Santiago and Finisterre (or Fisterra)

So, my pilgrimage was over. I wanted to spend the day in Santiago then go to Finisterre the following day before leaving for Madrid and England and the long-awaited visit to my son and his family for ten days, before finally returning to my home in Brazil after a seven week absence.

The albergue I was staying in allowed pilgrims to remain for a second night, so I sorted my stuff out then left my rucksack on a bunk in order to reserve it. Not the one I´d slept in the previous night as the bunk next to mine had been a bit too close for comfort. After a coffee I walked into town, still limping but not quite as much since I was no longer carrying my rucksack. I went to the Camino Travel Centre run by Ivar, the same chap who runs the pilgrim forum I belong to, and sorted out my travel arrangements. Jan turned up there and also finalised his plans and by coincidence we actually ended up travelling to England together.

Then it was time for the pilgrim mass at the the cathedral where we met up with the rest of our little group. The service is held for the pilgrims every day at twelve, and I found it very moving. The number of pilgrims who´d arrived that day and their country of origin was mentioned and a nun sang beautifully. The cathedral was packed with pilgrims and other visitors and we´d been lucky to get seats. Unfortunately the "botafumeiro" did not swing that day. It is a massive incense burner hanging from the roof, swung like a pendulum clear across the aisles by six men. It is said to be an impressive sight.

After the mass I joined a queue to go up behind the altar and hug the figure of St James and murmur my thanks, and I also sneaked a quick touch of the Tree of Jesse, a pilgrim tradition down the centuries, although now there is a barrier and a security guard nearby. I took my chance when he was distracted by an elderly lady, a pilgrim I believe, who crawled through the barrier on her knees to touch her forehead against the base of the statue. Then off I went to the pilgrim office to get my Compostela - a certificate with my name in Latin stating I had completed the Camino. I had to produce my pilgrim passport as proof of my journey and I was proud to see how many stamps I had accumulated over the previous weeks.

After all this I had something to eat then a look around the old quarter, fascinating with its narrow streets and old buildings. I was very glad to bump into Kari and Sandi while I was doing this, as we managed a final goodbye. The city was full of pilgrims and I saw quite a few familiar faces, including Mike and his wife and managed to speak to some of them. I was feeling very tired by this time and my leg was hurting so I walked slowly back to the albergue in a very hot sun and spent the rest of the day writing my notes, doing washing and finally relaxing. I´d turned down an invitation to join the group again for dinner as I couldn´t face the long traipse in and back again. They´d all left the albergue to stay in places nearer the cathedral and were planning a meal out in the old quarter. We were meeting the next day to go to Finisterre by bus, anyway.

I felt that my pilgrimage ended in Santiago, but some pilgrims carry on to Finisterre (also known as Fisterra) on the coast, either walking the 89km or by bus. It is the furthest point west you can get, the "end of the world" in medieval times. I had decided to join the others as it would make a nice trip to round things off and also I could symbolically bathe my feet in the ocean. We met up at the bus station the next morning and after a couple of hours drive arrived in Finisterre, a small fishing village. Here the rest set off to the lighthouse and cliffs at the furthest point but since several kilometres of walking were involved I decided not to go. My leg was still quite swollen and painful and I was once again carrying my rucksack as I was going straight on to Madrid after. Also I was more interested in going to the beach which was nearby. It was a sunny day but there was a strong cold wind blowing so I had a brief look round the village then made my way down to the sandy beach. I took my sandals off and walked into the cold water and stood there while tears filled my eyes at the thought that it was all over. It was too chilly to stand there for long though, so I waded out and was shortly joined by the others. After a drink we were glad to get out of the wind and onto the bus back to Santiago. And that´s the end of it really...

Last Thoughts

Like many others I think I have come back from my Camino a different person. Living day-to-day with all your possessions reduced to an absolute minimum changes the way you look at things. You discover how little you need, how irrelevant some of your major preocupations are, how important people are. I dreamt vividly about my Camino every night for well over a month after I got home and still do so frequently. It is almost like an addiction and there are times when I really long to be there again.

This blog, which has helped me to re-live an amazing experience, was never meant to be an exciting or humorous tale of my adventures and misadventures. I am not a writer. I read several enjoyable and entertaining blogs during the months leading up to my journey, but I felt that sometimes I would have liked some more information. This was why I decided to write a factual account of my preparation and pilgrimage. I wanted to start from the very beginning and include all the training and preparation, telling it from the point of view of a first-time pilgrim, who didn´t know what to expect. I wanted to include all the daily details and facts of the journey so as to give a true picture of what it was like to walk 790km in 35 days through all temperatures and weathers with all your worldly goods on your back. I wanted to share my thoughts and feelings in such an unusual situation and try to give an accurate "warts and all" picture of what it was like for me, not just dwell on the highlights. My hope was that this blog would be of interest and use to some future pilgrims who may be reading it. I would like to reassure them that while there were good days and bad days, it was never so bad that I considered giving up. So if that is what you want to do then go for it - and Buen Camino to you. Although be warned, it can become addictive...the Camino Portugues is beginning to beckon to me next...