It was a very cold, 1-degree-Celsius morning in Foncebadon. The sky was stained a dark navy blue and it was raining lightly, while a thick fog flowed through the hills.

I joined Peter, Morag, and Keith for a morning coffee and then Keith and I waited outside and admired the hazy blue landscape. The sky moved onto a lighter shade of blue, but the mist and rain persisted. Foncebadon had a strange feel this morning, somewhat surreal. Peter and Morag joined us and we headed off. I was eager to get to the first stop of the day, the Cruz de Ferro. I have been carrying four small stones from home for Sandy, Kieran, Aleksander, and myself that I intended to lay at the cross.

The cross seemed to materialize out of the mist in the distance and I picked up my pace a bit. I did not expect that the act of placing the stones there with the scores of others would be such an emotional thing, but it was. I thought of my family; how much I missed them, how important they are to me, and how incredibly good they have been about me following my dream to Santiago and Finisterre. Their support is what keeps me going.

Keith and I walked on to Ernmita de Santiago. We took a short breather and then headed on to Manjarin. We encountered some cows along the way, gave them greetings, and took some pictures. We then came upon Thomas the Templar’s albergue. It was a riot of colour and knick-knacks – Sandy would have loved it. Thomas has coffee and biscuits available for Pilgrims and he sells templar t-shirts and stuff. I met Alex there and we chatted for a few minutes before I had to move on. There was also a cute little cat sneaking about.

Shortly after Manjarin, Keith and I came across Danny. She joined us and the three of us headed off to the some food at El Acebo. Keith was not feeling well and needed to get some food. We followed the path downhill into the wet road into El Acebo and found the café on the left. It was packed. The proprietors had everyone put their packs to one side in a huge pile. We were lucky to score a small table. We got our food – tortilla and café con leche – and rested our weary selves. Keith in particular looked haggard and he considered stopping in town for the day. Danny offered him some herbal pills that are much like having a Red Bull or two with extras. By this point Peter and Morag and arrived and we had found a larger table. I then had enough time for second café con leche! After a bit Keith decided that he would go on. Good news indeed!

We walked on to Riego de Ambros. Along the way, we encountered a very large flock of sheep and goats tended by a shepherd and a couple dogs. They were running all around us, it was kind of fun. We entered the town itself and stopped for some water in its tiny but pretty plaza. The entire town is pretty and it was like a storybook. I liked it.

The next section of the Camino is reputed to one of its most beautiful. I completely agree. Leaving Riego de Ambros we entered a wonderful, wooded narrow valley with some switch backs and lovely little quiet spots of shady green and brooks. The trail then leads through to the other side of the valley and started climbing slowly. On this section, the right side is a sea of wildflowers and the left offers a wonderful view of your day’s travel; a widened valley and the mountain range beyond. We searched the distance across the valley and spotted El Acebo, and the path leading back to Foncebadon.

At Molinesca, Keith, Danny, and I stopped for come cerveza and snacks. Keith chatted with some pilgrims at another table and we listened to 80′s rock and enjoyed the nice cool bar as it had warmed up outside. Peter and Morag joined us, and we moved outside to sit at the street tables, and a cat came for a visit.

We headed off to Ponferrada. The weather was warm and sunny. I guided Peter for a while to give Morag a break. Peter and I chatted as we walked through some lovely wine country. It was a pleasant afternoon. However, we were all tired by the time we arrived at Ponferrada. We crossed the busy bridge, and the sound of traffic was loud after the lovely quiet walk we had.

We waited in line to register ourselves and a volunteer worked through the line giving shoulder rubs to people that wanted them. There was also a volunteer tending to peoples’ feet. I found my bunk and was a bit alarmed; it was quite narrow and has no side on the top bunk. I wondered how I’d sleep tonight and if I’d fall the six feet to the concrete floor at some point. Oh, well. Wait and see.

I did some laundry and then sat on the shaded patio for while with a cerveza that I bought from the vending machine. Have I mentioned that I love Spain? I noticed the Embroider was sitting quietly stitching Ponferada on her sweater; I nodded and she quietly returned my smile with one of her own.

Finally, a group of us (Keith, Danny, Peter, Morag, Petra, Sarah, and Irwin and a couple of others whose names unfortunately have escaped me) went in search of the Templar fortress. However, there was only partial success; we found it but it was closed for the day. So, we walked around it in awe and then hunger grabbed us and we went in search of some food.

We followed the streets through a series of small plazas until we found a place that promised gourmet pizzas made on the spot (not like the frozen ones we had in Sahagun). The pizzas were very tasty and the wine was good. The one sad part was Sarah announced that she couldn’t continue and she was flying home the next morning. I felt very sad for her, but I hope that once she recovers she can come back and complete her Way.

I called Sandy and talked with the kids for a few moments as well.

Once we were back in the albergue I read for a while, tried to use the Internet (unsuccessfully), and after finishing this entry I hope to sleep without falling from my bunk. Good night.

Soundscape – Goats and Sheep

Soundscape – Walking in the Wind

I woke this morning amazed that I didn’t fall to the concrete below. Sleep didn’t come easy as I was really concerned that I would move more than a few inches and tumble down. The bunks really are narrow in Ponferrada. We dined on bread, cheese, chorizo, and fruit in the main hall. Out of curiosity, I rooted through the discarded clothes/equipment pile that you find in most albergues. I found a nice floral dress that seemed to spark the jester in Keith’s soul. Within minutes, he had the dress on, bringing smiles and laughs from the pilgrims in the room. Keith has a way of bringing a smile to people’s faces. He certainly brightened the room this morning.

After breakfast, we moved out into blue morning light of Ponferrada and worked our way through the streets. Along the way we came upon statues of the Pepper Women. The women are chopping and cleaning peppers, which I assume are popular in the area. I walked with Peter, Morag, Keith, and Danny. Along the way we stopped in Camponaraya long enough for some café con leche and tortilla or pastries. Shortly thereafter, we stopped again so I could get some throat lozenges to deal with the rough throat I woke with.

I started to lead Peter again. It was a little bit harder as in town you have to pay closer attention to obstacles such as branches, curbs, and thin walkways and parked cars. I enjoyed the walking with Peter though as he has a great sense of humour and he is simply an interesting person to chat with. We walked through a fair bit of vineyards and pleasant rolling hills. There were many poppies along the way as well as a huge amount of traffic on one of the dirt roads we were walking down.

We decided to stop in Cacabelos for a lunch and we all decided that hamburgessas were in order. It was a nice little café and the burgers were quite good. We all had a good laugh when Danny tried to add some ketchup to her burger, the cap popped off, and a huge mound of ketchup appeared on her burger, plate, and table. The woman who was running the café helped clean it up and supplied a new burger. I then adjourned to the street to tend to my feet, not something you want to do in a café. Morag joined me and we chatted a bit and enjoyed the soft sun that was shining down on us. We all had some ice cream and headed off. We discussed the fact that we were getting low on some pack food and that we were not sure if we would make Villafranca del Bierzo before the siesta.

So, Keith and I volunteered to pick up our pace and do the shopping for everyone. So off we set, just as the sun decided to burn hot. It was a stifling walk; there was little shade and a lot of dry open fields and hot roadways. We turned off the main Camino to follow and small side path that travels through a small village and through the hills instead of following the highway. We enjoyed the walk but were concerned that we may miss the shops. So we sped up a bit more and made Villafranca del Bierzo at about 1:30. Villafranca del Bierzo is a pretty town with several plazas and roads that run left and right and up and down. We found ourselves a Dios and quickly picked up our shopping list. We were beat at this point, my legs were wobbly, and my knees and toes were hurting. So we found a table at an outdoor café, removed shoes and socks to stretch our toes out, and had some large cerveza. I also ordered up some patatas and spicy cheese sauce. Heaven.

We waited about an hour. Finally, Keith decided that the others may be sitting in one of the other plazas; so I sat and waited on look-out while he went to retrace our steps. When he got back, he mentioned that he saw Petra. She said that she had left Ponferrada late and that she hadn’t seen Peter, Morag, or Danny. They must have gotten ahead of us at some point. So, we geared back up and set off for Pereje. It was another five klicks and to be honest we were still a bit tired, though somewhat revived by the food and drink. We followed the Camino, we crossed the pretty bridge that leads out from Villafranca del Bierzo, and walked at a good pace, hoping to get to the albergue as soon as possible. The road followed the highway the entire time, and although some of the terrain on the left was pretty, we didn’t really take much notice as we were fairly goal driven at this point.

Finally, the Camino swung off the highway a bit to run through the small village of Pereje. It was a 31 km day. Walking through this, quite literally, one street village that sits on the side of the highway we searched for the albergue. It was, of course, at the far end of town. Thankfully, that wasn’t too far.

We found the pretty albergue’s reception area empty but for a note on the table referring people to the café/bar to sign in. We went in search of a bed to throw our gear in front of. We ended up in the basement where we finally caught up with our companions just as they were deciding to come looking for us. Reunion time! So, we went through the normal catch-up chat while we all divided the food and unpacked for the night (I’ve lost another sock… Sandy will have to bring many clothes for me). I showered and then walked a couple of klicks down the highway looking for a phone as Pereje has no public phones or net access. I didn’t find one, but I enjoyed walking along the large creek that followed the highway. I even stopped to watch a fly angler for a few minutes. When I go back, I found that the others had headed off to the café patio that sits across the road from the café itself. Peter, Danny, and Keith were sitting having some cool cerveza and I joined them happily. After the first one, Morag showed up from her nap and I went in to buy the next round, and while I stood at the bar, I noticed high on a shell a bottle of Maker’s Mark bourbon. I couldn’t believe my eyes. I ordered up a glass. They staff had to get a chair to reach the bottle and they needed to dust it off before uncorking it. I happily went back to join my friends. Peter and Morag had never had a nice bourbon so I offered them a sip, which they seemed to enjoy. I certainly did.

We finally went in for supper, which was nice. Then we headed back to the albergue to wind down, write, administer some first aid to ourselves, and I called Sandy courtesy of Peter and his cell phone.

Tomorrow we will take a short day (only 22 km) as it’s all uphill. I’m looking forward to O Cebreiro tomorrow. Seven days to Santiago.

Soundscape – Café con lech por favor

I slept well last night but I woke up with a bit of a head cold. Thankfully, I was able to shake it off through the day.
We had a simple breakfast in the albergue that consisted of the standard fare: pan, chorizo, oranges, cream cheese, goat cheese, and juice. Then we slung our packs and merrily headed off into the street of Pereje in search of some café con leche. Shortly after leaving Pereje, the highway merged with another and we found a motor stop with diner. We settled down with some café con leche and packaged pastries. We chatted over the warm, slightly frothy cups and looked over the sale racks of old CDs and the guidebooks which were several years out of date. Just outside, we noticed a scale. Keith, and I decided to weight ourselves and found that Keith has lost a lot of weight and he noted that when Alice sees him she is going to kill him. He’s going to try to increase his calorie intake. I, on the other hand, haven’t lost anything. I console myself with the idea that muscle weights more than fat.

Keith and I headed out off at a common pace, which is somewhere between his normal pace and my normal pace. We came upon a nice little pilgrim’s statue of Santiago, so we sat for a few minutes, refilled our water, and took some pictures of the statue. We then continued along the Way which followed the road; which wasn’t too bad as the terrain on the side of the road was lush and green and we passed several babbling brooks. We also came upon an incredibly huge bridge that spans over a wide valley. It was so very, very high. Spain has gone through a boom in infrastructure due to EU equalization payments. Very impressive bridges, but I don’t think I would be very comfortable using one…

We made good time through the mist and the intermittent bouts of light, drizzly rain, and when we arrived at Las Herrerias we were feeling good. We stopped at a nice place that had a terrace overlooking the countryside. We sat on the terrace and had two infusión de menta each and we shared some Kit Kat bars. By the way, the Spanish seem to love Kit Kat bars, you will find them in almost every mercado, café, and bar. It was a very pleasant break and we stayed put a little longer than we normally would. We asked the café owner about the antique forge that was supposed to be in Las Herrerias. Unfortunately, it is apparently no longer in town. No one even seemed to know exactly what had happened to it. Oh well, no pictures for Pedro.

After the refreshments, we left Las Herrerias and started the steep climb to La Faba; which is a three-hundred metre elevation change in a relatively short four km. It was however, a lovely walk. We could have taken the alternative route that stays by the road, but Keith and I wanted to get back into the countryside. The path was a bit muddy in spots but it was pleasant and there were lots of bird calls and a happy, whistling Keith. Some areas were very rough going and we had to resort to handholds to get ourselves up in some spots. We also had to stop a few times to catch our breath. But it felt so very good.

We snaked our way up to La Faba where we stopped for a pop and some crisps and we met Mette and Chris. I gave Mette a big hug as I haven’t seen her in a while. I was pleased that she was still wearing my shell. They have been traveling together for a while now. Chris’ pace matches Mette’s pace and he has done the Camino before and she pointed out that he was a good guide. I think he mentioned that he is an Englishman living somewhere in Ireland. We sat with them and chatted a bit until it was time for them to head off. Keith and I had a second pop and the nice lady who was running the café was kind enough to fill our water bottles which we had used up quenching our thirst on the last four kilometers.

Shortly after we set out from La Faba, we encountered the Galicia marker stone. We celebrated with a whoop, a nip of water, and a photo opp. Finally, Keith and I set off on the last leg of the day to O Cebreiro.

O Cebreiro is a beautiful place of lovely stone buildings nestled on the top of a mountain. We did a little shopping in the gift shops; and we a bit surprised by the amount of Celtic symbols we found. It brought home that fact that the Galicians and the Irish share Celtics ancestors. Even the music playing in the shops sounded Irish to my ears. Our purchases done-a necklace for our wives-we moved into one of the restaurants to dry off and warm up. We were pretty wet by then, and we peeled off layers and hung our ponchos and fleeces to dry on a banister. We had some cerveza-what, you’re surprised?-and we shared some pan and pulpo. Ok, Keith had the pulpo and I just had a nibble, I’ll stick to the calamari from now on. We finished it off with some more infusión de menta.

Peter, Morag, and Danny showed up to our cheery greetings and we decided not to walk any further today and to stay here. We walked over to the albergue which is very nice; modern, nice kitchen, good showers, and a decent laundry. I did the group laundry, we lay back a bit and relaxed, and then we went on walkabout. We visited the Church of Santa Maria, which has a wonderful feel and some pretty architecture. We sat scattered in the pews quietly for a while. Then we gave wandered the church, took some pictures, and admired the reliquary. A miracle was supposed to have taken place at that church in the 14th century when a peasant braved a snowstorm to get to the church in order to hear mass. The priest criticized him for coming so far just for a little bread and wine. At which point the bread and wine literally turned into flesh and blood and the carved bust of Mary on the wall turned its head to view the miracle. I believe that Pope Innocent VIII confirmed the miracle in 1487. The remnants of the flesh and blood are housed in the reliquary. The reliquary itself was given to the church by Queen Isabella, I believe.

Finally, we set off for supper and we scored a nice table on the second floor of the restaurant in a windowed alcove that had a beautiful view of the valley below. The views from O Cebreiro are great. We had a few lovely shared family plates of pasta and lomo, lots of pan, and some lovely wine. Finally, tired and sated (have you noticed a pattern here…), it was time to bed.

Good night.

Soundscape – Stream and Birds
Soundscape – Whistling Keith

Michael called me today from O Cebreiro – he walked over and up the hills without a twinge to his knees. There’s very few phones or internet sources. The last couple calls have been made over his companions’ phones – their kindness is much appreciated.

He did mention this fabulous restaurant in Foncebedon. Here’s the URL:
www.latabernadegaia.com

Looks like he will make it to Santiago on May 27, and then take a bus to Finisterre the next day. He’s hoping that he can have a farewell dinner with friends afterwards. He should be in Madrid on the 30th to meet me at the airport or hotel!

We left O Cebreiro in the mist, lots of it. It was very difficult to see. But I have to admit, I like mist so I thought it was lovely evocative walk.

The long winding trails lead up and down following a cliff face. After a while, it lead Keith and I though a small forest and then a sharp right through the mist. Ahead, we could see other pilgrims like ghosts in the distance. The path then took a very steep left turn that took us out of the mist and gave us a great view of the terrain we had just walked past; vast, rolling Galician hillsides. It was beautiful. Thankfully, the steep climb was short and we came upon a highway that we would need to follow a while. There sits a very striking pilgrim statue where the trail meets the highway. Keith and I took some photos and then set off. I think Keith and I got confused once or twice regarding the route, but we figured it out in the end.

There seems to be a lot of slate in this region and we came across several slate outcrops on the side of the trail with water flowing down in very pleasing waterfalls. As we were getting close to Tricaste, we were walked through a shaded trail that literally overhung with green branches like a canopy, the climb down was a bit slippery and treacherous, but we knew we were close to food and rest so that raised our spirits considerably. We noted that Paco, a Spaniard that we have been seeing off and on for weeks, was ahead. He was giving a large piece of chorizo to another pilgrim who didn’t seem to speak Spanish but was obviously very thankful for the food, as he looked quite done in. Pilgrims take care of pilgrims.

At Tricaste we had lunch waited a while for Peter and Morag to show up. Tricaste is the where the Camino breaks into two possible routes to Sarria; the traditional northern route or the slightly longer Samos route. Finally, we decided that Keith would go on to Samos if for no other reason than to try to ensure beds for Peter, Morag, and myself. Danny was walking with Mette and Chris today as she is tired and didn’t expect to get as far as Samos, so we hope meet up with her in a day or so. So, Keith went ahead and I sat at an outdoor café waiting. A full hour went by with no sign of them, so I geared up and starting walking back the way I came. Thankfully, I didn’t have to go much farther than a kilometre or two when I met up with Peter and Morag. They, and a group of others, were turned around in the mist this morning and were taken a good bit off the Camino. They actually had to stop a car in order to get their location and figure out a route back to the Way.

I sat with them at the outdoor café while they ate. Both Peter and Morag where tired from the extra walking and from the stress of the day. So I left them to rest after a bit to get some shopping done as none of us had had a chance to pick up any foodstuffs for the trail or tomorrow’s breakfast. I found a place only a few blocks away that was surprisingly open during siesta. I even found some plums that I thought might be a nice pick-me-up along the way. We split up the food among our packs and then headed out of Tricaste. At the edge of town, we took the left turn to Samos and started a lovely sunny walk through some beautiful countryside. This is classic Galician countryside, rolling hills, lots of flowing brooks and waterfalls, and cows, a fair number of cows.

At one point, just after we had crossed bridge that covered a pretty, little stream, we took a right to follow a small road that inclined up the side of a little cliff. When we were about half way up we noticed a very large cow had turned the corner at the top of the rise and was walking towards us. These cows seem massive up close and their very wide horns are truly impressive, especially to Canadian Prairie boy like me who is used to seeming cows with much smaller head accoutrements. It wasn’t too bad until it started to actually slide down the wet slippery road on its hooves. It shuffled its feet to maintain balance, but a good portion of the way down it slide more than anything else. We gingerly moved to the side and pressed up to the cliff face. It was amusing to watch, that is until the rest of the herd turned the corner and we had about a dozen cows sliding down the road that we were on, Slip-sliding horned beasts seemed to be everywhere. Morag and I started to laugh, because really what else was there to do? Morag described the scene to Peter and he joined our chuckle.

We passed by a very picturesque little town that although looked lived in, no one seemed to be there. The little river that runs through town has a little diversion built in with a little waterfall. There was a group of sheep that sat near the falls that called to us in what I assume where demands for food. As well, the town was filled with collections of large stale slabs standing on end like CDs in a rack. They seemed to be everywhere; beside houses, shed, barns, and along the streets. I guess that some of the townspeople make slate roofs and walls, which not an uncommon method of roofing and fencing in Galicia. As I mentioned there is an abundance of slate here.

At the edge of town was a small community graveyard. We were impressed with the graves for such a small place. One might expect small little markers just to denote location, but no, the graves markers ranged from at least chest-high structures to large stone structures that obviously contained the remains. Quite possibly, they prefer stone internment to ground internment in such a wet region.

The route from that point to Samos was a lovely canopied trail of green light, rock walls, and expansive trees cover with patches of moss over everything. We sat for a rest and I presented the plums for a snack. They were cheerfully accepted and we ate them while Peter and Morag told stories of the food shopping in a Paris. It was a nice rest. We threw the pits into the forest and I wondered if the climate would allow them to sprout.

We turned the corner and suddenly we could see the Monastery of Samos before us. It began to rain. Then it began to rain hard. On top of that, my feet hurt from blisters and the wet shoes were not helping. I picked up my pace and followed the winding switchbacks that lead into Samos. I have to admit, the monastery looked fabulous in the rain, but I was so happy to check into the albergue; which is housed in the monastery itself.

We unpacked, found Keith, and settled into our bunks. I had a quick shower, set my stuff to hang, and went back into the rain looking for a phone to call Sandy. Along the way, I ended up in the monastery gift shop and found that the next tour would be at 5pm and that it only cost 3 euro. I went back, told Keith, and decided that yes, it would be a good idea to wake Peter and Morag to let them know. Then I went out into the rain yet again in search of a phone and some Internet. No internet today though, it is down and unavailable. Finally I found a phone and connected using an arcane phone card, I chatted a few moments with Sandy. It was so nice to hear her voice; talking with Sandy is one of the things that keep me going. I said hi to Max as well. Then I stopped into a café for a warming café con leche.

I booted it back to the monastery for the tour and we had a wonderful, Spanish only, tour of the monastery. Which was okay as the building holds its own without explanations. The murals were evocative and the chapel itself was quite ornate striking.

We then headed off to a chilling but satisfying dinner with some wonderful, warming soup and wine that just never seemed to run out. We chatted far-and-wide, about the Camino, faith, and life in general. After dinner, Keith called Alice and I called Sandy again. Then we all trundled off to bed.

Soundscape – Birds
Soundscape – Walking the Path in the Wind

Michael called yesterday to say there’s no internet. Apparently every town he’s been in for the last few stops, the internet has been down – karma’s so much fun…

He’s stayed at a medieval monastery – I could hear the bells pealing in the background – in a town called Samos. The monastery has been part of the Camino for a long time, and looks beautiful.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Samos,_Galicia,_Spain

They are hoping to put in 30 or so km today and end up in Portomarin.

We are hoping to put in 30 or so km today and end up in Portomarin.

Today Keith, Morag, Peter, and I set out at bit late at 7 am. We stopped for café con leche and croissants and then started our walk to Sarria. As we were leaving Somos we came across a pilgrim statue. We lined ourselves up around it and a passing pilgrim took our photo for us. Morag and Peter noted that we only had five days to go. That was rather exciting news!

The first 12 km were fairly easy to walk, mostly just grey weather with a spot of rain now and then. Keith moved ahead and I fluctuated between walking on my own and walking with Peter and Morag.

Which reminded me of the time a few days earlier where I had been doggedly walking though grey wet weather, at the edge of a town that I don’t remember the name of, and I felt very much down and tired. Peter and Morag were walking not too far from me and they decided to sit and take a rest. I joined them and try shared some lovely confectionaries with me. It really brightened my day. By this point, it had been raining most of the day and I headed off again.

I arrived at a small town and stopped at the first café & bar after entering town. This has become the agreed upon spot of choice while walking. It gives us a chance to meet throughout the day if our paces are not too far apart.

Keith was waiting for at the counter, café con leche in hand. The café was nice and shiny; very modern compared to many places I’ve been in the past month. It was all glass, dark wood, and metal. It looked more like a place a broker would stop into for his siesta beer than a place for pilgrims. However, the café con leche was good. Peter and Morag arrived which gave me an opportunity to have a second café and a pastry. We relaxed a bit, used the facilities – ooo, automatic faucets – and generally warmed up.

In Sarria I stopped into a farmicia for some more painkillers. When I came back out into the street, I found the group talking to Anne! I had not seen Anne since Burgos and it was wonderful to chat, catch up and exchange hugs. By the time we hit Sarria we were in dire need of more coffee so we each drank another two café con leches. Helps you get through the day.

Along the inclining streets we followed in Sarria are a series of wonderful murals. I strongly suggest anyone along the trail take a few moments to look them over.

By the time we left Sarria my blisters were starting to become uncomfortable. They had previously healed and the skin hardened, but with the moisture in Galicia (it gets more rainfall than England), the calluses seem to have peeled off. I was back to fresh skin that was just ready to blister.

The last 22 km that afternoon (it was a 40km day) was in the rain, with mud up and down the Galician back roads and cow paths through numerous hamlets that do not even seem to have a name. At one point, the rain had caused an uphill trail to become a small river that was deeper than our ankles. That was a rush.

We all grouped to gather somewhere along the next part. Walking in the rain and keeping company as we passed the very lovely Galacian countryside. We were on the lookout for cakes in a specific café along today’s route. We were getting tired and it seemed like we had been walking a fair bit and, for me at least, the search for the cakes become a quest unto itself. I knew that the name of the town in question started with an M and that it had a Horreos by the café. We had thought we had reached it when we arrived at Mercado (strange name for a town I thought) and we entered the café had some warm drinks and eat some cake. Nope, it was not the place. The cakes were just barely okay. Oh well. Keith asked how much farther it was to Portomarin and the lady behind the counter said 16km. We were fairly sure she was wrong as we had all miscalculated the distance to Portomarin to be about 25km; so there was no way that after all this walking there was still 16km to go. Well, it turned out we were off on our calculations; it is 36 km from Samos to Portomarin. It was going to be a long day. As we sat there, the heavens opened up for a quick downpour. I waited for it to subside and then I went out to sit on the front bench to tend my feet.
Camino Tip: Do not bandage your feet in a café! I’ve seen it done and it isn’t pretty.

We once again hit the Camino and one we went. The rain came in light waves for the next 4 or 5 km and we finally came across the town of Morgade. There was a pretty, little café. Here we found our cakes! They were very good; I had two if memory serves me. We sat in the bluish light, sipped our café con leche, and suddenly the heavens opened up again. Keith noted that Morag must been in good with someone up high as we had by good fortune to have been inside during each of the heavy rains today. As we sat there amused by the thought, some soggy pilgrims came in and booked a room on the second floor of the café. The rain had gotten to them and they just wanted to be dry. I cannot blame them. The day was wet, rainy, and for us much longer than we had mentally prepared for, and I was a little envious of a dry warm room.

However, off we trudged. Keith and I picked up our pace a bit to stretch our legs and we shortly came across the 100km marker. Now we know that the Camino markers are notoriously inaccurate, but it was a marker and we very happy to have arrived there. We took some photos, with the kind help of fellow pilgrims, and we waited for Peter and Morag who arrive shortly thereafter. Another round of photos!

The rain started to fall again, but not as heavily. The countryside was wet and soaking and many little streams and creeks flowed here and there. We came upon a part of the trail that traveled directly up the side of a hill and the water in the areas was so abundant that it was pouring down the trail. The trail was a on a good 40 degree angle and the water still maintained a good 3-4 inch depth. We tried to use some rocks to keep out of the worst of it, but finally we all gave in a just sloughed up the hill, the water twirling about our ankles. What could we do? We laughed. Felt good too.

At this point Keith moved ahead of us, and I moved a bit ahead of Peter and Morag. I came across a group of women who were very concerned about how to get through a deep pool that was completely covering the trail without getting their shoes wet or dirty. I was a dumbfounded as they stood there and discussed the problem in their near pristine hiking runners… I excused myself to get though the knot of people and just walked through the pool. Feet can only get so wet.

We all met again shortly before Portomarin where we all stopped for a bit of rest. We could finally see the town sitting on the riverbank in the distance. We trudged onward, crossed the bridge to town, and then I stood there well and truly exhausted, my blisters on fire, and my knees aching; looking up a stone stairwell of several dozen steps I had to walk up. Sigh. Well, nothing for it, up we went.

We checked into a private albergue (one of the red albergues I think) as it has more resources. I unpacked, showered, did our laundry (the laundry room had a wonderful patio opening with a fantastic view of the river), exchanged some e-mail with Sandy, and relaxed for a while. We went to dinner at the neighbouring private albergue (I’ve never seen two private albergues right beside each other like this) and planned tomorrow. We should reach Santiago in 4 days and we have less than 100 km to go! I’m really very tired now.

Soundscape – Bells of Samos in the morning

I stayed at: Albergue Ferramenteiro.

A few notes about Spain.

Bathrooms in public places often do not have toilet paper, nor soap in the dispenser, nor towels (or the dryer does not work). The lights are on timers so they can turn off at inconvenient moments, and often there is no toilet seat ring, only a porcelain bowl. I have only encountered one old-style squatter, and that was in Leon.

All bars serve coffee, and all cafes serve beer and spirits. It is not uncommon to see public workers stopping in for one quick drink before or during work. I saw a police officer have a lunch time beers and three postal workers have a morning coffee and shot. This is normal.

People here are really very friendly and helpful. Especially with pilgrims. People will literally go way out of their way to help you here.

The food is amazing here – from the sandwiches to the daily or pilgrim menus - they are all good. Wine is usually very good and the wine you get with one of the meals is often very local. So much so that there are no labels on the bottles.

The walk today, although not spectacular visually was pleasant. After yesterday’s never-ending walk, the 25 km we did today was refreshing. We even made it to the albergue before the rain started! Bonus!

The walk itself leads through a series of small hamlets and villages, some as little as one km apart. I started with Keith, but his pace was too much for me; did I mention he was a 59-year-old Scot? The man can move and he easily maintains about 6-6.5 km per hour. So, I fell back.

At one point I found a little roadside café just 10 meters beyond a left turn on the trail. I decided that food would be worth the extra few metres and I set myself down with a café and chorizo bocadillo. The bread was very fresh and I sat on the wet, grey patio to watch pilgrims make the left turn. Peter and Morag walked by and waved, I toasted them with my café, and I sat back and rested. Finally, I went inside for some packaged tarts and I set off along the Camino.

About an hour down the trail, I caught up with Peter and Morag. Morag is fighting a bad cold so I shared the packaged tarts with them and guided Peter for about 5 km to give her a break. Which reminded me of the time a few days earlier where I had been doggedly walking though grey, wet weather, at the edge of a town that I don’t remember the name of, and I felt very much down and tired. Peter and Morag were walking not too far from me and they decided to sit and take a rest. I joined them and try shared some lovely confectionaries with me. It really brightened my day. The small little kindness can really make a day on the Camino. I hope the tarts were as welcome today. By this point, it had been raining most of the day and I headed off again.

Again, it was an easy walk and the conversation with Peter was as always good. Not too much pain and I handled it better Keith greeted us as we entered Palas de Rei and we checked into the albergue. We had made the albergue by 1:15. This left us with lots of time to claim beds, unpack, and prep for the next day.

We did some cleanup, internet, then went shopping with Keith and Peter while Morag rested some more.

First, we went to a small mercado just down the street. We picked up some chocolate, fruit, bread, meat, and cheese. We stopped in at a café that sits right across from the albergue. We had a cerveza, and then decided that it was too loud and left. We headed down the street and found a nice little family run café. It was warm and homey feeling. We had some more cerveza and ordered up what I think may have been the best calamari I’ve ever had. We dropped the supplies back in the albergue, chatted with Morag for a few moments, and then headed off to the internet cafe that was just only a building or two over from the albergue. We, surprisingly enough, had some more cerveza, chatted, and periodically watched Spanish television.

It occurs to me that people may interested to know what the average pilgrim’s day is like. This does not include the tourigrinos (who are a blight on the Camino and I will not mention now – perhaps in a later post).

At 5:45, wake up, try not to wake up any late sleepers, dress, pack, and wash up. Leave the albergue at about 6:30 and start walking. Pray that in the next 1 to 18 kilometres you will find an open cafe. In the meantime, eat any snacks you have left from the day before. Walk, walk, and walk, until your breakfast doesn’t do it for you anymore and find a cafe and have a bocadillo or a tortilla. Walk some more until you have covered the planned distance; hope to find an albergue with empty beds, collapse for a few minutes. Feeling refreshed, unpack, roll out your sleeping bag, shower, and rest. Perhaps investigate the village or town you are in and look for restaurants that have Pilgrim Menus. Go out for dinner with your companions and pray that you get back to the albergue before the doors are locked. Go to sleep and repeat. On Sundays, you need to have food purchased from the day before, as many places are closed.

Finally, we moved back to the alburgue. I booked my room for Santiago with Peter’s phone and then Peter booked rooms for Morag and himself.

We had a nice, if slow supper. The dinner conversation turned serious and we discussed the Camino and how it has impacted us. In general, I think we all agreed that in most ways it is too early to tell, but we all had some ideas about how we want to make changes to our lives. Peter pointed out that the sight of the Cathedral in Santiago will be a very different experience for those that walk. We’ll have to wait to see how it all pans out, but we all agreed that the Camino was a significant event in our lives. So with heavy thoughts we ordered a second bottle of wine and then headed back to the albergue for sleep.

God help me, I am confused and tired. Time for bed

Soundscape – Walking
Soundscape – Brook

While walking to Hontanas, I looked back to see a figure walking towards me wrapped from head to toe. The only thing showing were the eyes. It was a strange sight but I had walking to do of my own, so on I went.

I heard more about this woman as time went on and I spotted her occasionally in refugios. She appears to be in her early 20s, and she is slim, with fair skin, light coloured eyes and blonde hair. I’ve never heard her talk, but I have met others that have.

She always walks alone. In the evenings after everyone is unpacked, showered, done with their laundry, and are sitting around talking, she is still alone. She sits there and embroiders on her jacket the name of the town that she finished the day in, and the number of kilometers that she had walked that day. Today, she will have added her 90th town. She has been on the Camino for 90 days, walking from her front door in Belgium.

She is quiet, smiles when you greet her, and she walks. I do not know her story, the whys and hows of it all. But she is an amazing young woman, and she walks to Santiago de Compestela for reasons of her own. God speed to her.

Morag, Peter, Keith, and I had breakfast in the albergue hall as it is Sunday and most places are closed. Then we headed off and were out the door before 7 am.

The walking was fine, and mist once again clung to the fields. The sky was clear though and when the sun hit the fields you could see mist rise from the soil. I stopped in a beautiful little town in an albergue call Albergue Abrigadoiro that has a café in front. It had a nice little dog hanging around front that I played with for a few minutes before I went in for a café con leche.

I sat at the counter for my first coffee as the place was packed tight. It was very nice inside though; countryish and eclectic. Peter and Morag showed up as a room became available at a long table to we sat down to share some more café con leche and some food; very nice tortilla. Keith was by now several towns ahead of us. On the way out I played with the dog a little more before I set off again.

We made Melide in good time, just before 11:00 and we stopped at a Greek diner to have burgers for the protein and I added a Kit Kat for energy (BTW: Kit Kats are big in Spain). As we walked through the rest of the town we saw a bar with two huge cauldrons over fires with massive pulpo (octopus) in broth. Melide is famous for its pulpo, but 11:00 is a bit too early in my books. I searched for Lithium and was thwarted. I did find some, but the line up in the photo shop was just too long so I had to move on.

There was a street market happening and the streets were busy. I had to really look for the Camino shells and hope that I did not get lost. Luckily I didn’t make any wrong turns and I met up with Peter and Morag at the edge of town. On we went.

The afternoon walk felt a bit longer than it actually was, I think we were worried about getting a bed in the albergue and the rain clouds gathering… While taking a short break, Morag and Peter both noticed that their hiking shoes were now shot with holes and think that they will just last to Santiago.

I moved on as I was tired of walking and decided that the best way to make it stop was to get to Arzua. I made good time and I ended up getting here at about 2:00 pm. Keith had set us up at a Red Alburgue (sort of a federation of private, good quality albergues) and I settled in. I joined Keith for a beer while we waited for Peter and Morag.

We all washed up and lay about for a while. I started up some laundry,  e-mailed back and forth with Sandy for a little while, and then I decided I needed to hear her voice. So I took some more painkillers, tended my feet, and set off in search of a payphone. I headed down the street, which was rather like a downtown business area of a smaller town. Shortly another street veered of from the main street I was on, I followed this arm as it looked less business orientated and I thought it might contain some nice places to eat later. I came across a nice looking pizzeria/bar that looked promising. I headed back and found a phone along the way and gave Sandy a call. She made me laugh and I was feeling better.

I told the others about the restaurant and we headed out for dinner after the laundry was done. The pizza was really very good and we sampled some darker beers for a change of pace. The restaurant was amazingly smoky, which I’m getting used to but it was very much bothering my sore throat. So, after I ate and had some juice, I left some money with Morag to pay for my meal and I left them to wind down while I headed back to the albergue to rest. I found a small variety type of shop that sold batteries and I picked a up a few for my camera. The camera has been chewing through non-lithium batteries like they were nothing. It will need some repair when I get home.

I settled myself down in my sleeping bag to get rid of the chill of the cold and wet weather and listened to the small selection of songs I have on my little recorder. Once I was warmed up and rested up. I went in search of this computer.

This was the last longish day to Santiago. It was about 25 km. Tomorrow is only about 18 km and the day after is 20 km into the Santiago de Compestela. It is strange that it is getting so close, but I am looking forward to the closure and to seeing my family again.

I think I’ll go rest some more.

Soundscape – Rain Water Running
Soundscape – Birds in the Rain

I stayed at: Albergue Don Quijote

I am sitting in cold rainy Arca now…

The day started a little bit later than normal, as we had only to complete 20 km today. So, we slept in until 6:30, packed up, and stayed in a café drinking café con leche and nibbling on croissants and tortilla until 8:00. My head cold is getting worse so Morag provided some cold meds and off we went. I am not looking forward to the prospect of vacationing with my family in Spain and Germany with a head cold. I hope Sandy remembers to bring some Cold Effects.

I kept a good pace up today, keeping up with Keith. The walk was not great though, as it was constantly drizzling or all out raining. The tracks were muddy and there was a cold bite to the air. The bright spot of the day was at about 10:00 when we arrived at a tabernia in Salceda called Casa Jerde. It was a lovely little spot with candles burning on each table and lots of handmade art about. Even the restroom signs were hand drawn with chalk on the doors.

Keith and I had two shandies and a banana each. Power snack. When asked for a sello (pilgrim stamp) by Keith, the lady behind the counter provided a lovely hand-drawn one for his credential. It was beautiful and I asked her to add one to mine as well. Normally I only get stamps from places I stay at or cathedrals, but this was so nice. Morag and Peter showed up and we sat with them for a bit and had some mint tea to warm us up before braving the rain again.
Again, Keith and I made good time and we made Arca a little after noon. We did a good 20 km of mud trails and rain in about 3 hours and 45 minutes. Not too bad.

We arrived in Arca and almost went the wrong way to the albergue, but we ended up in another private one. It was actually very nice and the showers were very nice. There was a large tree behind glass in the middle of the sleeping area.

We were worried that Peter and Morag would not get a spot so we booked them in and saved bunks near ours. The rain started shortly after our arrival and it rained harder than any other time I remember on the Camino. It was a deluge. Keith and I anxiously waited by the doors, and he even ducked down the street to ensure they knew which albergue we were staying in. The rain stopped shortly after a very wet Peter and Morag came through the door escorted by an equally wet Keith.

We relaxed, dried, washed up and simply hung around for a while resting. Morag and Peter lay down on her bunk and she read to him from her copy of David M Gitlitz’s The Pilgrimage Road to Santiago. . She reads to him daily, I believe, about the section of the Camino they hope to walk the next day. Keith was off writing in his journal, and I decided it was time to do some shopping.

I walked down the main street of Arca to get a feel for the area. Not many restaurants the way I went and I did not want to walk to the other side of town, so I picked up a couple of things and headed back to the albergue. We finally headed out for supper, but the meal wouldn’t start until eight o’clock so we sat down for drinks and some nuts that we retrieved from a vending machine. The room was thick with smoke, or at least it felt that way to my rough, sore throat. I begged off after a while and headed back to the albergue. I snacked a little and lay in my bunk.

Keith popped in a little later to let me know that the restaurant had opened the dining room and the smoke was very light there. I went to join them and I’m glad I did, as the paella and the lomo was quite tasty, and the bread received high marks from us all. The wine was red, but not nearly as chilled as is often the case in Spain. Peter did a bit of a double-take at that as he prefers his cool, but not as chilled as it is often served here. He was pleased.
We paid our tab and set off for the albergue and our beds.

It seems strange, but we are now only 20 km from the Cathedral of Santiago de Compostela. I am somewhat bewildered by that. The end is so close and shortly thereafter I will be with my family again. That will be the sweetest reward I can offer myself.

I did it.

We left Arca late this morning (late for the Camino that is) at about 7:30 or so. Things started badly as after about a kilometre on the road I noticed that I had left my satchel somewhere. My satchel not only carries the wide-angle lens for my camera, but my maps, guides, voice recorder, etc. I had to jog back and retrace my steps before I finally found it. I had to really move to catch up with Peter and Morag. I had no chance of catching Keith.

Once I caught up with Peter and Morag, we continued in the sunny weather. We entered Lavacolla and the local church bell rant twice. We are not sure why, it was ten minutes to the hour. Then it rang a few more times. We think that perhaps someone was ringing it whenever a pilgrim went by the church. We then stopped and sat on a small bench in front of a mercado for soft drinks and snacks.

As we were leaving Lavacolla, we found the stream that pilgrams had been using to cleanse themselves since the middle ages. Traditionally they washed their privates, but we settled for rinsing our hands.

Peter and Morag both rinsed their hands. I decided to splash some water on my face and I almost fell in. Then as I tried to stand I almost fell in again. The water nice and cold though and it was worth it.

Rain had been expected, but I figure Morag pulled some strings on high and the weather held at mostly sunny as we walked around the airport and up to Monte do Gonzo, which is on a hill overlooking Santiago. There we met up with Keith as planned. At one point you would have been able to look down towards the Santiago Cathedral but due to development in the city the view no longer exists. We did have a chance for a quick drink and time to look over the large statue placed to mark the Pope’s visit.

The four of us finally headed on, and shortly after entering Santiago, we met up with Keith’s wife Alice who had flown in from Scotland. It was lovely to met her after hearing so much about her from Keith along the way.

Alice, who had investigated the town the night before, led us right to the Cathedral de Santiago. When it came into view, it hit us that this was it. It was the end, and we had finished the Camino. We walked numbly around from the side to view the front of the Cathedral.

Once we saw the beautiful facade, a flurry of hugs and congratulations erupted from us. Several eyes, including mine were teary. We stood for several more minutes unable to really process it, I guess, and then Alice took some photos of our group in front of the Cathedral.

Slowing coming out of it, we then moved to the pilgrim’s office, presented our credentials, and received our Compostelas. We staggered out into the streets, and we all set off to our respective hotels. No more albergues for us!

I checked into my hotel (Hotel Pazos Alba) (getting lost only once along the way) and settled in. I will be staying two nights so this is an opportunity to go through my stuff. I had a bath for the first time in a long time and soaked the trail away. I felt clean, really clean!

After resting and calling Sandy, I set off into the streets with my trusty hotel-supplied umbrella. I wanted to get to the train station to get my tickets to Madrid. The walk felt nice and the train station was a nice piece of architecture. I picked up my tickets and then stopped for a snack and cerveza. I happened to enter the same café that two Spaniards who I met my second day were sitting. They spoke no English and my Spanish is rudimentary at best. But they always smiled and greeted me warmly and inquired how my knees were doing. Strangely, I have never learned their names, but now I finally have a photo of them.

As I headed back to the hotel, I stopped in at a clothing store for a few items and a fruit stand for snacks.

So, here I sit in my hotel, writing this in clean clothes, well bathed for the first time since April 28, and looking forward to Mass tomorrow at noon. I hope the day is nice as I haven’t had much time to photograph the cathedral.
Well, that is it for now. I’m going to get ready for my second last dinner with new friends that I may never met again. We will meet at the cathedral and then walk the streets in search of our meal.

As for what the Camino has done for me. I really can’t process all it yet. It may be a while. I do know that I have learned a lot about myself, my family, and what things in my life are good and what may need improving. But so much is abstract and hard to put into a check list of any sort. I think that finishing the Camino is not the end of something for me, but rather the beginning.

Cheers,
Michael

Soundscape – Walking Onwards
Soundscape – Walking with Music in the Streets of Santiago

I thought people might be interested in this story.

Kieth and Kim both walk at a fast pace, they can´t seem to help it. This placed them in towns before most other walkers. When they arrived at Belorado, they were surprised to find an old couple already waiting in line for the refugio to open. Most refugios do not open until 1 pm.

Although the couple did have their packs with them, they looked like they hadn´t walked. You get several types of people on the Camino.

• Walking perigrinos: People that walk the Camino carrying all of their gear
• Cycling perigrinos: People that cycle the Camino carrying their gear (this by the way is often thought of the easy way by some, don´t believe it, I´ve seen how hard these pilgrims work to get through the hills and mud
• Light walkers: People that walk light, sending their heavy packs forward while carrying only a small day-pack and water. Nothing wrong with this. For many there are medical reasons and for others they just want to enjoying the walking part more. But never doubt that these people do walk.
• Tourigrinos: People that cheat the system by using buses or taxis to move from town to town snagging the cheap spots in refugios that cost 3-8 € instead of paying for a 30 € hostel. They have packs and pretend that they have walked, but you can usually spot them easily. There has been talk amongst some of the refugios of starting a black list of these people. No one likes these people, especially when you see very tired people who may have walked up to 40 km being turned away from a refugio that is full and having to walk another 3-5km (if not more) to find a bed while a tourigrino lounges in the refugio.
  Note: When I was on rest days to heal my ankle I staying in pensions and hostels. In my mind, as in many others, no walk, no refugio.

The couple looked like light walkers, but may have been tourigrinos, it was hard to tell. So, Kieth and Kim just put their packs in line behind the couples and sat down to wait.

A few minutes later the hospitalero popped out of the refugio for one thing or another and saw the old couple. He greeted them warmly and embraced them both. He then proceeded to move them into the refugio before the opening and he ushered Kieth and Kim in as well. He processed them and let them grab bed and settle in.

As it turns out this the sixteenth time that the couple had done the Camino. Sixteenth! But they were getting on now and were driving the route to relive some memories. There were hardcore walkers, and we all think that they should always have a refugio bed waiting for them. Amazing people.

I attended noon mass today. It was an exhausting event. I´m not sure why exactly, but fellow pilgrims have reported the same feeling.

We went our own ways for the afternoon and I walked the streets of Santiago, looking at shops and buildings, and thought a lot. I did a quick run on a city bus to the bus station to pick up tickets for my trip to Finisterre. I went back to the hotel to relax, send some e-mail, and look at the news of the world. Everything seemed to run so fast around me, and soon it was time to met for dinner.

I met Morag, Peter, Danny, Keith, and Keith’s wife Alice at the parador for a drink. We then moved back to the cathedral where Morag, who is also a United Minster, had at our request put together a small devotion. She touched on how pilgrims never really stop being pilgrims and that the reason for our pilgrimages are not easily understood. She read a poem that is painted on the a concrete wall along the Camino. Here it is:

Dust, mud, sun and rain

Is the Camino de Santiago.

Thousands of pilgrims

And more than a thousand years.

Pilgrim, who calls you?

What hidden force attracts you?

Not the field of the stars;

Nor the grand cathedrals.

It is not the courage of Navarra,

Nor the wine of the Riochas

Nor the seafood of Galicia

Nor the plains of Castile.

Pilgrim, who calls you?

What hidden force attracts you?

It is not the people of the Camino

Nor the rural customs.

It is not the history and culture

It is not the cock of La Calzada

Nor the palace of Gaudi

Nor the Ponferrada Castle.

I see them all as I pass

And it is a delight to see everything;

But the voice that calls to me

I feel much more deeply.

The force which pushes me,

The force which attracts me

I cannot explain it.

Only He who is above knows it.

She then read some of John Bunyan´s Pilgrims Progress. We then just sat for a while. Finally, in true pilgrim spirit, we noticed we were hungry and we set off for dinner.

We had a fine meal and two nice bottles of Gallician wine. Finally, our bill paid, we moved to see the cathedral as it is beautifully lit at night. We were lucky to have a group of minstrels entertaining people sheltered from the rain. Slowly, we drifted apart and said our farewells.

I’m not sure if I will every met these people again and I will miss them. We have helped each other, accepted help from each other, laughed and sang together, and  provided emotional support when needed. We had our time together on this strange road that we have walked and we will always have the stories that will come from them.

As I look over my right shoulder through the window of my hotel, I can see the illuminated spires of the cathedral against the dark night sky and I can softly hear the 11:00 bells. It is time to sleep.

I will miss the quiet walking with companions, and on my own. I will miss the laughs, the conversations, and the quiet moments walking with companions, and on my own. I will even miss the adversity, the pain, and the doubts as I think all of these make up the experience that is the Camino de Santiago. This is an experience that I do not think I could forget, even if I wanted to. It will no doubt leave its mark on my in way plain and hidden. But change me it has. I will dearly miss the Camino and the friends I have made along the way.

Tomorrow I will bus to Finisterre to see the ocean. I have a stone to drop into the waves for a good friend; and after all, I always wanted to reach the end of the earth I will then return to Santiago one last time to catch my train to Madrid where I will at last see my family. I can´t wait to see them again.

Good night from Santiago de Compostela.
Michael

Soundscape – Snippet of Mass in Santiago (large file)
Soundscape – Santiago Minstrals

I have just arrived back in Santiago from Finisterre.

I took the early bus to Finisterre. The bus wove up and down along the route up the coast to Cee. It then moved across the little mini-peninsula to Finisterre. The weather was grey and I found my mood matched. I was still very happy that I will be seeing my family tomorrow, but I knew that I was on the very last leg of my journey and that it would soon be over.

I arrived at port of Finisterre at noon. I shouldered my pack, hefted my stick, and began the final two kilometres to Cabo Fisterra. There is a lighthouse sitting atop the hill and as you look west, it does indeed seem like the end of the world. Apparently, the Celts called it the Sea of Tenesbrosum and believed it to be home to monsters and the gateway to paradise. The Romans are thought to have regarded it as the end of the world and the spot where the sun was engulfed by the ocean each night. All I know is that it was a beautiful and powerful place for me. It was the end of this part of my journey. My Camino has now ended and I can travel west no further.

I noticed that the embroiderer was sitting on the rocks, quiet and contemplative. I left her to her thoughts and I sat on my own and listened to the waves. I threw in a rock that I had picked up on the Camino for my friend Kelly, and then sat some more while I listened to the Tallis Scholars performing Vox Patris Caelestis on my headphones. It was a good.

I do not really know how to detail my feelings at this point. They felt in many ways like the water that was moving about beneath me and it was difficult to follow any cohesive train of thought, so I just let myself be. I watched the cloud-shadows on the water, the sea birds flying above, and the white, green, turquoise and blue of the waters. I shall never be the same person I was before the Camino. I am not a wholly changed person, but I know that there are changes. Some so small, and some so internal that the world may never really see them; but they are there.

I think Morag was right; one never stops being a pilgrim. Each endeavour we undertake adds to the whole of who we are; whether a pilgrimage across Spain or regular visits with friends to chat and drink coffee. Some endevours are more intense and therefore change us faster than a friendship that lasts years; but both change us. The Camino is a welcome change for me, but I am not done.

As the rain and mist moved in, I started my walk back to the port-town of Finisterre. Although it started bittersweet, it was lovely walk in the mist and I felt sudden, euphoric lifting of spirits as I realized that I was now on another pilgrimage of sorts, to reconnect with my family.

I found a café across from the bus stop and had a café con leche. I think I saw Alex across the street, but by the time I paid and crossed the street he was gone.

On the bus back to Santiago, I finally had the pleasure of meeting Charlotte, the embroiderer. She is the woman from Belgium who has been walking, from her front door, all alone, and embroidering the towns on her shirt. She has also finished and now plans to go home, rest, and then start her theology degree in Germany. She is tired and thoughtful, but very happy. We chatted a while on the bus, then left each other to our thoughts. I missed the chance to say good-bye and to offer my well wishes to her.

So, now I wait for my train and reflect. I have a nine-hour overnight train ride to look forward to and I couldn’t rationalize a sleeper car for myself. but this time tomorrow I will be with my family in Madrid. Life is good indeed.

Soundscape – Sitting at Finisterre
Soundscape – Sitting at Finisterre