The Trouble With Signage
“All journeys have secret destinations of which the traveler is unaware." - Martin Buber
If you haven’t figured it out by now, I sometimes suck at signage. And I’m okay with that. I’ve even come to embrace that on occasion. Not when I have tickets to special events that will be put in jeopardy. A lesson I learned in Venice after I missed a cruise to Murano to see glass blowing and have a fine dining experience. But sometimes the beauty you find on an alternate route will counter-balance disappointment. When you have a pen and a travel journal, nothing is ever wasted.
The first part of my walk today began with a short stretch hugging the side of the highway. Loud, fast, nerve-wracking! I wasn’t even sure I was going the right way. Although I had a cell phone, I had little experience with using it without wifi, having only a small data plan. I’d make notes from the comfort of my hotel or casa as I still hadn’t learned how to take screenshots. I had a travel map, but it wasn’t waterproof or in English. This was the first big holiday where I felt like I was in a bit in over my head.
When I crossed the highway I was met with an absence of signage. Do I take the noisy road that numbs my senses, or head downhill toward the water and hope it would take me where I needed to go? The waterside route along the Parque Paseo da Ria do Burgo - park for short - won hands down. It was amazing - beautiful, quiet, welcoming - I could have spent the day there picnicking, people-watching, and reading a good book. The savory-sweet smell of wild fennel along the path inspired me to plant some at home in my garden on my return. I wish that I had stayed longer, even a few hours. When a spot reels you in with its beauty, stay as long as you can. If you already have your lodgings booked, savor the road you’re traveling as you may never pass that way again. It isn’t a race. In my first few walking days, I felt a bit like I was in a race, competing with myself, to break my daily goal. When my Camino was over, there were so many places I would have liked to go back to and linger awhile.
When I arrived in Ponte Do Burgo, I noticed that the hostel was closed. I wasn’t staying there so it didn’t matter, but I’d hoped to have a look around for research purposes. I noticed a sign for a nearby medieval bridge and went for a wonderful, long walk by the water but couldn’t find it. I stopped at a little pub, sat outside with a drink to people watch, and, wouldn’t you know it, the medieval bridge was just a few steps from me and the new one that had replaced it. Talk about something being right under your nose. I decided to put a scene in Wayward where Farren takes off to find it and comes back to find Dora waiting at a table with a drink ready for her. Dora points out the bridge, offers her services as a guide, and they barter over a fee. Sometimes we embellish our lived experiences. Sometimes scenes are pure fiction, like bartering with lottery tickets and the hostel hassle that followed.
Sometimes beauty finds us when we are lost and we can only see it if we are present in the moment. Other times, we know we’re lost and that can bring up a whole gamut of emotions. Fear. Frustration. Losing out on something, as I had with my boat trip in Venice. Repercussions.
