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Limping and making carefully one step at a time, I made it to a place called Montedor. I stepped into a Cafe which was named after the town, ordered a cafe and a toast with ham and cheese and sat down outside.

My foot is broken – so, what now

von | Jun 28, 2020 | Camino Portugues | 0 Kommentare

“My foot is broken and what now?”

That’s what I asked myself after the first 10 kilometres, while I was on my way to Vila Praia de Ancora. Well, actually – it was after I made the first step this morning. Something was not right. I had already fixed my small toes, as both showed signs of inflammation. So, to protect them, I added some cotton on top of them and plastered them up. That seemed to have worked but after a few steps, I realised that my big toe on the left foot was behaving strangely. I could not see anything weird on it but the pain was there and got somewhat stronger and stronger with every kilometre I walked. It felt like and inflammation in the foot and so hindered me on making proper straights.

Limping and making carefully one step at a time, I made it to a place called Montedor. I stepped into a Cafe which was named after the town, ordered a cafe and a toast with ham and cheese and sat down outside. While I was waiting for the toast, I take off my shoes and socks and inspected my hurting foot. I wasn’t able to see a thing and as soon as I was out of my boots, the pain disappeared. So, what now, I thought? The foot seemed to be broken or at least unable to get me the last 9 Kilometers to Vila Praia de Ancora, where I had pre-booked a bed in a hostel right at the beach. Well, I had my toast, drunk my Cafe and as I was not able to get to a conclusion at this stage, I ordered a beer and watched my foot. In the end, I spoke to the bar lady and asked her to order me a taxi. I knew that all that would help me now was to simply rest the foot and hope for the best. I even was okay to taking off a further day to allow the foot to heal. I called up a friend, who would be able to advise me on the issue of internal inflammations in a foot and so I was clear about my resting action.

The taxi arrived and brought me almost to the doorsteps of the hostel. As the driver did not speak Spanish, German or English and I no Portugues did we agree, that I walk the rest instead of trying to explain the way. I knew what to do, and so decided on resting the foot, as good as I possibly could. Right outside the hostel was a little bar and so sat there for a few hours, watching the Tohuwabohu of Portugues beach culture.

Bom Caminho
Sven

P.S. Here the photos from today and yesterday. ENJOY

 

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