Heading to Galicia: Monção to Mondariz – 33.7km

We’re crossing the border into Spain again this morning and will be heading to Mondariz in our quest to reach the Galician coast tomorrow.

With such a long day’s hiking ahead of us, it would have been great to have enjoyed a good night’s sleep, but unfortunately the residents of Moncão seemed to favour the Spanish love of late night socialising – maybe it’s being so close to Portugal’s more extravert neighbour? Whatever, the singing in the main square and one particularly loud man kept me awake well past hikers’ midnight (around 9pm, if you’re wondering). I finally dozed off, only to wake with a start when our large, wall-mounted television sprang into life and refused to be switched off. Harri eventually woke and had to sort it out. To cap it all, the bouncing around of time zones resulted in my alarm going off at 5.30am rather than 6.30am as I’d intended.

Needless to say, getting ready for the long day ahead was a leisurely affair. The calorie-laden chocolate and custard-filled croissants we’d bought last night were delicious and didn’t last long. We washed them down with several cups of tea.

Eventually, we dragged our weary bodies out of the apartment at 8.07am. The morning air was coolish but – and maybe I was being overly optimistic here – the sky looked reasonably bright.

As we left Moncão, we pondered on how strange it must be to live in one of these Portugal/Spain border towns. You can literally have a coffee in Monção and have a second twenty minutes later in Salvaterra de Miño. But how can you ever know what time it actually is?

In a 2021 blog, Carlos Gomes explains how the traffic bridge was inaugurated on March 29, 1995. Prior to that, crossing the Minho involved a boat or ferry. Like Alcoutim (Portugal) and Sanlúcar de Guadiana (Spain), there were already close economic, cultural, social and sporting ties between the two towns; the building of the bridge just enhanced these. Looking down from the bridge, we could see the wide concrete quays where those ferries once departed, a reminder of former times.

The first thing we spotted in Spain a defaced European border sign – someone had obscured the word España with pale blue paint and scrawled Galiza over it. We saw little of Salvaterra de Miño other than the fortress walls that dominated the riverfront. The brickwork looked suspiciously like the work of the Portuguese brickie on the opposite bank, although this might be explained when you know Salvatierra was under Portuguese rule between 1643 and 1659 (although equally, it might have nothing to do with it!).

The riverside promenade on the Spanish side runs alongside A Canuda Park and was rather grand. No sign of wooden boardwalks here but several paved walkways set at different levels, lampposts, water fountains and a multitude of benches. There were unobstructed views across the Minho, with plenty of people out and about enjoying the morning air.

After a delightful stretch of walking through woodlands we reached the confluence of the Rios Minho and Tea and joined the SM3 Sendeiro Municipal do Rio Tea which hugs the latter for 7.5km.

At first, it was really pleasant to be walking under the canopy of trees. The sun was doing its best to break through the clouds and it was great to follow a riverside trail where you could actually see the river! Every now and then, we’d pass little areas of land where crops were being tended (mostly corn) – much like allotments in the UK but without any obvious fencing or even access roads.

For kilometre after kilometre, the riverside walking was level and non-technical to the point it started to become a little monotonous. Some people are never happy, huh? The river was becoming obscured by dense vegetation and there was nothing to look at except grass, trees … and slugs.

With the first ten kilometres under our belt, my feet were wet for the first time since we set off from Braga and I was getting bored. When we stumbled upon a picnic area, I nearly jumped for joy, although it was far too early to stop.

It’s fortunate I have an interesting hiking companion in Harri. As we meandered alongside the Rio Tea, he explained how the word ‘meander’ originates from the classical name for an ancient Turkish river. Once called Meander but now known as the Büyük Menderes, the river is known for its endless bends, curves and, yes, meanders.

Under the trees, the air was muggy and still. I noticed spots of rain hitting the water’s surface and worried that today was the day we were finally going to get a soaking. We passed under motorway and then, at the confluence of the Rios Tea and Uma, crossed a concrete bridge with barely-there safety barriers.

Today’s plan had always been to do a short detour to Ponteareas for lunch in a café. By this point, I was more excited about leaving the river trail to find something interesting to look at than to eat.

What a disappointment this Spanish town turned out to be. I’m sure there must be some pretty historic buildings or plazas in Ponteareas, but wherever they are, we failed find them. Instead, we stumbled arpund what appeared to be an ugly 1960s/1970s concrete jungle. Yes, it really was that bad. As we lsearched for somewhere to eat, I couldn’t help thinking it was the worst Spanish town I’d ever visited.

Eventually, we found a nice-looking café off the main square where the waitress spoke perfect English and asked if we were walking ‘the caminho’. We weren’t sure which caminho she was referring to so just responded, ‘some of it’. Our open sandwiches were delicious and Harri enjoyed his pint of Estrella.

What really hits you when you’re walking through Spanish towns is how busy they are compared to Portuguese towns of a similar size. For comparison, Moncão had a population of 17,818 in 2021, while Ponteareas had a population of 23,196 in 2024. There were long traffic queues at lunchtime in Ponteareas whereas Moncão felt sleepy at rush hour.

As if to emphasise the domination of cars, our onward route was blocked by roadworks. We attempted to get through but fencing made it impossible so we were forced onto the main thoroughfare up to the roundabout – which made me dislike Ponteareas even more.

Thankfully, after we left town, the walking improved. Now we were following a path on the other side of the Rio Tea. While the weather was much the same, there were at least some points of interest, like boardwalks leading to a fluvial beach. We left the Tea to follow undulating tarmac roads for a while, only to rejoin it later on.

There was a small diversion where a bridge had collapsed. Despite our weariness, the landscape was becoming more interesting with the Tea gradually transforming itself from sedate river to mountain stream, complete with my favourite boulders. Unfortunately, the improvement in scenery was accompanied by some climbing.

Finally, after a very long day, we arrived in Mondariz-Balneario, founded in 1873 and one of the most famous and largest spa towns in Spain.

There are unarguably some striking buildings here, however our first impression was somewhat diminished by an unfinished concrete monstrosity of a car park, not to mention the long line of rubbish bins and a huge number of parked cars everywhere.

Our destination was another climb away – of course – and, for once, I felt quite relieved. Mondariz proper (where the real people live) was much nicer with beautiful views of the mountains. We popped into the local supermarket before heading to our overnight accommodation.

It had been a very long day’s hiking. Of course, no sooner had we arrived in Mondariz and settled down for the evening, the sun decided to make an appearance. C’est la vie.

Our accommodation

We paid 60 euros to stay at Fina la Caprichosa, Mondariz, a traditional one-storey property. Unusually, we were greeted by the friendly owner, Roberto, although he didn’t speak English so there wasn’t a great deal of conversation.

I loved this little home from home with all its personal touches and the open-plan kitchen, dining room and lounge. I’m rewarding Fina la Caprichosa bonus points for having a washing machine and a separate laundry room where we could hang our damp clothes inside to dry overnight. My only criticism would be the lack of a kettle (there was a teapot) or any non-metal dishes to use in the microwave. With a little bit of ingenuity, I knocked up a quick curry with rice.

Our route

This stage is mapped at 31.5 km with 179 metres of ascent.

Tracking with Outdoor Active, I recorded 33.7 km with 319 metres of ascent.

Download the GPX file of our hike here.