This blog has been sitting in draft form on my desktop for 3 months and it’s about time it was posted. Andrew has been very patient and only nagged me about it a few times every week since we arrived back in New Zealand. So here it is, our long overdue blog to complete our 17-month European adventure, and as it is the last blog in this series, we have decided to write it together.
I’ll hand it to Andrew to set the scene.
Andrew: A few years back Louise’s mother and aunt spent near on 6 weeks walking the 780-kilometre Camino de Santiago pilgrims’ trail from St. Jean Pied-du-Port in France, across the Pyrenees and westward across northern Spain to Santiago de Compostela. Last year when we were driving through that part of Spain, we followed the trail for a hundred kilometres or so and saw many walkers taking on the challenge. This sparked Louise’s interest. Walking the full 780 kms would be too time-consuming and our weary legs after 16 months walking around Europe also played a part in our decision to only take on a small portion of the trail. To get your Compostela Certificate you need to walk the final 100 kms of the pilgrimage and finish at the cathedral in the centre of Santiago de Compostela, so we looked at the possibility of coming back to Spain at the end of our trip to do that. At the time we wrote about it in one of our blogs and my brother Tim mentioned that it was on their bucket list. Conveniently Tim was heading to a medical conference in Barcelona near the end of our trip, so 10 months later and with a bit of organisation we caught up with Tim and Julie and spent a week walking the final 117 kms of the Camino de Santiago from Sarria to Santiago de Compostela.
Initially, this was a Catholic pilgrimage walk and has been since the 9th century. According to medieval legend the remains of the apostle Saint James the Great were brought here in 813 and now lie inside the Cathedral of Santiago de Compostela which is the focal point of the old city. Today it’s walked by a variety of people for many reasons: travel, sport, a challenge, and as a spiritual retreat from modern life. Back in 1985, just 690 pilgrims undertook the trek, but the popularity has now risen so much that last year 300,000 people walked the now famous El Camino de Santiago. Most travel on foot, some on a bike and a few do it on horseback or donkey. There are many paths leading to Santiago from all directions, but the French Way is the most popular. Whichever way you decide to do it – “all roads lead to Santiago” and the distinctive Camino signposts with the yellow scallop shells pop up in towns all over Spain.
Let the adventure begin.
After an hour and a half flight from Malaga to the top of Spain, we arrived at Santiago de Compostela, picked up our rental car and headed into the city to find our hotel. Our first task was to find the Pilgrims’ Office and get our Camino Passports. To get the Compostela Certificate at the end of the walk you need to have your passport stamped each day at one of the many stamp stations along the trail and twice a day in the final 100kms. This is to prove you’ve actually covered the distance. They are also a great souvenir and cost only 1.50 Euro each.
Tim and Julie were arriving later that night, so after having a look around the town we headed back to the airport to collect them. After they checked into their hotel a little after 9pm we all walked a few hundred meters back into the old town to have a quick bite to eat and a drink. As usual in Spanish towns, it was a very busy place even at 10 at night. After tapas and a catch-up, we headed back to our respective hotels and agreed to meet the next morning at 10am to drive to Sarria for the start of the Camino.
As we all had quite a bit of luggage, we had decided that Louise, Tim and Julie would set off each day on the walk and I would drive to the next town with the luggage, park the car and walk back to meet them. You can get your luggage delivered but they charge around 7 Euros per bag, per day, which would have meant spending around 60 Euros a day ($100) and over seven days that works out to be quite expensive, so renting a car seemed like the better option. Also, I didn’t quite trust my bung knee to hold up for 117km and this way if it got too bad, I could opt out.
Day 1: Monday, September 10th
Andrew continues: We headed off to Sarria via A Coruña. My brother Tim is an orthopaedic surgeon in Palmerston North and the anaesthetist he works with is Spanish and hails from A Coruña in Galicia, so Tim wanted to see his hometown since we were so close. It was a bit over an hour’s drive north from Santiago de Compostela and Tim was expecting a small seaside village. It was not a village, more of a built-up and bustling metropolis with a population of around 250,000. We found a car park and walked through the narrow lanes of the old town to Plaza de Maria Pita whose namesake warned the town of an invasion by Sir Francis Drake back in the 16th century and is now immortalised in a statue in the centre of the square. The old town was pretty deserted, but it was only just after 11am and in Spain mornings are never a rushed affair. We walked past closed markets and shops to the beach. It was a perfectly formed horse-shoe bay and like all Spanish beaches had been immaculately groomed overnight and there was not a piece of litter in sight. It wasn’t warm, but a few brave souls were swimming and sunning themselves in bikinis. Schools of different sized fish swam in the shallows near rocks. After a walk along the beach we made our way back into the old town, found a café for lunch and then were on our way to Sarria.
Our drive took a little over two hours with a few stops along the way. We arrived in Sarria around 5 to find our accommodation. Louise had pre-booked all of the hotels/apartments some time ago, so we had a specific destination each day. We followed Google Maps and pulled into a bit of a rough looking area. Tim and Julie were looking at each other, wondering what sort of place Louise had booked us into. But, after a quick phone call and a slight backtrack we were ushered into our apartment – a 2-bedroom self-contained place with all the comforts of home.
Our first mission was to get our Camino Passports stamped with our official starting point and then find something to eat, so we all headed up to the small stone church to get a stamp. They were busy with evening mass, and after waiting with a growing number of others we decided to try our luck somewhere else. Official stamps can only be got from churches, tourist information centres, post offices and town halls or council offices and as it was after hours, we didn’t expect anything to be open. However, one of the other would-be walkers told us of an Albergue (hostel) attached to a monastery further up the hill that gave official stamps, so we headed off to find it. With our starting point officially registered it was time to find a restaurant and then head home for a good night’s rest before starting El Camino.
Day 2: Tuesday, September 11th
Sarria to Portomarin – 22kms
Louise: It was only just light when we started on our way despite being 8am, autumn comes quickly in Europe. We were excited to get going and started up the hill to find the path. Andrew came with us as far as the church, bade us farewell and we were off on El Camino. Striding up the narrow-cobbled streets through the old part of Sarria we saw our first yellow arrow spray painted on a stone wall, turned a sharp left and we in the countryside. Already plenty of other walkers were on the trail so there was no chance of us losing our way. A sign asked walkers to be aware of dogs following them and becoming lost. Having flocks of happy people walking past your house must be irresistible for dogs and it’s understandable why many get caught up in the excitement only to find themselves horribly lost a few hours later. Our first stamp of the day was not far along the trail where a man had a table set up and was giving out pretty butterfly stamps with Sarria on it, in return for a donation. We quickly realised you need to have plenty of coins on hand for the many donations along the way. From there it was uphill through birch forest and then across ploughed fields and past small farms. The track is well worn and easy to follow. Julie set a cracking pace and we covered the first 5km quickly. It was time for a coffee break. There are cafes at regular intervals along the way. Most are pop-up types attached to houses and only operate through the summer walking season. We got another stamp at this café and I chatted to an American lady who was walking with her adult son. There is a strong sense of camaraderie on the Camino, everyone is a friend on the trail.
We continued on past rustic farm buildings and fields fenced in stone walls, past a duck with a jumble of fluffy ducklings in tow, a herd of beautiful chestnut long-horned cows and lots of interested horses who leaned over gates in the hope of a pat. The pungent smell of silage and manure almost overpowered poor Julie. A quaint stone church appeared. We were keen to get our first “official” stamp of the day, but it was closed on Tuesdays. At about 11.20 we passed the 100km mark, 17km of our walk complete 100 to go. A few minutes later and we came across a dilapidated stone farm building with a food stall set up in the courtyard. The table was laden with all sorts of local delicacies and a sign welcomed pilgrims to eat what they wanted for a donation. A wizened old farming couple were manning the stand, their twinkling eyes and bright smiles reflecting the spirit of the Camino. The little old lady who barely came up to Tim’s waist stamped our passports, holding each one as though it was a treasure of great value and planting the stamp with great purpose, grinning up at us after each was complete. Not long after we came to another converted barn filled with El Camino merchandise. Tim and Julie bought scallop shells, the symbol of the Camino. I had already got mine in Santiago. Now we all looked the part with our shells swinging from our packs.
We came to the brow of a hill and could see a village in the distance. It was Portomarin and it was all downhill. Then out of the heat haze appeared a familiar figure – Andrew. He’d had the tough climb up to meet us. He guided us back to the village and after showers we found a place for a late lunch. Tim’s attempt at Spanish resulted in a bottle of wine being ordered instead of a glass. We didn’t have the heart to send it back and it went straight to our heads. Later that afternoon we finally got our “official” stamp at the church. Andrew and I joined other pilgrims bathing our feet in a salt water pool in a park. Conversations starting with the questions: “Where did you start? “How far have you walked?”. We slept well that night.
Andrew: We walked together up the steep hill to the church where I said farewell to the trio of trampers and headed back to the car for the 30-minute drive to Portomarin. This was a new adventure for me as I was not only the driver but the navigator too – would I manage? Yup. It seemed so. The drive was uneventful, through a small village and countryside which was quite green compared to southern Spain. Portomarin is a small town perched on a hill with a population of around 2,500. In the 1960s the Mino River was dammed to create a reservoir putting the old village under water. Most of the historic buildings of the town were moved brick by brick and reconstructed in the new town higher on the hill, including its castle-like central church. At this time of year, the dam level was low and the remains of ancient buildings, the old waterfront and the old bridge were visible. I found my way to our apartment near the top of the hill overlooking the town then checked out the local restaurants before heading back to meet the others. I walked down the Roman Staircase and was greeted by many pilgrims walking towards me. Then it was over the Roman Bridge and a climb up into the hills. It didn’t take me long to realise walking the other way wasn’t that easy. The Camino signs are positioned for the walkers going in the right direction, not the wrong way like me, and when you come to a fork in the path you have to work out which way they are coming from. After about an hour’s walking and having passed many a walker I found the three of them strolling along in the warm early afternoon sunshine (already around 31 degrees) and we all walked back to town together. Day 1 complete.
Day 3: Wednesday, September 12th
Portomarin to Palas de Rei: 25km
Andrew: Everyone decided we needed to be on the road by 8 again to beat the mid-afternoon sun but looking down on the town from our apartment window it was hard to see anything. The Spanish fog had rolled in and coupled with the dark autumn morning meant visibility was bad. Despite this many had started the journey and we could see them through the haze trailing across the bridge and up the hill. I sent my three on their way. It was another 30km drive for me which took a little over thirty minutes. Palas de Rei is another small town with a population of around 4,000 and has a lot of history with many archaeological remnants from an ancient settlement. Our hotel was on the main street. I was too early to check in, so I parked the car in a shady spot and started my walk back to meet the others. This was a bigger mission than the previous day. No pilgrims had started to arrive in town, so I couldn’t see where they were coming from and the town was quiet at 9 in the morning. A couple of Spanish people I asked made extravagant gestures trying to explain which direction I should go. I followed their advice, hoping I’d understood, climbed some stairs and walked through a church yard to an intersection with three different off shoots. Where to now?
Just as I was about to head off in what would have been the wrong direction, a lady with walking poles came up behind me and headed up a sharp hill. She looked like she knew what she was doing, and it seemed like a good option, so I followed her up. After about 30 minutes of following her I was conscious she had turned around many times to see who this strange man was behind her. She stopped to fill up her water bottle at a small village and I took the opportunity to say hallo. She was relieved that I did, as she said she had been reading how a Japanese girl had been stalked and killed in a similar spot a year ago. Cripes! I assured her I was a good upstanding individual. Like me, she was also walking in to meet friends. For the next hour we walked together and shared stories. Her name was Siobhan and she was Irish. She had done quite a bit of the walk last year and had come back with friends to do the rest this year, but had broken a bone in her foot some months prior so was doing a similar thing as me, driving the luggage and walking back in. When we finally came across her two friends, they promptly told me Louise, Tim and Julie were just a few minutes behind. How did she know who they were? She had observed the four of us eating together the day before and noticed I was missing from the group when they stopped for coffee a few hours earlier. Very observant I thought, but as we progressed over the next few days, I too started to notice who was around and who you had seen before. Faces became very familiar. So, reunited with everyone we all tramped the hour and half back to Palas de Rei.
Louise: Today’s walk started down a steep hill through Portomarin, across a bridge and up a long but gentle climb to the main road. The path then followed the main road for a while before veering off into the countryside and climbing steadily over forest covered hills. The early morning crowds started to thin out as people dropped back and stopped for coffees and breakfast. Julie once again set a formidable pace and I was starting to think I wouldn’t be able to keep up, but nor did I really want too. With so many people on the track it was hard to push past, and I didn’t want to rush, but rather take time to say “Buen Camino” to fellow pilgrims, listen to the many languages being spoken around us, or just get lost in my thoughts and the steady rhythm of my footfall. The pace soon slowed, and we were back in sync.
There weren’t as many rest places in the first couple of hours and we had only got the one stamp from a café and were keen to get an official one. We came across a tiny stone church with a long line of people outside. We decided it was worth waiting for a stamp. Inside it was very dark but the priest giving stamps didn’t seem fazed by the lack of light. It didn’t take long for us to realise he was blind. I guided his hand to my passport and he stamped and dated the page and I pressed a euro coin into his palm and he wished me “Buen Camino”. Onward, and it was soon time for a coffee stop just at the point our climb stopped and the track levelled out before dropping towards Palas de Rei. It was not long after, past a painted rock advertising “free hugs” outside an albergue and through another tiny rural village, that Julie suggested it must nearly be time for Andrew to show his face and just at that moment around the corner he walked. It happened like that the day before too and continued to happen in coming days. Julie could conjure up Andrew just like that.
It was great to have Andrew join us with an hour and a half still to go and time flew past as we all chatted away. We were hot and hungry when we arrived in Palas de Rei and it was siesta time and most shops were closed. Thankfully a superette was open for another half hour and we bought bread, cheese and tomato and had a picnic in the town square. There was a massage therapist next to our hotel and I couldn’t resist – my feet and legs were very appreciative. That evening we ate at a great restaurant specialising in Galician cuisine with a very charming waiter. For entrée we had fried pimentos and Galician octopus, a delicacy of the region. The octopus arrived intact – big, fat and purple. Andrew and Julie were horrified and couldn’t bring themselves to try it and I must admit I felt a bit sorry for the poor thing, but it tasted divine. Paella followed, two big pans full – vegetarian for Julie and Andrew and Seafood for Tim and me.
Day 4: Thursday, September 13th
Palas de Rei to Melide: 14.5km.
Andrew: Today’s drive only took 20 minutes. The hotel in Melide was just off the main street and looked fairly new. The owners told me the rooms weren’t ready, so I parked the car, took directions from the owner and headed off on my backwards pilgrimage. Melide is a bit bigger that the other towns with a population of around 10,000. After about 2 minutes I was passing walkers coming towards me as many use this day to do a longer walk, not stopping in Melide. It was quite a warm morning and once again after about thirty minutes I was going uphill. It seems every town is downhill for the Camino walkers arriving, but for me who was going the other way it seemed like my first hour and a half was up hill. It turned out to be true again on this day. It was a quaint walk, crossing a couple of historic stone bridges and through eucalyptus forest. A dog joined me for a while and I worried that he may be lost, he looked confused. It was just after the dog left me that I found the guys and we headed back to Melide.
Louise: We were woken at 5 by hordes of people walking past our hotel, already starting on their way. Many people use this day to walk the 28ks to Azura, but we had decided to break that leg in two so for us today’s walk was 10km shorter than the previous day and there was no need to rush to beat the afternoon heat. The trail took us through small villages, past corn fields, dairy farms, and through fragrant eucalyptus forests. We noticed lots of small huts on stilts outside farm houses. We were told these were for storing corn although mostly now they are ornamental. In a quaint village a woman was putting hot wax stamps in passports. They looked beautiful, so we waited in line for ours. It was a slow process as she was manning her souvenir shop at the same time and every time someone wandered into the store, she dropped the wax and ran in while sighing loudly and rolling her eyes like it was all too much of a chore. I chose a wax stamp of two footprints. It was worth the wait. I was holding my passports open waiting for the wax stamp to dry when a dog ran past looking very lost and confused. Not long after Andrew appeared, also looking a little lost but perhaps not confused. We hadn’t expected to meet him so soon and he had nearly walked right past us. Reunited, we walked together through into Melide.
The benefit of having a car with us was realised – Tim had left his phone charger at the hotel back in Palas de Rei. A short drive back and we collected it. With the rest of the afternoon to fill Julie did some googling and found a swimming spot in a nearby river. The water was dark and stagnant, not at all inviting. We opted to sit under the trees and eat ice-creams instead. Dinner that evening was at a restaurant in the old quarter. We saw many familiar faces. Some looked worse for wear: limping and nursing blisters. I was lucky, I was feeling no effects from the walking and apart from a few aches and pains the others were pulling up well too.
Day 5: Friday, September 14th
Melide to Arzua: 14kms
Andrew: This was one of our shortest days and the drive took just over 20 minutes. The apartment was at the far end of town and my usual routine followed: park car; walk back through town; find trail; walk to meet the others. As I mentioned previously, it was quite difficult to go in the opposite direction and this was no exception. I found myself completely confused at a spot where four roads met. The sign heading back to Arzua could have applied to any of the three roads, but just as I was pondering which way to go a lone hiker arrived down the hill, so off I went in the direction he’d come from. Yes, it was also straight up hill again. By now I was frequently passing the same people that I had seen on previous days, and the “Hi’s”, “Hello’s” and “Buen Camino’s” were like meeting old friends. I had all kind of comments, like; “the mad kiwi is lost again”, “why does he keep walking the opposite way”, “here comes the anti-pilgrim” and so on. It was very amusing. I had become quite a novelty.
Reunited with the other three and once back in Arzua we checked in to our very nice apartment and the three trampers headed out for a massage. I was left to do the shopping for ingredients to cook dinner in the apartment – a nice change from eating out
Louise: This was our shortest day and one of the more picturesque parts of the track. After starting leaving Melide we were soon out the countryside walking across rolling hills through quaint rural settlements and pretty woodland areas where we were shaded by leafy green birches or sweet-smelling eucalyptus. It is amazing how well kept the paths are and most parts are paved. There are a lot of dairy farms in this part of Spain and we passed cows in milking sheds and wobbly newborn calves. The beautiful surrounds and with good company and conversation the morning past quickly and we had soon met up with Andrew and were walking into Arzua. This wasn’t the prettiest Spanish town with few redeeming features, but my choice of accommodation was excellent. We had a spacious two-bedroom modern apartment with views across the countryside and the big kitchen meant we could cook rather than eat out. A much-needed massage followed by a home-cooked meal and a glass or two of Spanish red and the day was complete. Time for bed.
Day 6: Saturday September 15th
Arzua to O Pedrouzo: 18km
Andrew: Another 20km drive. Hotel found – one street back from the main street. I parked the car and headed back through a big forest area. Part of the attraction of walking the Camino de Santiago is that it gives you time to think. Time to break old routines and enough time to bring new perspectives. It makes you receptive to new ideas and new points of view and it also gives you time to listen to your own voice, unfiltered and unfettered. Yes, this is Andrew writing this. So, as I walked along thinking about the world, saying hello to the “regulars” and taking the familiar abuse about “still going the wrong way”, I all of a sudden ran into the three of them. With all this thinking and walking time had passed quickly and I hadn’t realised I had been walking the best part of three hours. I met the trio just near where an elderly British couple in a motorhome were giving stamps with charms attached, in return for donations. They said the funds were going towards a documentary they were making on the Camino Walk. The Camino is a popular topic for would-be documentary makers. Another rendezvous completed, and it was back to the hotel before finding a great lunch place and of course getting another stamp. The restaurant was so good we went back again for dinner. It wasn’t a good night though. At around 1am the emergency light came on in our room. We had a power cut and trying to sleep with the emergency light on wasn’t easy. I rigged up an old black jersey over the light and it was back to sleep.
Louise: Fog sat low in the green vales and the air was crisp despite the best efforts of the newly risen sun as it pushed its golden fingers out over the hills. It was another perfect day for walking. We had definitely chosen a great time of year to walk the Camino. The scenery was similar to the previous day. Those long lanes of eucalyptus and glades of beech, birches and oaks were now familiar. We quickly fell into our regular walking rhythm and our conversation and laughter was interspersed with comfortable silence. As we breezed along it would have been easy not to notice others on the track who were not having such an easy time of it. There were those who were obviously ill or had been recently fighting cancer, disabled people in sporty wheelchairs, a blind lady was walking with her family and her guide dog, and no doubt there were many others who were facing emotional challenges that couldn’t be seen, all on their own personal pilgrimage. On a number of occasions when we were setting out in the morning, we’d we passed an elderly lady walking by herself at snail’s pace. She carefully put one foot in front of the other and kept her balance with two walking poles. She was Canadian but barely raised her head in acknowledgment when I said “Buen Camino” as I passed her each morning. Her eyes were kept firmly on the track ahead. When we’d driven back to get Tim’s charger, we’d seen her on the trail, only half way there while we were well finished for the day. I can’t imagine the will power and I wonder the reason for her perseverance.
The Camino has many quirky things to see along the way and today was no different. We stopped for a photo at a beer garden with the walls, trees and gateway dripping in thousands of empty beer bottles. There are the characters too. A lone traveller with his loyal dog who from what we had gathered had walked this track many times and was giving stamps – one with two footprints and two paw prints and the Spanish “Compa tida La Soledad” which I figure means something like “Loneliness Shared”.
We met up with Andrew as we waited in line to get a wax stamp from an older English couple who said they were making a documentary on the Camino. I think it was just a brilliant way to make money – park your motorhome and sell wax stamps with charms attached for a euro a piece. If only 5% of those 300,000 pilgrims stopped, you’d easily fund your annual holiday and more. Good on them. Their bronze wax stamp with the golden scallop shell charm was one of the nicest we collected.
Andrew had joined us, and we continued towards O Pedrouzo. O Pedrouzo lies about a kilometre off the trail and is surrounded by forest. It was lunchtime and we found a fresh modern café serving local produce. It was a lovely surprise, and after looking at all the other restaurants serving burgers and fries, we decided to go back to the same place for dinner that evening. Before that however, we had spent some time hunting down another stamp. The church at one end of town was closed and so was the tourist office at the other end, and after walking from one end of town to another and halfway back we saw another sign indicating another tourist information and sure enough there was an office back up on the trail that was open, and we finally got our “official” stamp after clocking up an extra 3km on the Fitbit.
As Andrew said, we had a rough night being woken by a blindingly bright emergency light that we couldn’t switch off. Not to worry, there was only one more day of walking ahead of us.
Day 7: Sunday, September 16th.
O Pedrouza to Santiago: 22km
Andrew: Up and away at 8am. I had a busy day. First task was to drop the bags at the hotel in Santiago. This wasn’t an easy mission as the old town does not allow cars, except taxis, through the narrow streets. The only exception is if you are dropping bags at a hotel, which I was. Before we left Santiago a week before we worked out how to get into the town as only a few entrances were open for cars. It seemed simple when we walked it. A couple of times around the old town and I finally found that entrance again and navigated through the little old streets and past the few early morning walkers. Luckily it was Sunday. Having dropped the bags at the hotel I found my way back to the main street and headed to the airport to drop the car back to the rental car company. The Camino walk goes very near the airport, so my aim was to walk the 2 kms from the airport to the trail and meet the three of them there to walk the remaining 15kms into the city. However, the rental car return didn’t go smoothly because of a scratch to the bumper that we had no idea about but apparently put there. After a long debate and a lot of language difficulties I finally got out of there. In the meantime, Louise, Tim and Julie were waiting at a small village where the track from the airport meets the Camino. I finally joined them, and we headed off on the last leg. I will let Louise take up the final story of our 117 km Camino walk.
Louise: When we arrived at the airport a week earlier, we saw that the Camino track ran right nearby. Perfect – Andrew could return the rental car and join us there, so we would walk the majority of the last leg together and he would not have to do his usual backtracking. Knowing he had a lot to do before he could meet us, we took our time and meandered along the track through the forest, but it didn’t take long, and suddenly the airport runway was running adjacent to the path. Andrew had messaged us to say he was leaving the hotel and heading for the airport and we were confident our plan to meet him would work. We stopped for photos by a sculptured marking post and I got chatting with a couple of Kiwi women who were on a Sing the Camino tour where you walk during the day and spend the evenings singing together. They told me how uplifting it was, and they’d had the time of their lives. There is something for everyone, isn’t there.
We arrived at the small village by the airport where we were to meet Andrew. We had time to kill and we relaxed with a coffee and tomato and olive oil on toast at the café. It was then when Andrew messaged to tell us there was a problem with the rental car and he would be a while. Half an hour later he called to say he was still embroiled in a debate and subsequent paperwork and we should go ahead without him. No way! I was not going to walk the final leg of the Camino de Santiago without Andrew, and anyway what was the hurry? We waited and waited and waited. Finally, an hour later he appeared, surprisingly calm after his frustrating rental car experience. Our final part of the trek into Santiago de Compostela could begin. This part of the walk is through the villages that make up the suburbs surrounding Santiago, although there were still plenty of trees and greenery for the first part.
As it started to get more built up the path took us uphill to the top of Monte do Gozo where an impressive monument commemorating Pope John Paul II’s visit to Santiago de Compostela sits. Bronze panels with different religious imagery surround the huge concrete sculpture and the tributes and prayers scattered around show the significance it has to catholic pilgrims. Just below the monument is a small stone church and we stopped for a stamp as well as photos by the monument. On our way again down the slope and ahead of us in the distance we could finally see the Cathedral spires. We may have been able to see it, but it was still a long way off and we were now walking through the city. The final 5km seemed to take forever and we were thankful that it was a cooler day. It would have been hard work walking through the concrete jungle in 30-degree heat. The new city gave way to the older part of town and we picked up our pace, the historic town was now in front of us and in the centre was the Cathedral, our final destination.
We had a bounce in our step as we strode through the cobbled pedestrian streets bustling with pilgrims, down the slope through the ancient stone archway and out into the expansive Plaza de la Quintana flanked by the towering Cathedral. It was an exhilarating moment and I was not the only one with a lump in my throat. We had done it. 117kms completed. We high-fived and hugged and posed for photos in front of the cathedral. Now it was time to get our Compostela Certificates.
The line for the Compostela certificates was 2 hours long; not what you need when you’re dusty and hot. We agreed to come back after 6 and it was back to our hotel to shower and freshen up. Andrew and I went to find something to eat and got talking to an Irish guy who had just finished the 227km Portuguese Way that runs from Porto in Portugal up the coast and across to Santiago. He’d left his wife in Ireland and done it alone. He described a beautiful trail along the Portuguese coast and then inland over a mountain range to Santiago. It sounded a lot tougher than the French Way and he had some killer blisters to prove it, poor guy. Being Irish he had the gift of the gab – spurred on by the exhilaration of his accomplishment and with a pint or two under his belt we knew his life story by the time we’d finished our patatas bravas and calamari. Andrew did make sure he knew the great Irish Rugby Coach of the moment, Joe Schmidt, spent a lot of time in our home town of Tauranga before heading overseas to ply his coaching trade. He was quite taken by the fact that Andrew knew him and said it would be a national tragedy if he leaves Ireland.
We were rosy cheeked and a bit tipsy from our pint when we met up with Tim and Julie at the Compostela office. Thankfully the queue was a lot shorter. We’d been told that they ask you about the purpose of your pilgrimage and also look through your pilgrim’s passport to check your stamps to ensure you actually did the walk. It sounded a bit daunting especially as none of us are religious and this is after all a Catholic pilgrimage, but it was quite the opposite. They were incredibly welcoming and friendly. I was asked if I’d enjoyed my walk and where we’d started before flicking through the passport to check the dates. The others were asked much the same. We were each issued with an ornate certificate with our names written in Latin. Mission complete.
Day 8: Monday, September 17th
Santiago de Compostela
A pilgrim’s church service is held in the Cathedral at midday each day and again at 7.30pm. We arrived too late for the midday service the day before and the 7.30pm one was too late for us after the excitement of the day, so we decided to go at midday on the Monday. We arrived early to secure a seat and it wasn’t long before the cavernous cathedral was packed with pilgrims. The ornate interior is magnificent, and the service was very moving – nuns with heavenly voices filling the nave with song and the chants of monks resonating around the Romanesque pillars. What makes this service so special is the giant incense burner that is swung dramatically above the congregation spilling sweet smelling smoke as it goes. This beautiful silver botafumerio (Spanish for incense burner) is the largest in the world weighing 80kgs and measuring 1.60 metres in height. However, it is not guaranteed that the botafumerio will be swung at every service. The contributions from the congregation have to be sufficient enough to cover the 400-euro cost of the 40kgs of incense. We were lucky. We had a generous congregation and the botafumerio was soon swinging high above us accompanied by that angel-voiced nun singing so exquisitely. It was an awe-inspiring experience and an apt way to finish El Camino de Santiago.
After the service Andrew and I went back into the square and watched other pilgrims arrive. One woman came through and shouted “yes” with a vigorous air punch. She was alone, and we congratulated her and offered to take her photo in front of the cathedral. She was German and had walked 500 km of the French Way alone and was stoked we had been there to “meet” her. The camaraderie of the Camino is ever present.
The rest of the day we shopped for souvenirs and enjoyed the buzzing atmosphere of this vibrant city. The day finished with an evening tour of the Cathedral roof with views across the city and then a farewell dinner. Farewell to El Camino de Santiago, farewell to Spain, and farewell to Europe after an epic 17-month adventure.
The next day we left Spain and Europe and flew home.
