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