Day 11: Amenal to Santiago de Compestela (10mi/14km)

We did it! 208 kilometers/129 miles!

That's Jessica exulting in front of our hotel, a 16th century pilgrim's hospital turned fancy - El Parador de Santiago, also known as Hostal dos Reis Catolicos (we upgraded from our typical Camino lodging). The last day we trekked through seemingly endless suburbs and made a couple of circles around Santiago's medieval streets before we walked through a dark extended arch, past a bagpiper, and into the Plaza del Obradoiro (literally, the square for the workers who built the cathedral). All peregrinos finish their journey in the square, congratulating themselves and each other as they take in the magnificence of the Catedral de Santiago.

What a cathedral it is. Unfortunately, it is being restored, and the facade is obscured by scaffolding. Still, I can imagine weary, ill pilgrims entering it and thinking this must be what heaven looks like. Gilded and golden, St. James reigns triumphant as apostle, pilgrim, and moor destroyer -  above the alter looking down at the pilgrims and on his steed (where the slain moors are now hidden behind flowers because of feared terrorist attacks).

If you look carefully at St. James' shoulders, you'll see a pair of hands. That's because traditional peregrinos end their pilgrimage by embracing the statue and thanking him for his mercy, or imploring him for his favor.

In the evening we went out with some Danes we had met on the Camino and celebrated with tapas and wine.

And here is the official certificate we received from the cathedral that says it all.

It was a great journey. Not quite the one we were expecting. John lost the guide book on the fourth day, and that seemed appropriate. We couldn't replace it, and relied on the yellow arrows and the kindness of peregrinos to guide us west. We already talk about doing our second Camino -- maybe El Norte: the northern route along the Spanish coast, or the route going south through Portugual, but probably the beginning of the Camino Frances from St Jean Pied de Port across the pyrenees to Burgos, then a bus trip across the Meseta to Leon, and ending with a walk to Astorga. Any fellow pilgrims out there?

One thing we'd change: no self-instructional messages. St Augustine and dharma talks were distractors when there is so much to notice in the rich and beautiful country. Also less stuff and no computer (and consequently no blog). Maybe just pictures as a way to focus attention and share experience. And it has been a wonderful experience, a Buen Camino.

Day 10: Arzua to Amenal (14mi/23km)

Two days to go. The terrain today was similar to yesterday, and the weather has held. We did see some new hikers, who struck us as naturals.

We also passed a touching memorial to a peregrino who died just short of his goal. Some pilgrims carry small rocks with them to symbolize their journey, and many had placed them on his shrine.

The mile markers (to Santiago) are a comfort: You know you are on the right path, and the distance to Santiago continues to get smaller. Today we have less than 40 to go!

As we near Santiago, we encountered not only more cafes and more people, but more rubbish containers. Someone has illustrated them with John Lennon's lyrics from Imagine.  In need of some distraction while walking at this point, we joined a middle-aged couple from Scotland in singing Beatles songs!

Tonight we are staying in our third casa rural - a 100 year old converted mill 15 minutes from the Camino. These country cottages are nice, but we probably wouldn't stay in them again. The drive back and forth to the Way is a drag.  The local wine is good, however.

Tomorrow, the final push. We couldn't have done this without some crucial gear: Advil and Tylenol for aches and pains, sunscreen, almonds for snacks, and the essential Compeed, gauze, etc. for blisters. Of course we can't forget the walking poles, hat, Camelbacks, Swiss Army knife, Merino wool underwear, down vest, bandanas, and cycling gloves for sore thumb joints, as well as pack covers, rain pants, gaiters, and rain jackets for those days of rain.  For walking in the cold mornings it was helpful to have an additional base layer, gloves, and wool hat. 

What we could have done without: we really only needed two of everything - pants, T shirts, long sleeved shirts, socks and liners, underwear, etc. We washed things out after showering and let them dry on the radiators overnight (on in the evening and morning in this weather).  

Tomorrow - the cathedral!

Day 9: Melide to Arzua (8mi/13km)

The weather has been consistent for several days – in the high 30’s/low 40’s when we start off rising to sunny high 50’s/low 60’s mid-day. Vests and fleece come off around 11 and come back on at dinner. Spaniards like other Europeans keep domestic temperatures low.

As we near Santiago the countryside is less appealing, although we chance upon pretty streams and forest groves. 

We are struck by the stands of planted eucalyptus, and how this messy tree has been placed alongside the road. Jessica read that it now pervades Spain, and is used for papermaking and lumber.

Today’s walk was short, but we dawdled and saw some new birds including a chaffinch and gray wagtail.  After reaching Arzua we phoned the Casa Rural (“country cottage”) where we are staying tonight. The owner picked us up and drove us about 10 minutes through the countryside to another converted 18^th century farmhouse, this one located between a cow pasture and an old church. Fellow guests included a Spanish family, a couple from Florida, and a couple from Denmark whose children gave them a walking trip on the Camino for their 25^th wedding anniversary. Dinner consisted of rather dry beef and chicken, but a great starter of fish stew-- the best soup we have had all trip.

Let’s digress and talk food.

Breakfast has consistently included toasted fresh bread, jam, butter, cheese, meat (hams, salami, chorizo), café con leche, sometimes a hard boiled egg, and occasionally a “tortilla,” which we would call a potato frittata. When nobody is looking we appropriate bread, cheese and meat and make sandwiches for lunch. A few pieces of purloined fruit, and we are set for the day.

All of our dinners have been a “Pilgrim Meal” or Menu Peregino., which are typically 10 euro although we have had one splurge at 15 euro. This consists of three courses, wine, water and bread. Excellent first courses have included Caldo Gallego (a thick cabbage and potato soup with olive oil and whatever is available), ensalada (lettuce with artfully arranged peppers, onion, olives, tuna, tomatoes dressed with vinegar and olive oil), warm green beans and ham in olive oil, and the aforementioned seafood stew. The main course includes fish, chicken, or beef simply fixed with fried or boiled potatoes in olive oil. We did get some fancy sauces when staying at fancier places, but the outlines were the same. This is accompanied by a large bottle of water and a bottle of tinto or blanco wine. The quality of the wine varies directly with the price of the meal. In O’Cebriero, we were served corkless wine in a labelless bottle – I looked around for the jug and the funnel but couldn’t find it. With more expensive dinners the wine is ceremoniously opened at the table, and can be quite good. Once opened the bottle sits on the table, and is mysteriously empty at the end of the meal.

Dessert consists of flan, cake (usually Santiago cake which has almonds inside yellow cake), ice cream, fruit, rice pudding, or chocolate pudding. We are always asked if we want coffee (we never do), and one night we lived it up with Torres Spanish brandy after the meal.

Meals initiate certain rituals on the part of the restaurant and server. If you are served a meal (as opposed to a snack like a sandwich or an empanada) placemats or a paper tablecloth will be placed on the table. Food is brought out on serving dishes instead of being pre-portioned on your plate. There are always 4 pieces of bread, and it is brought to the table before anything else. Then you are asked what you will be drinking. Finally you are asked for your menu choices.

The Camino dips in and out of villages, so there is always a “bar” (what would be called a café in France) within an hour or two of walking. In fact, during this last stretch into Santiago we seem to pass a bar every kilometer. These are welcome, as you can stop, sit down (Yes!), and gulp an espresso or anything else you fancy. I’ve been surprised at the number of peregrinos who take beer breaks along the path, as this would seriously inhibit my progress, but maybe for them, process preempts progress. It’s worth noting that there is a “cerveza artesanal” served in the bars called “Peregrina” with a fetching, long-necked, becloaked female on the label.

We are looking at a long walk tomorrow, and then the triumphant entry to Santiago the next day.

Day 8: Palas de Rei to Melide (9mi/15km)

Always directed by the yellow arrows, it is impossible to get lost. A lovely track today through meadows and oak woods, the trees just beginning to leaf out. The sound of the cuckoo echoed across the hills, while the chiffchaff sang insistently close by. More walkers than we have seen before, although not obnoxious. Even the Spaniard who played music through a Bluetooth speaker swinging from his pack wasn't too bad. Remember Brierly's admonition in the guidebook  - do not feel annoyance at the influx of pilgrims who begin the walk at Sarria. They are all pilgrims too, although he may be more charitable than I.

A beautiful day for walking. Sun shining, people in shorts. My blister hurt, but not too bad; the toe doesn't look great but feels fine. In contrast to yesterday I felt I could make good time. But I do enjoy stopping to pursue the elusive bird songs. Two German women we encountered laughingly told us that they were the "flower pilgrims" because they liked to stop at look at the flowers while walking. I replied that we must be the bird pilgrims then. But it is hard to bird when there are walkers coming up the track every few minutes.

We passed through several small hamlets today, each with its own stone church, none of which is ever open. Kind of frustrating to read intriguing sounding descriptions of 15th century wall paintings in the guide book, such as the one in the Iglesias de Santa Maria in Leboreiro, and not be able to see them. Houses in these villages are a different architectural style, with tile roofs rather than slate or thatch. In general these villages feel closer together, with more cars, more people.

We arrived in Melide mid afternoon after a short walking day. It is a larger town than we have been in, not very attractive with ugly boxy buildings in the newer part of town, where our hotel is surrounded by car dealerships and farm equipment stores. Apart from a 14th century church and a stone cross outside depicting the crucifixion (with Jesus sitting down), there is not much to see. But there is one important thing to do here - eat octopus! Melide is known for its "Pulpo Gallego", boiled octopus served with olive oil, paprika, a hunk of bread, and a ceramic bowl of cold, refreshing Rebeiro wine. Pulperia Ezequiel was recommended by the hotel reception as the place to eat this delicacy, and it did not disappoint. A Spanish variation on a Southern BBQ joint, people ate family style on long plain wooden tables, the food simply prepared and served and savored by all. I am not wild about octopus, but John thought it was delicious and I enjoyed an empanada and ensalada mixta.

The dinner menu del dia at the hotel restaurant was full of exotic sounding dishes so we ordered what we didn't know -- callos con garbanzos, raxo con potatas fritas, and merluza salsa verde -- only to discover that callos is a stew made with garbanzos and tripe, raxo is fried pork, and merluza is hake, with lots of bones! The accompanying wine was delicious - a local white Godello.

Tomorrow we have a short (8 mile) walk to Arzua. Some up and down, but mainly through agricultural fields. We talked with a Texan at dinner who had just walked 24 miles, compressing what we did in two days into one. This was his second Camino. He had begun at the Roncesvalles monastery. He was sorry to be so close to the end. "You get to Santiago, walk into the square, and look up at the cathedral, and look around for the finish line. There is no finish line. It's over and you say, 'Oh Well,' and go get a glass of wine." Like the Texan, who grew up in London, we don't want the walking to be over either.

Day 7: Portomarin to Palas de Rei (16mi/23km)

Portomarin was built in the 1960's after a (planned) new dam flooded the old town site. In the midst of the 17th and 18th century architecture one finds throughout the villages, it seems like they hired the same city planner/architect who designs those new airport hotels at Orly or Heathrow.

Toes bandaged/blisters popped and protected, we stepped out in good weather and and began a grueling day that seemed to stretch forever. We passed through some lovely countryside, and passed lots of crop and cow fields.

We passed through small villages marked by iconic grain storage structures whose form hasn't varied for centuries.

And dodged some cows being herded up the road.

We enjoyed watching a flock of sheep devour stale bread flung by the farmer.

And passed lovely, small romanesque churches.

We also took time to talk to other peregrinos. Besides the expected, "Where are you from?" (and of course, everyone is impressed that we are from San Francisco), we were often asked, "Is this your first Camino?" So many pilgrims have done parts (if not all) of it before, and have returned to savor it again. People talk about the awful weather they endured (it rained for weeks straight before we began walking), and celebrate the sunshine when it emerges from behind the clouds. Some are marking an event (30th birthday, traveling with her mother) or a passage (death of husband). Others are walking to experience the land ("Next year," one German pilgrim told us, "I am going to walk 800km across Switzerland and France and Spain; my friends think I am crazy.") Most are carrying bulky backpacks and staying in albergues, but there are enough softies that suitcase transportation companies do a good business. We met one family who was not only carrying their gear, they were pushing their son down the path in a three-wheel baby stroller.

We think that when we return we might carry our gear, and travel with more control over where we stay -- both in terms of location and accommodation. For John, the jury is still out regarding albergues -- bunking down with 30 of your new best friends in a sterile room does not appeal strongly, but some albergues have private rooms that could provide a good compromise between the international mix of peregrinos found at albergues, and his desire for privacy. And we do want to return, and walk from St. Jean Pied de Port in France, over the Roncesvalles pass in the Pyrenees, where Charlemagne was defeated and Roland died, to at least Pamplona, and perhaps to Burgos.

So why are we walking? The easiest answer is we like to walk through new country and culture, and challenge ourselves physically. We are having a good time, enjoying the experience and each other. There is also time to think, but I find that I don't have the capacity to dwell on issues or concepts for extended periods while walking. There is too much to see and it is too easy to trip. But spurts of walking are good for thinking and wondering. It's hard to travel through this country without considering the role Catholicism has played in people's lives, and the overall functioning of religion in general. I had thought that I might dwell on spiritual topics, and began listening to St. Augustine's Confessions, a book I first read at Wesleyan in 1966. But I don't know how that is going to work out. Augustine was a rhetorician, and a devout believer in God, and there is much to wade through and think about before getting to the reason I wanted to listen to the book: What brought Augustine to God? Why, after a dissolute life, did he stay? Jessica tells me to be open, suggesting that a purpose-driven approach to spirituality is a dead end. And this may be. But I worry about "missing" wisdom: walking all these miles and leaving with only a headful of vistas and lovely feelings. Isn't a pilgrimage supposed to bring more?

At mile 14 we packed it in. Jessica developed a new blister, and each step was an electric shock. We made it to a cafe, and they called a taxi. Thirty minutes later we were ensconced in our guesthouse for the night -- a renovated 18th century farmhouse, the open-hearth kitchen made into a sitting area, but with smoke on the walls, and relics of the past.



































Dinner was lovely (Jessica had salmon, I had stewed beef), and the wine was fresh and local. There was homemade raspberry sorbet for dessert (more about food later). Thoughts of albergues and group meals receded (at least for a while), and I felt very, very lucky to have and share this experience.

Day 6: Sarria to Samos to Portomarin (by taxi)

Today was a day of monasteries. We began by walking around Sarria and enjoyed the spare Iglesia de San Salvador with the omnipresent peregrino statue.

 





A further walk up the hill took us to the Convent of A Magdelena founded at the beginning of the 13th century as a pilgrim hospital by Italian monks of the Order of the Blessed Martyrs of Jesus. These monks were also pilgrims. The stonework floor was arresting.

Then a taxi to the Monastery of San Xulian de Samos, a Benedictine house founded in the 6th century which has been providing assistance to peregrinos ever since. Even today there is an albergue. We were toured by a rotund monk, who must have originally trained as a stand-up comic. He was born in La Mancha, and joined the order 26 years ago. He is now 46, and has been giving tours here for 23 years. As he walked us around the splendid halls,  silence reigned when he wasn't talking. Nothing moved. We asked our guide how many monks lived in the monastery. "Now there are 8, although in the 19th century there were 100, and they produced and sold liqueur."  

One of the more surprising aspects of this monumental monastery was the frescoes. Not the ones in the chapel, but the modern ones that adorned the hallways. Take a look. Is this artistic sensibility or sublimation?

From the sublime of the Benedictines we taxied to Portomarin. A walk through the town showed the increased commercialization of the Camino we had first seen in Sarria.

And several souvenir shops that seemed to compete in reaching new heights of tacky. We especially liked the pocket knife in the shape of a foot.

And that's it. Jessica's foot is better, and we are looking forward to getting on the road again tomorrow. More to come.

Day 5: Triacastela to Sarria (13mi/21km)

A lovely morning for walking. Not too cool, sun shining, birds singing, great views.

As we descended towards Sarria on narrow tracks through oak forests, the countryside became increasingly pastoral, dotted with diary farms, fields of wildflowers, and small villages, each with its own tiny church.

Everywhere there are signs for albergues (hostels). The Camino is very busy in the summer; even now, we are never completely alone. There are always a few pilgrims before us and behind us, some human and some non-human.

Another peregrino and her dog

"Bat" (from Batman) walking from Astorga with his owners

The last few kilometers into Sarria we walked along the road. John strode ahead but I struggled with a new ailment - a nasty blister on the same foot with my even nastier second toe! We found an urgent care clinic where no one spoke English (or even French). Chattering away in Spanish (none of which I understood), the nurse lanced the blister and the toe's nail bed, and bandaged both. With grand gestures and big sighs, she indicated I was going to lose the nail and should not walk tomorrow. We are thus taking an unexpected rest day and will explore Sarria and the monastery at Samos. Oh well.