3. Saō Pedro de Rates to Barcelos. 16 kms

Everywhere I look as I walk: in every direction, on the hills and between the fields, I see stretches of Aussie gum trees.

It is truly remarkable how the Australian eucalypt has colonized the Iberian peninsula.

Even in what remains of European woods, the gum tree is springing up among the native oaks, strangling what remains of the indigenous species. These foreign invaders were not uninvited colonists, of course. Apparently they were thought to provide good timber for the making of furniture. Or so I was told.

The most pleasant moment of the day was a little detour off the road and through one of these Eucalyptus forests. You will see from the stones that mark the border, that this was likely a very old road that would have run through a European wood of oak or beech or ash before the mid-nineteenth century. Now, it’s a forest of tall, thin, dull eucalypts.

After a lousy sleep due to jet lag and a warm dorm, I walked slowly and carefully today. I’m falling a little behind my schedule.

 I’m installed at the Albergue at Barcelos which is less comfortable than last night’s. One dorm, a dozen beds, one set of three showers, two working, for men and women  alike, supplied by a hot water tank on the other side of town. Just when I had given up, and was bracing myself for a cold shower, it spurted out, scalding hot.

The town is nice with quaint streets and little plazas, but not on a grand Spanish scale.