Frustratingly, now we are finally embracing the whole pilgrim experience, it’s all about to end. Because today’s end destination is Fátima, marking the end of the mostly disappointing Caminho do Norte.
We left our accommodation with our rucksacks draped in last night’s washing. The fact nothing had dried brought home how humid these pretty traditional properties can be outside the heat of summer. You see comments on Facebook groups all the time from unsuspecting immigrants but we hadn’t realised quite how bad it was until we experienced it for ourselves. Fittingly, the day started with roadworks, although we couldn’t complain as it looked like new pavements were being installed along the road.
I was struggling to warm up – all my clothes felt damp – however, joy was soon returned to our lives when we stopped (as planned) at a nearby pasteleria. Pecado Divino (which translates as ‘divine sin’) certainly lived up to its name with a wonderful array of naughty sinful cakes. I chose a sumptuous, layered sponge cake which oozed nuts and caramel: it was just heavenly. Harri opted for an enormous custard croissant. With a galão and a pot of tea, our order came to an unbelievable 5,50 euros.
We left with full bellies. Thankfully, the morning was gradually warming up and the forecast was promising 26-degree temperatures later. The Caminho do Norte website divides its 364-kilometre route into 17 stages, however we decided to walk the caminho in 13 days. This meant that today we’d be combining stages 16 (from Bofino) and 17 (Seiça to Fátima), meaning we were facing an overall distance of 34.2 kilometres with 561 metres of ascent.
The café wasn’t situated on the caminho, so we’d walked 1.7km by the time we were back on route. There is so much overlapping of the caminhos here in Portugal. In addition to following the Caminho do Norte and the Português Caminho (in the wrong direction), since Coimbra we’d also been on the 111-kilometre Rota Carmelita. Talk about all roads leading to Rome!
Of course, this particular road leads to Fátima, a city which has become something of a holy grail for pilgrims who are not heading to Santiago de Compostela. Although I don’t believe in the Fátima apparitions, I was curious to visit the place for myself – and what better guise than a pilgrim?
We’re still undecided about whether to walk to Tomar tomorrow or catch the late morning bus. Yesterday, I’d had enough of hiking, but now I’m thinking we should finish what we set out to complete. And that wasn’t just to complete the Caminho do Norte but to walk the additional one-day caminho to Tomar. In fact, it would have made more sense if the Caminho do Norte had continued to Tomar, a city of far greater historic significance than Fátima, a settlement which didn’t exist until the early twentieth century, wasn’t elevated to town status until 1977 and only gained city status in 1997.
Harri said that, if he were ever responsible for devising a caminho route, he’d start it farther east somewhere like Chaves, and then head south through Portugal nearer the border with Spain. This would keep pilgrims well away from the commuter-belt between Porto and Coimbra. His proposed route would then guide pilgrims through the Serra da Estrela and on to Castelo de Vide (a place we loved), before crossing the country somewhere north of Alcácer do Sal. From there, Harri’s caminho would pass through Grândola and Sines, before joining the Historical Way of the Rota Vicentina. I’m sure it’s a long-distance hike that would interest many serious hikers, but would there be sufficient churches and point of religious interest along the way? I suspect not.
By 10am, it had warmed up sufficiently for me to remove my fleece. We crossed a stream on a small bridge and there was plenty of water flowing in it. Harri’s theory is that these small streams, like the one in Freixianda yesterday, are supplied by underground springs which find their way to the surface as opposed to recent rainwater.
We haven’t spotted a single pilgrim today. Usually when I say that, one will suddenly materialise but not today.
The Rota Carmelita
Since Coimbra, we’ve been following the Caminho do Norte and the Rota Carmelita, and it’s impossible not to notice the vast improvement in the route, waymarks and interpretation boards since we joined the latter. In fact, as Harri noted, the principles used for devising the Rota Carmelita appear to be in complete contrast to those used for the Caminho do Norte. The Rota Carmelita takes us off roads, even quiet traffic-free roads, as much as possible, whereas the Caminho do Norte seems determined for pilgrims to experience the very busiest roads Portugal has to offer. Rota Carmelita is also incredibly well-signposted, and every time you arrive at a place there’s a map and information about the place.
Hills, cloud and a cold nip in the air
Once again, our route took us through some pretty, wooded areas, with plenty of property renovations. In contrast to the Algarve (where fences are appearing everywhere), these properties and the surrounding land were mostly left unfenced. It dawned on us that we hadn’t seen any signs of fly tipping anywhere – one of the reasons landowners in the south give for barring access to others.
In Seiça, there was a bar, some restaurants, a supermarket, a hairdresser, a church and a pretty little cemetery. Some main road walking followed (take back everything I said above!) before we opted for another detour, which led us up a track. The reason for the strong pine smell soon became apparent. Many of the trees had small plastic buckets attached to their trunks and almost all were overflowing with resin. I made the mistake of dipping a finger into one of the buckets and found out to my peril just how sticky and viscous raw pine sap is.
This morning’s hiking was as promised: extremely hilly. As I puffed, panted and slogged my way up a particularly horrendous track, a small dog joined us. Showing no sign of exertion, the little monster kept stopping and waiting for us, as if to say, ‘Come on, what’s holding you up?’
Thankfully, there was a long, stone bench at the top of the hill so we stopped for a much-needed rest. Forget spirituality, I think the only emotion I’ll be feeling when we walk into Fátima is relief that I don’t have to walk any farther (unless, of courses, we decided to keep walking to Tomar).
At 15.7 km, we hadn’t seen a single pilgrim. All we can think is that the pilgrims who started in walking Lisbon are choosing an alternative route, which is a shame because the Rota Carmelita route is really scenic and, from what we’ve heard from other pilgrims the route out of Lisbon is the opposite. In fact, one online commenter describes the ‘dire walking’ out of the capital city.
During the morning, the weather had taken a turn for the worse. As we approached Ourém, there was no sign of the wall-to-wall sunshine the BBC weather forecast had promised. Instead, the sky was a miserable grey and the ‘light breeze’ chilled me to the bone.
Ourém
I’d been quite excited about visiting Ourém, but that was before I realised that the historical area of the city with the castle is quite separate to the modern part. And unfortunately it was through this newer area that the Rota Carmelita led us – visiting the castle would have meant a hilly detour on an already long and hilly route. In fact, the hill into Ourém was undoubtedly one of the steepest gradients of our entire caminho – although I reckon we still managed to outpace the young man who passed us walking down.
After all that effort, we were disappointed with what greeted us. Ourém’s main street was lined with ugly, modern blocks with little of visual interest. Perhaps it was the greyness of the day, but it was a ‘no’ from me. It was actually so cold by this point, that Harri didn’t even feel like a beer. In fact, I had to insist we stopped simply because I needed a breather.
Inbetween two cities
With only 16 kilometres of this final stage remaining, there should have been a real spring in our step, but I could barely find the energy to put one foot in front of the other. The disappointment about Ourém hadn’t helped, but the weather was really putting a dampener on things. By now, I was wrapped up in a fleece and the BBC weather site was still maintaining it was sunny and warm (25 degrees) in nearby Fátima. I dug deep and concentrated on keeping going, occasionally glancing up at the castle and wishing we had time to visit more of these attractions.
We crossed Ponte dos Namorados (Bridge of Lovers) where there was yet another stone cross and then we were climbing again. By the way, there is no tragic legend attached to the bridge – it’s simply named after its proximity to the Quinta dos Namorados. As we walked, we were amused by an unlikely football pitch somebody in this football-crazy country had constructed in their long, narrow garden – with an olive tree positioned between the goal posts.
The afternoon’s walking continued to be hilly and my energy levels continued to drop with every passing kilometre. With Fátima within touching distance, we walked along a drystone lane before clambering up a too-steep footpath to emerge at the bottom of eight enormous steps – I swear the rise on the first one was at least 40 centimetres. The only thing that brightened my mood was the presence of a cute cat. I found the cat treats I’d bought a few days ago and brightened its day too.
Arriving in Fátima
Moments later, the statues began to appear – which made us think we were closer to the centre of Fátima than we actually were. It seemed fitting that this final kilometre or two of the Caminho do Norte – much of it alongside freshly laid and steaming tarmac – was as tedious as so many previous stretches. This last stretch of level walking might even have been bearable had the temperature not further plummeted, making a late afternoon in early October feel more like a mid-winter day in Wales.
At the first big traffic roundabout, there were large, elevated statues of Fátima’s three ‘little shepherds’ without whose vivid imaginations this Catholic pilgrimage site might never exist. Back in 1917, local children Lucia, Jacinta and Francisco claimed they saw an apparition of Our Lady in a tree (Lucia, a devout Catholic, had previously claimed to see apparitions of the Angel of Peace in 1915). The children were believed and the rest, as they say, is history. Where there was once a tree, there is now a sprawling city dedicated to the worship of the Virgin Mary.
We continued along a cobbled, tree-lined pavement, noting the sprawling car park to our left and the wide road to our right. We hadn’t seen a single pilgrim today, but surely Fátima’s streets would be teeming with them? Nope. And not a single person wished us ‘bom caminho’ during the last kilometre of our long ordeal. I was hoping for a miracle – the late afternoon appearance of the sun, perhaps, or some relief from the achiness in my feet. There was nothing. Talk about an underwhelming finale.
Fátima proper
Except … it soon became clear we had yet to reach the real event, i.e. the Sanctuary of Fátima. This is the place of veneration to which millions of pilgrims flock each year – over six million people took part in at least one celebration in 2024.
To be honest, it was difficult for even this hard-nosed skeptic not to feel a sense of awe for the sheer size of the Sanctuary of Fátima. The vast central square where pilgrims gather is almost the size of St Peter’s Square in Vatican City. Which is incredible when you consider the Vatican has been a place of pilgrimage since the fourth century, but the spot where Fátima now stands wasn’t even a village back in 1917, just a large plot of farmland. The children who are purported to have seen the vision of Her Lady lived in the nearby isolated village of Aljustrel.
We continued, struggling to get our heads around the dimensions of what we were seeing as we passed what appeared to be a vast concert arena. We later learned this was in fact the 1.4-hectare Centro Pastoral de Paulo VI and was named in honour of Pope Paul VI (the first pope to visit Fátima in May 1967), although work didn’t start on the building until May 1979. The amphitheatre seats 2,092 and is actually one of the biggest in Portugal.
On a more positive note, Harri and I were impressed by the towering rust-coloured steel Cruz Alta (high cross) which stands at 34 metres high. We made our way across the main square where there was plenty to see, including many pilgrims – although the majority weren’t sporting rucksacks, suggesting they hadn’t arrived on foot. As we watched, some dropped to their knees and proceeded to shuffle down a line in the direction of the Basilica of Our Lady of the Rosary, an impressive church with a colonnade, 65-metre bell tower, marble sculptures and an entrance mosaic. Construction didn’t begin on this church until 1934. Then there was the Church of the Most Holy Trinity, another relatively recent addition to Fátima (it was inaugurated in 2007 but planned since 1973) which was built to accommodate still more pilgrims.
It was dusk and getting even colder so we turned away from the spectacle that was Fátima and made our way to our hotel. As we marched past row after row of gift shops displaying all manner of idolatry: everything from rosaries and statues of Her Lady to elaborate cassocks, I couldn’t help thinking of another well-known tourist destination … Disneyland. Out loud, I said to Harri, ‘This is like Disney for Catholics.’
Fátima was nothing like we imagined it might be. Perhaps naïvely, I’d been expecting some sort of historic chapel of normal Portuguese proportions, not a sprawling money-making extravaganza. Yet, it made sense when you thought about it: the already wealthy Catholic church would certainly seek to monetise a place where three children claimed to see an apparition of the Virgin Mary.
Here is a map of Fátima I found online.
Summary
Sadly, our final day on the Caminho do Norte was far less enjoyable than previous days when the scenery and route had really improved. There were far few prettier stretches again today, and Ourém proved a disappointment. That said, due to time, distance and the cold wind, we skipped the historic village. I’m glad we visited Fátima this one time, but I can’t see us returning … I think I’d prefer Vegas, which is at least honest about its mercenary capitalist agenda.
Our accommodation
We paid 62 euros for a double room and breakfast at Hotel Santa Isabel, Fátima, which is ideally located for all the sights and local restaurants. Breakfast was served in time slots as the dining room is small, but this being Portugal guests lingered regardless and the staff didn’t seem inclined to rush anyone.
Our route
Harri had initially mapped our final day of hiking the Caminho do Norte at 34.2 km with 561 metres of ascent.
The route we actually walked was 35.2 kilometres with 530 metres of climbing. N.B. This took us directly to our hotel after meandering around the main square.
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