Ramblings to Santiago

I had a fine walk along the coast from Cee to Finisterre, and along the way I paddled in a secluded bay, known only to me and 2.5 million previous peregrinos. And I collected some scallop shells from the soothingly cool waters. Then I rounded off my journey in the only way possible, by having Coquille St Jaques in one of the nicest restaurants at the end of the world.

The bus trip back to Finisterre follows the coast south for 2 of the 2.5 hours, and it was a very pleasant trip indeed, allowing time for reflection and simply for watching the scenery go by without having to worry where one's next step might land.

This has been a great experience. Peregrinos will tell you that we have two stories, one that we tell everyone else, and the other that only other peregrinos will appreciate: I've shared with you most of the former and perhaps given you a flavour of the latter. I hope you've enjoyed it enough to consider doing your own Camino, one day.

Thanks for reading.

And a seagull wished me good luck, in the traditional manner.

Today I took the bus to Finisterre, to be sure of keeping my appointment for breakfast. It was great to meet up with so many Camino friends, who had arived there over the previous day or two. Most were returning home today, some are going on to Muxa (the final, final point on the Camino). After breakfast with Domingo and Karin (a Camino romance) I was given a brief conducted tour of this seaside town, before they took the bus back to Santiago and the airport.

I then made the 3k walk to the lighthouse at the true "Land´s End". After seeing marker stones over the last few weeks counting down from, in effect, 850 kilometres, it was a pretty major thing to get to marker 0.0.0 and I had my photo taken to prove that I did it. And I took pictures of the various places on the headland where people have made small pyres of their possesions, to signify ... something. There´s also a small and touching memorial in the form of a broken pilgrim boot.

I got the bus back to Cee ("is this the bus to Cee?" I asked the driver. "Si, Cee" he replied, in a small Spanish joke. Tomorrow, come hell or high water I will complete my camino by walking to Finisterre.

I couldn´t help but notice, as I returned from the headland, that on this return journey one sees the pristine reverse side of the marker stone, with no distance plate on it. So perhaps this isn´t the end of the earth after all, it is the begining. As always, it depends how you look at things.

Talk about wet, wet, wet (whatever happened to them, anyway?)

Today I made it to the coast, and frankly, I´d probably have been drier if I´d have swam. The guide book talks about this being one of the most beautiful part of the camino; frankly, it was lost on me and anyone else walking to see Cee today, it an Atlantic mix of thick mist and wind-driven rain. There wasn´t bit of me that wasn´t soaked, but that wasn´t too bad, because I wasn´t cold, but my spirits rather dropped when I felt first one boot and then the other fill, rather quickly, with water. I´m confident that it was water, because although mature, I´m still continent. It was a deeply uncomfortable feeling, the water level rising and falling with each step.

Last night had been spent in an albergue next to a cowshed, and the number of flies in the building, living and dead, testified to the fact. But notwithstanding that, it was a pleasant place and the company was good. That morning had been a rather tense start: the previous albergue had 24 beds, plus some tents with mattresses in the garden. Finally there were, officially, 48 people staying there, and at least a dozen others had been sent away ... the next village was 12k away which is a hell of a slog if you´ve already done 30k! In the event, the albergue played host to ANOTHER 10 people who arive after the hostalier (gatekeeper) had gone home, sleeping rough (hard) on the patio. The albergue we were all aimed at for the next day (yesterday - sorry if this is geting convoluted) had only 22 beds, so if youn add the 50 of us to those who were turned away, you´ll see that, potentially, there was gping to be a bit of a scrap for beds next to the cowshed. I didn´t want to sleep rough an as result i was walkking by 0500hrs, me and a couple of austrians were first out of the building, and I showed them the best way for the first 500m (which I´d surveyed the previous evening) and then was happy to follow them in the dark, lit only by our head-torches. We did the first 8k in about 110 minutes, which, frankly, is a hell of a pace, and one of the complained to the leader about it - I was impressed that I´managed to keep up!

Once dawn had done its thing I was happy to slow a bit and, cutting to the chase, arive 32k later, my longest walk to date, at the cowshed, at about 1.30, then it was wait until 15.30 until it opened. In the event the Austrians had marched on and i didn´t see too many people turned away.

Last nights dinner in the local restaurant was one of the best, Galician Soup followed by Galician stew. The discerning palate (and eye) could tel that the soup was simply the stew without the meat; i as happy having both, becasue there was cabage in there (how I crave vegetables!!!!!)

I chatted a bit with a French social worker who is here with her teenage charge, a kind of outward bound cure for young people who might need some help. And I walked a bit with them both today, and witnesed "the kindnes of strangers" that can characterise one element of the camino. We arrived at Cee, on the coast, at the same time, and dived into the first cafe for something to eat. The social charity that these two are involved in doesn´t run to a big budget, so this teen has to make do with some very basic clothing. A guy in the bar, an ordinary working man, sporting a fine mullet haircut, simply gave her his waterproof jacket and trousers when we were about to leave. He might have been a bit pissed, but it was still deeply moving. These two have a combined catering budget each day of 15Euros. I bought them lunch and will buy them dinner, seems only right, somehow.

Finisterre tomorrow! I have a breakfast date with a couple I met three weeks ago or more. If the weather continues to be rough I´ll take the bus, and walk there the day after instead.

I arrived even earlier than I thought, yesterday (Sunday 6th, I think). Fought my way through the cheatin´ tourists to get here. We "true" peregrinos are so disdainful of those who only walk the last 100k, very often having their luggage couriered between stops.

I saw lots of people that I knew yesterday, and heard about more. I´m not staying in the refugio, staying in a hostal instead, so I miss the camraderie ... but on the other hand I got a good nights sleep. I bumped into Marianne again (not seen her for 10 days or so) and we had dinner and caught up. The French Canadian couple Denis & Fran and Margaret the inspirational New Zealander are taking the bus to Finisterre today. I´m not completely sure of my plans, but I do have an invitation to breakfast with another couple in Finisterre on the 11th, and I should be able to make that date if I leave here tomorrow and walk 10k before breakfast on the 11th ... its a 75k walk and will be far less crowded than just about any other part of the Camino. I´m then at a lose end until my return flight, so I might wel take the bus back to Santiago on the 11th and then catch another one down to Portugal, for the simple reason that the weather is likely to be better, and that English is the official second language. However, none of this is setled at the moment, I´m going to do some checking about transport and accomodation (and weather forecasts) shortly.

I have to admit to going against my original intent - this morning I went and got my Compostela, the official document from the cathedral authorities that says I´ve completed the pilgrimage.

I saw the group of young Valencians to whom i´d tought "Always look on the bright side of life" - it was good to speak with them. One of them had managed to get here yesterday in time for the midday Mass, and had taken a video of the swinging censer (is that the right name and spelling?) and showed it to me. You know, the big smokin´ ball that takes away sins and smells. Its massive ... makes you think, somehow, of Indiana Jones, great big metal ball on the end of a rope, whooshing down the aisle and over the heads of the congregation. And it was quite nice afterwards to bump into a Frenchman, in front of the cathdral, who I´d first met on the train from Bayonne to St Jean Pied de Port on the eve of the camino. We wished each other well, but it was quite strange not to wish each other, as we and all the other peregrinos have for the last 4-5 weeks "Buon Camino". Because we´ve done it. We´ve done our Camino ... and it was, indeed, "buon".

I was pleased when my blogname initially proved to be false, my feet held up very well. But latterly the name has become true, and my feet and legs have been complaining a bit. The last few days have been sore and slow, but I have paced myself ... I am still ahead of schedule, and have forced myself to do relatively few k´s per day, and it seems to be paying off.

Day before yesterday I did just 17k to Eirexa, yesterday I did 23k to Melide, and today a mere 14k to Arzua.

Today I am using a washing machine for the first time! No, not ever, just on the camino. Previously I´ve washed my clothes by hand, but today, seeing as how its raining and most of my "change into when finished walking" clothes haven´t been washed in a while, I´m washing them and my walking clothes (wet after a day of prolonged drizzle) and will risk putting them in the dryer afterwards. But I´d hate for my new Haglofs walking shirt to get damaged by too much heat.

Tomorrow´s walk should take me the 15.5k to Santa Irene, then its 19k to Monte del Gozo (¿wasn´t he one of the Muppets?) which boasts a massive 2800 places for pilgrims, 800 of them being free. Its the last stop before Santiago de Compostela. I aim to spend two nights, perhaps three in Santiago before pushing on to Finisterre.

Its interesting seeing some of the "pilgrims" on the last 100k. Many of them are so cynical! In order to get your compostela, your certificate from the cathedral authorities that you have done the pilgrimage and thus can have your time in pergatory cut by half (¿who the f**k invented this sh*t?), you have to show that you have walked, as a minimum, the last 100k to Santiago. Thus you get your pilgrims passport stamped along the way. Most of us long distance walkers get ours stamped wherever we spend the night, but the 100k pilgrims have to show a stamp from two places every day, in order to crack down on people who simply drive from one albergue to another. But these canny cheats aren´t put off, they simply get cars or taxis to pick them up and ferry them to the next stop, having walked (say) 5k after breakfast, to a cafe or church which has a stello (stamp) they get their passport stamped, and then you see the taxi come and pick them up top take them on to the next albergue. You can usually tell who they are, they carry very small packs, or maybe nothing much other than a bottle of water.

The thing that gets me about these people, is that presumably they are Catholics who feel a need to get their compostela, in which case one might also presume that they believe that stuff about "god" being aware of their sins, and thus seeing them as they cheat. My presumption is that they don´t believe in god and sins as much as they like to pretend they do ... two-faced or what?

Today, sitting in a cafe alongside some young Spaniards, who were looking damp and down, I taught them to sing "Always look on the bright side of life" and another couple of people joined in as well. It was fun, especially considering the origin of the song (The Life of Brian).

Its tough, but I´m still enjoying it. The camino is life in microcosm.

Having walked some sections of the camino, the meseta, where the path is arrow-straight for 5 or 10k, Galicia is a bit of a pain. The route winds through more small farmyards, and around the perimeters of more fields and pastures that you can shake a cow-pat at. Today I passed the 100k-to-Santiago marker, meaning I´ve travelled 700 kilometres, and have 150 to go to Finisterre.

I managed 22k today, and my leg is managing to hold up, but I´m making sure to take regular breaks and travelling slowly. Once I´d checked into the albergue here in Portomarin I bumped into Jason and Laura, the Australian couple that I last saw over a week ago, on the meseta Laura is the blonde who we sold to the waiter for an extra bottle of wine at dinner. Apparently not having learned her lesson we´ve arrnged to have dinner again tonight.

Off for a siesta again now.