Day 7 – Baiona to Vigo – 24km
Breakfast was a proper sit-down affair, so no takeaway lunch today — just a coffee, toast and fruit. I left Baiona feeling pretty good. It’s a lovely little town tucked away from the rough Atlantic coast, more nestled in the Ría de Vigo than facing open ocean.
I decided not to follow the yellow arrows today. I’d been told the official Camino route led through industrial areas and a lot of hills. Instead, I followed the water’s edge, marked — albeit sparsely — with green arrows. This is part of the Spiritual Variant of the Camino, or at least a scenic coastal alternative. It wound past beaches and esplanades as I gradually left the coast behind and moved inland, following the curve of the Ría de Vigo.
The main challenges today were the heat and managing sore feet. There were a few gnarly inclines and declines, and at one point I had to walk along a short stretch of sand — never good news for blisters. Still, the day passed, step by step, and I eventually arrived in Vigo.
Vigo is very much a city. I walked through urban streets for a good two hours before finally arriving at the hotel. My room was directly opposite the lift — which is never a good sign.
After freshening up, I managed to find a little energy for a short wander. There were some nice bars along the waterfront, though most were a bit too pricey for me. Eventually, I found a bar that seemed to be a local favourite — La Pasillo. A couple of beers came with complimentary olives and peanuts still in their shells — a new twist for this part of Spain.
After a few relaxing pints, I headed back to the hotel. It was clearly a Saturday night — lots of well-dressed young folk were out and about, gearing up for a big night. Meanwhile, I was ready for bed.
As expected, it was a noisy night, with the lift being used at all hours and people making a racket. Still, I managed to get enough shut-eye.
Day 8 – Vigo to Arcade – 22km
I woke up a little tired, but nothing unsusual for me. Breakfast was satisfactory, though again no cheeky rolls — I spotted a sign saying takeaway food was prohibited. Maybe it’s a Spanish thing. I have noticed that things feel a little more serious here than they did in Portugal.
Leaving Vigo was a rude awakening — after and easy half an hour through city streets, the trail suddenly went vertical. Some of the steepest roads I’ve encountered yet, and they seemed to go on forever. Eventually it levelled out — but not before I was drenched in sweat — from there the trail remained fairly flat and shaded as it wound around the mountains inland. Mint!
The upside of all that elevation was the views — sweeping vistas of Vigo, the Ría, and the surrounding hills.
Sir Isaac Newton famously said, “What goes up must come down,” and true enough — if the climb out of Vigo was a slog, the sharp descent into Redondela really gave the legs a proper burn.
Redondela had a rustic vibe and was in the middle of celebrating Festa da Coca, a traditional local festival. The streets were packed with people who had come to see the floral murals laid across the roads and to enjoy the parade. Pilgrims were held up a little, having to find alternate routes around cordoned-off roads. I made a quick call to Mum while I watched some of the festivities — the highlight being dancers wearing giant papier-mâché heads, including devils, witches, and other colourful characters, all backed by traditional music.
I found a small café to refill my water and grab a quick bite, then hit the trail again. One more steep hill stood between me and Arcade, but luckily the hotel was just on the other side.
Five solid hours of walking today, and I’m quite glad that tomorrow will be the shortest leg of the trail.
I also met far more pilgrims today — it turns out many people begin in Vigo, which is about 100km from Santiago, making it the minimum distance needed to earn a Compostela. It felt like a bit of a boon as I overtook a few who were already grumbling about sore feet.
Tomorrow: Pontevedra!
