Taking off from Heathrow in an absolute downpour was slightly alarming. Visibility was zero, so the young pilot was completely in the hands of Air Traffic Control. Also, the BA plane was full and they didn’t load everybody’s baggage. I was lucky, though, and I soon spotted my backpack in its distinctive IKEA protective covering as it came round the turntable.
As we left England behind, the weather cleared beautifully and the sun-baked patchwork of Spanish fields were a welcome sight below us.
I must have walked miles, both at Heathrow and Madrid - I almost feel fit enough to do another Camino, but I won’t. These are big, busy airports and you need plenty of time to find your way between terminals. In Madrid, I have 4 hours - time for a beer and a sandwich.
I finished and enjoyed my Margaret Atwood, which made the trip bearable. The man in the seat next to me watched all 5 episodes of Chernobyl. I want to see it - maybe on the way home?
Now in Porto, staying at the Passenger Hostel right next to Sao Bento Station.
Ladies shower room overlooks the station.
From the station, looking up at the Passenger Hostel.
The tiled scenes on the walls of the station entrance.
Entry of Joao I into Porto for his marriage to Filipa of Lancaster: XIV Cent.
Sao Bento Station is famous for these blue and white tile paintings of rural scenes and key moments from Portugal’s history. Tourists flock to photograph them. It’s also very much a working station, so staying next door was a great idea.