Beginning the Via Augusta: Cadiz to San Fernando

Setting out on the Via Augusta

 “Many journeys, often ones you didn’t plan to make,
take you to an unexpected destination that turns out to be exactly where you want to be.”
C. Lee McKenzie, The Princess of Las Pulgas

Via Augusta Stage 1

Today was our first day walking the Via Augusta, a 190 km route that follows the path of a Roman road connecting Cadiz to Seville, Spain. The Easter celebrations around the Cathedral of Cadiz went on until well after 10:30 PM last night, and we could hear the sounds of drums, trumpets, and other instruments filtering in through our hostel window.  The festivities called to us, but a long day of walking ahead prompted us to stay in bed, hoping for a few hours of sleep.  Regardless, we woke up around 6:30 AM, when the streets were quiet and the skies outside were still dark. 

Slow Start on Camino

We had a bit of a slow start, packing our backpacks for the first time in a while and putting the last few things into the suitcase we are hoping will be shipped to Casa Ivar in Santiago de Compostela for storage until we get there.  Casa Ivar offers an excellent service which allows people to ship their suitcases, backpacks, and other packages from anywhere in Europe for storage up to three months for 95 Euros.  It has excellent reviews, but it was still a little unnerving to simply print off a barcode, attach it to the suitcase with saran wrap (plastic food wrap), and walk away from it, trusting the Spanish Correos would pick it up from the hostel after we left and deliver it to Santiago de Compostela.

Morning in Cadiz

Eventually, we headed out for breakfast, passing small groups of people who were clearly still heading home after a night of celebrations.  It is always a strangely disorienting feeling to meet people who are still finishing up yesterday while you are beginning today.  Most shops and cafés were still closed, but the narrow winding streets were slowly coming to life.  We were surprised to see people heading to work, including construction workers, as we had assumed today would be a national holiday. Maybe closures for Semana Santa will be less of a challenge than we expect. Only time will tell.

    

While we waited for the cafés to open, we walked back down to the main square and took a last look at the Wind Surf, still docked where we had left her.  There were two very large cruise ships in the harbour alongside her, meaning the narrow streets of old town would likely fill up with tourists soon.  A line of people was already disembarking from the Wind Surf, presumably heading out on shore excursions.  As we begin the next stage of our journey, taking our first steps northward towards Santiago de Compostela, a new group of passengers is embarking on their own voyage at sea. 

Easter Mass

Soon, we found a small café tucked away in an alley, filled with both locals and tourists, and sat outside while enjoying the strong, rich flavour of our first café con leche of the Via Augusta. 

After breakfast, we headed over to the Iglesia de Santiago Apostol to see if we could get a stamp for our pilgrim passports.  When we stepped inside, mass was just beginning, so we took a seat at the back and stayed for the service, joining a group of only half a dozen very elderly residents.  My extremely limited Spanish has improved to the point where I could understand some of what the priest said, but not as much as I would have liked.  

Attending Easter Mass in Cádiz felt, in many ways, like being at a pilgrim’s blessing before setting out on pilgrimage.  As best as I could understand, the homily spoke of how the path that we are on as people and as a society must change. The priest reminded us that the burdens we carry are heavy, and the journey ahead is long.   In particular, the priest noted that the path we are on as a civilization is wrong.  He highlighted that the political path, the social path, and the economic paths, which increasingly lead to conflict, also now mean that the youth of Europe can no longer excel or afford to build families or have homes.  Arguing that we all must change to ensure that we have a sustainable and stable way forward. And that change, he said, begins here, within each of us and with each of our actions.

When the mass ended, the church very quickly filled up with tourists coming up from the cruise ships.  Suddenly, we were in a crowd of people, each jostling mass attendees and local residents to take photos of the ornate gold altar and the magnificent-looking Easter float that filled much of the back of the church.  The peaceful ritual of the mass was done, the priest had disappeared from view, and we were in the midst of a noisy horde that showed little respect for the church itself.  The focus of the sanctuary quickly (and depressingly) shifted from worship to selfies. 

Pilgrim Credentials and Stamps

We decided to head back to our room to pick up our backpacks and check out, hoping that if we returned in a few minutes, the crowds might have dispersed and it would be possible to get a stamp for our Camino passports.  Unfortunately, when we tried again, we were ultimately unsuccessful.  There was a bit of a language barrier, but as we understood it, to receive a Camino stamp, we would need to wait until 'mas tarde' (later), when the priest had time to hear our confessions.  Not being Catholic, the prerequisite of going to confession would have been a barrier to getting a stamp, at least for me. 

Furthermore, since the priest was clearly very busy with Easter duties, and there was no indication of how long 'mas tarde' might be, as such, we decided to head out.  It was just as well, since the church was being closed to the public and a group of men from a local confraternity, all of whom were wearing matching purple Semana Santa t-shirts and hernia belts, were rather abruptly telling people to leave.  I quickly retrieved our passports from the side of the altar and was very roughly shoved out the side door along with a group of mildly protesting tourists. 

Starting the Via Augusta

"A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step."

Lao Tzu

Our failure to receive a stamp from the Church of Santiago and our abrupt dismissal left us a little shaken, but we did recognize that this is Semana Santa, and as a result, pilgrims on the Camino are not a priority amidst all the other activities and events that are going on.  Clearly, the men of the confraternities are very focused on performing their respective roles and duties within the community, and we are simply not a part of that. 

Resisting the feeling that we had been thrown out of the Church by a group of arrogant thugs, we decided to focus on being grateful that we had managed to receive a stamp from the Cathedral.  Sometimes you simply have to accept how things work out and move on.   So, we stepped outside, took a selfie under the 0 km marker on the wall of the church, and we were off!

Happily, the Via Augusta was extremely well marked during the entire stage today, which we decided to make a very short one, walking only 12 km to San Fernando. It would certainly have been possible to continue on to Puerto Real, which is what the guidebook had suggested, but after a winter of working in front of computers and doing no training whatsoever for this hike, we were not in good shape physically and thought it best to take a slow start.  We followed a similar routine on both Camino Frances and Camino de Madrid, preferring to trek a short stage on our first day or two to allow our bodies the opportunity to get used to the weight of our backpacks. 

After all, we all have to take care of ourselves as we have more than 1200 km of trails, paths, and roadways to trek before we reach Santiago de Compostela.

Setting off, we followed the familiar yellow arrows and tiles out through the old town of Cadiz, across a roundabout, and onto the wide seaside pedestrian walkway.  Cadiz’s Barrio del Populo, which is considered to be one of the oldest in Europe, we traced en route to the ocean shoreline and public walkway.  

Just before we reached the sea, we spotted an arrow attached to the trunk of a palm tree, which I think is a first for us on any Camino so far.  Somehow, the rows of huge palm trees give us a strong sense of our close proximity to Africa, which gives this city an exotic feel.  

Bird watching the Spanish Coastline

As we set off down the seaside walkway, we noticed that the landscaped gardens on the inland side of it were filled with a huge number of different trees and plants, many of which were in full bloom. To our delight, there seemed to be a large number of birds moving among the branches of the trees and the blossoms that bordered the walkways. 

Among the highlights were colourful green Monk Parakeets, who made a raucous din in the palms.  Iberian Chiffchaffs moved stealthily among the blooming borders, and we spotted the olive and cream plumage of Western Bonelli's Warblers among the foliage, looking like the Kinglets we see in North America.  We also noticed a few Sedge Warblers foraging on the grass, and a single Western Subalpine Warbler perched on top of a pile of purple wisteria blossoms.

Beach Walkway 

For the first few kilometres, we followed the beachfront walkway, with a busy city street on one side and a long expanse of golden brown sand with the light turquoise blue of the open ocean on the other.  Rush hour was just beginning, so the street that ran below the rows of apartment buildings and hotels to our left was busy, and the shops and cafes that bordered the far sidewalk were opening up and filling with locals.  Above us, the sky was hanging heavy with dark storm clouds, and a breeze was blowing in off the sea, but it wasn't at all cold, and we were feeling pretty good, if a little skeptical about the weather.

As we made our along, fairly large waves were pushing in to shore in long bands of white foam, making beautiful patterns on the beach beside us. There were several surf schools making full use of the conditions, and long lines of people wearing brightly coloured shirts were practicing with their boards on the wet sand.  There were also other groups of young people out on the beach practicing handball with much energy and laughter. It was a lively coast, and it felt good to be a part of all that movement and positive energy.

The walkway itself was busy with people out jogging, walking to work, pushing prams with children, and walking their dogs. As we made our way around the Bay of Cadiz, we left the old town behind and entered a stretch with resorts, hotels, and more trendy shops.  Behind us, there was a lovely view of the old town and the domed roof of the Cathedral above it.  Looking out to sea, we spotted a Great Cormorant perched on a rock just offshore, the brilliant yellow patch at the base of its bill clearly visible from shore.  To our delight, we also received our first 'Buen Camino' from an older gentleman who walked past, giving us a kind and encouraging smile.

Buen Camino

When we were nearly to the end of the ocean side walkway, we were stopped by another gentleman who introduced himself and asked if we were pilgrims on the way to Santiago.  It turned out that he was the president of the Asociación Gaditana-Jacobea-Via Augusta. 

He asked where we were from, and took our photo for the website, as well as offering to take a picture on our phone to mark the occasion.  We also received our second 'Buen Camino' of the morning! What are the chances of this random encounter?

Along the Boardwalk

Eventually, the wide, tiled seafront walkway ended, and we diverted onto a wooden boardwalk that bordered the Playa de la Cortadura.  This narrow spit of land connects Cadiz with San Fernando and the rest of Spain, and it supports both a busy highway and a tramway. Looking at the map, we had feared this would be an unpleasant stretch of walking, but it turned out to be a nice hike along a wooden boardwalk, slightly removed and sheltered from the roar of the highway by a gorgeous natural area.

Following this long promenade, we crossed the isthmus that joins Cadiz to the mainland.  Beside us, large sand dunes rose up, mostly blocking our view of the ocean.  They were covered in very interesting dune grasses, small shrubs, succulents, giant agave plants, and many blooming wildflowers. 

We'd learned from previous walks on the Rota Vicentina in southern Portugal and the Camino Portuguese Coastal routes that April and May are good times to walk in this region, but we'd forgotten just how many plants and trees are in bloom, and how beautiful it smells and looks.  It was such a joy to be surrounded by so much colour and new life.

The area around the boardwalk was fenced off to protect and rehabilitate the impressive-looking sand dunes that towered over our heads.  A sign at the start of the boardwalk explained the initiative and provided the names and photos of the birds, insects, lizards, and plants that might be found in the area. 

As a result, we walked very slowly, keeping an eye open for any signs of chameleons, shorebirds, spoonbills, or flamingos.  We didn't manage to spot any, but we did see plenty of Yellow-legged Gulls soaring overhead, several Barn Swallows doing an aerial ballet above us, as well as joyous groups of European Goldfinches bouncing through the air in a very similar way to American Goldfinches. 

Salt Flats and Marshlands

We thoroughly enjoyed the boardwalk section of today's trail, but when that ended, we were in for another treat! The trail took us past a military zone and then into the Cadiz salt flats! These salt flats have been in use since ancient times, and they contributed greatly to the reputation of the region, as salt was an extremely important commodity.  As a historical aside, the word 'salary' is, in fact, derived from salt, because this is what was used to pay soldiers and workers in ancient times. 

At one point, the salt flats around the Bay of Cadiz occupied around 5,000 hectares, an enterprise that was possible because the area is naturally suited to salt production, with hot weather conditions and large expanses of mudflats, tidal marshes, and estuaries. 

We followed a raised and hard-packed gravel trail through the salt flats, which consisted of long raised rows of weedy vegetation that were separated by long, narrow, shallow bands of water.  We walked through during low tide, so in many channels the sticky brown mud was exposed, but when the tide comes in, all these channels fill with salt water.  Although by this point the sun had come out, and it was starting to get very hot on the completely exposed trail, it took us forever to get through this section because it was absolutely full of birds! 

Shorebirds and Tidal Zones

Flocks of shorebirds were wading in the shallow waters and along the muddy banks of the grassy islands.  We spotted Ring-necked and Kentish Plovers picking their way along, as well as much larger Whimbrels using their downward curving bills to probe the mudflats for small shrimp or flying past overhead in large groups. 

One of the more elegant residents of the salt flats was the Little Egret, whose graceful, snowy white outlines created focal points across the mudflats. 

Another bird that was present in relatively large numbers was Black-winged Stilts, whose striking black and white plumage and glowing pink legs are difficult to miss in the open landscape. 

They could be distinguished from the Pied Avocets, who also wore black and plumage but who have a curious habit of swinging their heads from side to side as they skimmed their upward-swooping bills through the shallow water.

About halfway through the marsh, we crossed the Rio Arillo, a small tidal river, on the muddy banks of which sat the ruins of the Molino de Mareas. This mill was once part of a large network of hundreds of tidal mills scattered along the Iberian coast between Faro and Cadiz that used the free and predictable power of the tides in estuaries and marshes to turn their grinding stones. 

The oldest known tidal mills date back to the tenth century, and were found in Mesopotamia and south-east England. This type of mill enjoyed a rise in popularity during the 17th and 18th centuries, but then fell out of favour following the Industrial Revolution.  The mill on the Rio Arillo once contained twelve grinding stones for wheat, but it ceased operations in the 1930s.

Across the river, we were pleased to find a picnic table with a small wooden roof over the top for shade (or protection from rain).  We were glad to take a short break and escape the hot sun, but quickly took the opportunity to watch more birds.

A highlight was spotting six Greater Flamingos foraging nearby.  Curiously, as they stood knee deep in the shallow water, they seemed to be stomping their feet up and down, presumably to stir up their tiny prey.  This was combined with a side-to-side sweeping movement of their large beaks that was similar to the behaviour exhibited by the much smaller Pied Avocets.  We were also delighted to see three Eurasian Spoonbills take flight out of a small creek nearby.

Amazingly, the birds weren't the only entertainment.  The ground itself looked like it was alive, as almost every exposed inch of sticky brown mud was covered in West African Fiddler Crabs.  Many of the males were sitting half in and half out of their large, round burrows, rhythmically waving their one large claw to show their dominance and attract the females.  Periodically, they would dart out to face off against a rival before retreating back to their holes.  It was highly entertaining.

Arriving in San Fernando

We spent so much time birding and watching crabs that it was nearly 2:00 PM by the time we reached San Fernando, on the far side of the mud flats.  Although this was a very short stage, only around 12.9 km, we had decided to take it slow, because we knew we would have a late start, and after racing through the Hadrian's Wall National Trail last year in just a few days while missing most of what it had to offer, we had decided to force ourselves to slow down.  I think we made the right decision, as we thoroughly enjoyed the day.

When we reached the edge of town, we followed the Via Augusta down a wide, busy street with two tram lanes that was bordered by modern, white stucco buildings.  We soon found our accommodations and were checked in by a very friendly and helpful lady at the front desk.

After dropping off our backpacks, we went in search of something to eat.  Soon we were sitting outside, enjoying a cold beer and a snack of verdura con tempura, which also came with half a baguette.

We had found a very interesting bar with a nice covered patio outside, and although it was located in a modern-feeling complex of buildings, we were happy to sit in the shade and simply enjoy.

Parque Natural Bahia de Cadiz

After our short break, we headed back through the streets of San Fernando, which were bordered by white stucco homes featuring wide bands of yellow, blue, or red trim and inlaid azulejo tile details like the homes in Portugal's Algarve, which we fell in love with while walking the Rota Vicentina.  I had thought this distinctive style was unique to southern Portugal, but seemingly it is common in the south of Spain as well.  

Soon we were back at the salt flats that lie to the southeast of the town, eager to walk the trails that wound through them.  At the entrance to the trail system, we saw a sign for EuroVelo Route 8.  We had been following this route since leaving Cadiz and were curious to see a map of it, which showed that it leads all the way to Rome! 

This was quite exciting, to think that we were standing on a pathway that connected us to Rome.  Also, we had passed earlier in the day by an Australian with a fully loaded bike who looked like he was just finishing the route, and it was fun to imagine what an adventure that must have been!

As the sun began to sink towards the horizon, the wind took on a bit of a chill.  Still, we had great fun birding the salt flats and marshes just east of San Fernando.  We again spotted many of the bird species we'd seen on our walk into San Fernando, with some notable additions, including Curlew Sandpipers, Eurasian Stone Curlews, and Sanderlings. 

We didn't spot any other birders, but we were by no means the only ones out on the trail.  We were glad to see it was well used by local walkers, joggers, and cyclists who were taking advantage of the opportunity to immerse themselves in nature right on the edge of their city.

Sunsets in Southern Spain

Eventually, we called it a day, stopping on the way back to our hostel at the grocery store to pick up some food for dinner and some supplies for tomorrow's breakfast. 

It had been a wonderful first day on the Camino, full of many blessings. 

See you on the Way!