopy of sounds, like a festavel of ear candy. They were fat, happy little birds...small and brown. They sing everywhere we go.
Tomar is where we first tasted the oranges of Portugal. A fellow pilgrim brought oranges he had been given from farther north. His name was Dante and he was traveling south as we were traveling north. He had come over the French Camino Route over the Pyrenees and to Santiago. Now he said he was very tired of the cold and was headed for Africa. He shared his oranges. Well, he is close to Africa now. It’s just over the Portuguese southern border to Morocco.
Back to the oranges. They are to die for. I haven’t tasted anything like this in the states since I was a child in L.A. The taste is so rich, so sweet, so dimentional. Really, it is a small thing, however it makes a sensory memory. I will always remember the taste of Portuguese oranges.
Dante advised us not to walk to Fatima, and we’re glad we took his advice. The roads are twistie and narrow, with no shoulder and very steep. The driver of the bus we took was braver and more skilled than I could imagine. He took hairpin turns with ease and passed double-parked cars with fractions of an inch between the bus and the stone buildings that line the street. I was more impressed with the bus drivers skill than I was with Fatima itself. It is very commercialized. Everything is new and spiffy and uninspiring. There is a giantic courtyard the size of a couple football fields or more that is packed shoulder to shoulder with people on the six days, ( the 13th of each of the months May through Oct.) that the lady appeared to three children. I saw pictures of the multitudes. I wonder where they park? I can’t imagine them all walking up the narrow street, it’s unreal. There certainly is a lot of hipe about this miracle. There is a little building enshrined in a larger one where some of the appearences of the Lady took place. There was a long smoking ledge where people buy candles and leave them lighted. There is a grand new Bacillica erected with a long semi-circle of arches and painted on the walls are depictions of the life of Christ. I think what it is that is not right to me is that I adore the ancient way the Cathedrals and Churchs pour it on decoratively. There’s lots to see. Modern churches have modern sensabilities with moderation and taste. I like the old stuff better. That’s it.
One of the three children who whitnessed the Lady, I think Lucia, lived a long life only dieing recently. She had become a nun and met the Pope. Only two Popes, John Paul in the 90’s and another one in the 30’s ever visited Fatima. The shops have Lucia’s biography and picture for sale everyehere. I bought a medal of the Lady of Fatima and a little bracelet for Arianna and we went to the bus stop to wait for the bus.
Back in Tomar, for another night at the Bombeiros. They have no heat, but fortunately we brought sleeping bags rated down to 25 as Cesily’s & Poe adviced and the down jackets and longjohns Poe got us and we are stuggy. By the way Poe, I love my long sleeved black silk shirt you got me. I may never take it off on the whole trip. We got our Camino Passports stamped at the Bombeiros.
We sought out the churches to get a stamp, but no one seemed to know about the Camino. So we decided to go to the Templar Castle. The black and white marble squares on the streets of Tomar are arranged in the repetitive Templar cross. It is a square cross, equal on all four sides and each branch of the cross taper into the center where they meet. The Castle is a short walk from the firehouse yet steep, we take it slow. It has an adjacent Convent. The etifice itself is square and blocky and the tower is square with a lacy edge. The grounds are layed out for elegant ladies and brave knights to stroll along and pluck oranges and lemons as they go. The trees are centered in mazes and passages of box hedge and when the other follage are in bloom, I’m sure it is gorgous. We enjoyed the view of Tomar and the grounds, but it cost 5Euro each to go in and we decided we’d rather spend the money somewhere else. However, the Tamplars were the law of this land and defended it’s borders for centuries. We got a stamp in our Camino Passports from the Ministerio Da Cultura Instituto Portugues do Patrimonio Arquitictonico Convento de Cristo.
While we were admiring the castle there were several tours going on. I noticed a woman talking English to a group and I remember noticing her eyes. We were going to hang on and here her comments, but decided to start down because the walk is long. It’s strange how something that seems so close can take such a long time to walk to. Eric always stops to take pictures of the flora and fawna and allowing time for that is one of the most important things.
We called a SERVAS lady named Maria from Aveiro, who was leaving for Mosambique and couldn’t put us up. But she told us about a place on the coast a little ways from Aveiro called Costa Nova or New Coast that she said was a must see. So we decided to go.
We had to get our stuff together and go to the train station, all in different directions of course. However, near the station there was a little church. I suggested we try there for a stamp. It was the Ordem Franciscana Secular Fraternidade De Tomar and they gladly stamped our passports. Cool! Then we hopped the train for Aveiro.
A strange thing happened on the train. The tour guide that I noticed at the Tamplar Castle was on the train going to Coimbra, one stop before our stop. We began talking to her. As it turns out, she is also named Maria and has a 5 yr. old daughter and a significant other, the father of their child. She is cautiously getting ready to marry in May 2011. She is warry of the traditional Latin female role during marriage. She loves her work and she loves her husband-to-be and she’s afraid a marriage will change their relationship. She told us quite a lot about herself, her hopes and dreams and we all became friends on the long train ride into the night. She chose at random the picture of our farm from the hall window. I also gave her the picture of the purple flower with the dancing stamins that I noticed her pause at. On to Aveiro!
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