Kissing the hand of a queen’s corpse, and other Camino hiking stories

On the Portuguese streets of Viana do Castelo, I typed into my phone, “Restaurants near me.”

But immediately, my search was interrupted, overlayed with notifications, the first of which said, “Queen Elizabeth II, the longest reigning monarch in British history has died.”

First the news was from the Wall Street, Journal, then the Washington Post, then USA Today, then the Associated Press, until I turned to Nancy and said, “The Queen died.”

Back under the search bar, results pulled up the same fish restaurant that had been recommended by the blue-masked, check-in clerk at the Hotel Larnjeira upon our arrival. His directions had been confusing — half in Portuguese and half in accented English.

In contrast, Apple’s map application guided us correctly along cobbled roads to the fish restaurant, but the entrees seemed expensive in the 33-euro range. So, we opted to retreat for kabobs at a Turkish venue we had passed. At that meal, play-by-play of a futbol game was more important than sobering news about the world’s most recognizable monarch. Or maybe it was too soon for management to know the Queen had passed.

But that news gap didn’t last long, because soon one television station after another started voicing a play-by-play on the life of the Queen, whom they called Isabella.

Shortly after passing the border into Spain, we learned that the former Spanish king, Juan Carlos I, had received an invitation to attend the British queen’s funeral. After all, he was Elizabeth’s cousin. But the Spanish government stepped in with a private message asking him not to go — maybe for two reasons.

One, the government would prefer his son, current King Felipe VI, to represent the country. He is Queen Elizabeth’s nephew. Two, if Juan Carlos appeared in London, it would be his first major, public appearance since his abdication — an event precipitated by an elephant-hunting scandal involving his son-in-law.

Oh the royal drama involving the international royal gene pool, a hunting brouhaha, and Spanish face-saving maneuvers!

Television reports about Queen Elizabeth appear effusive here in Spain — as best I can gather from my poor mastery of the language. But it’s not as if Spain and England always got along.

Just today we rambled along the Consorcio Casco Vella in the Spanish city of Vigo. By accident, we stumbled upon a fort wall on a hill above us.

It remains as the remnant of a fledgling, ineffective construction to defend Viga from enemies arriving by ships. Among the most notorious was the paid, English-sanctioned pirate Sir Francis Drake, otherwise made famous by landing in Marin County, California to claim territory for England. Nancy and I stood on the hill wondering how it was possible for this wall to protect the city. In the end, it did not. It’s better positioned today as a venue for selfies, so we obliged.

Contrary to my third-grade teacher’s portrayal of him, Francis Drake eared the title “dragon.” I learned today, he commanded 213 English vessels into the Viga estuary, whereupon he landed to burn 570 houses and a church. He later went on — as second in command — to defeat the Spanish Armada off the coast of France.

But today the Spanish and British royals are related, and they will get together in London next week for their photo ops, forgiving each other their history, so they may pay dutiful homage to the Queen.

At least they won’t have to prop up the Queen’s corpse on a throne and kiss her hand.
That’s what happened in Portugal hundreds of years ago when a love-struck Prince Pedro declared his murdered lover the legitimate queen of Portugal and forced the nobles to kiss her skeletal hand. Look the story up. It involves politics, murder, assassination, civil war, incest, conspiracy, revenge, and mental illness. And if you think the story is legend, check out Pedro’s grave stone, where the entire soap opera is sculpted out in 3-D.

Oh the stories we learn while walking on the Portuguese Coastal Route to Santiago, Spain! Stories and faces. We’ve encountered them from all corners of the world on this trail, including our meet-up with two women from Northwest England who were going to stop short thier trip to Santiago.

“I’m glad I’m going to be home in time to see the (Queen’s) funeral,” one said.

View of Viga, Spain, from the city’s defensive wall on a hill

2 thoughts on “Kissing the hand of a queen’s corpse, and other Camino hiking stories”

  1. Thank you Ted. Very informative and interesting. So much history to try to keep straight. I recently discovered Queen Isabella and King Ferdinands palace in Barcelona, with a letter written to Christopher Columbus hanging on an outside wall, sending him on his journey in 1492.
    Love your posts.

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