Portuguese Coast Camino - Day 6. Vila Praia da Ancora (Portugal) to A Guarda (Spain)

 

Monday 8 September 2025 – Vila Praia da Ancora (Portugal) to A Guarda (Spain)

In theory, this should be a relatively easy day. A 4 mile walk up to Caminha on the Portuguese side of the Minho estuary. A short ferry crossing into Spain, followed by another 4 miles around to A Guarda.

Leaving Vila Praia we passed some nicely decorated benches. Miles ahead we could see Monte Tecla just over the border in Spain. Behind it was our destination, A Guarda. We took the inland route heading for Caminha. This proved to be very quiet, and we encountered just one other person, the friendly Danish woman who we’d met yesterday. She was laying, chilled, like a statue on a big stone!

  

 

 

We got to Caminha at 10.30, two hours before the ferry that I’d booked was due to leave. Caminha was another very nice place, with a fine central square and old buildings. Coffee and “breakfast” were taken at a very leisurely pace.

 

 

 

Caminha

I visited the tourist information place, and they said that we could get an earlier ferry at 11.30, so we quickly made our way down to the jetty about half a mile away.

At the departure point there was another sign saying that there was indeed an 11.30 sailing. However, at 11.20 there was no visible sign of any ferry. A man at the adjacent restaurant shouted out the window and said that the ferry was now leaving “on the other side of the bridge”. We went there, but the water was only about a foot deep. Furthermore, there was also no way a “ferry” would be able to get under the bridge either. Bugger. With no obvious sign of anywhere that ferry would go from we were flummoxed.

We walked across to a café beyond the jetty. A couple of German’s were sitting outside and told us to go inside to get tickets for the “taxi boat”. Now this was the thing that the official ferry service had warned about NOT using. They weren’t licenced to land in Spain and had a poor safety record allegedly. Well, we had no choice to get the “taxi boat” or walk miles and miles up the estuary to cross a bridge. Tickets (€6 each) were bought, even though there was also no obvious place where this “taxi boat” would leave from.

 

After a few minutes, the woman in the café came out and directed us and the Germans towards a locked rusty steel gate. A swarthy little man appeared from nowhere and opened the gate, and then just around the corner was a speedy looking rib waiting for us. He helped us board and handed out life vests to 3 of us…..that’s all he had!


 

Yep - it's all official!!

The engine roared, and we tanked at breakneck speed across the estuary towards Spain. One of the German’s commented that he was beginning to understand how it was to be a refugee crossing in a small boat. A very poignant observation indeed.

It took no more than 4 minutes to cross the estuary and there we were -  one hour ahead in time, in Spain. Quite a little adventure!


 

The refugee's cross into Spain

 

We clear customs to get into Spain, and off he goes to get his next load

Rather than going the direct route to A Guarda, we went along the coast and round the base of Monte Tecla. The walking started off through a lovely fragrant pine forest just behind the beach. From here we could see Forte da Insua, a fortress on a tiny island at the mouth of the Minho estuary. With the Atlantic waves sweeping in around it, it had a mystical fairytale like air. Very beautiful and slightly ethereal.

 

   

 

After emerging from the pine forest, we stopped at Praia da Camposancos for lunch and a drink. Then it was time for a very well-deserved swim in the Atlantic. No gulf stream here, so it was a pretty brief dip. A perfect spot as it was slightly sheltered by the headland that we were walking around.


 

   

 

Onwards and into A Guardia in beautiful sunshine whilst being cooled by a gentle breeze from the Atlantic. A Guarda won’t win any prizes for aesthetics, but nevertheless it was great to be back in Spain.

We celebrated with a beer. Not just any beer; but my favourite Iberian tipple, La Mil Nueve. Yep, it was bloody great to be back in Galicia. Plus, of course more familiar food, signage, and above all, language. Bienvenido a España!

 

In the evening, we had a wander around the old centre of A Guardia (didn’t take long!) and then ate at Restaurante Xantar. The Danish lady came in, so we invited her to join us. Again, we failed to exchange names with her!

 

 


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