Camino Portugues Day 16 - Milladoiro to Santiago de Compostela

The dormitory lights went on automatically at 5.45, so although it was a peaceful and comfortable night, it was a short one. I couldn’t leave straight away as it was too dark outside and I’d decided not to bring a head torch in my rucksack, thinking, rightly, that I’d always be back early enough and the nights are dark late. But in Spain the sun rises late, so I needed to wait a bit.

But eventually, there was enough light in the sky for it to be safe for me to leave, and so I set off before the dawn. That’s not a phrase I say very often. I paused in a small copse to listen to the birds hoping that the Way would provide something ornithologically extraordinary for my friend Sophie, but they were just the usual suspects. Very lovely usual suspects though.

It was misty, which I could see rising above the trees as I came out of the wood, and so there was a light amount of damp on me. But not enough to justify the poncho. Although there had been some people awake in the kitchen, all grumbling about the fact that the albergue puts the lights on at 5:45 in the bedrooms but not in any of the communal rooms, and a couple of people set off before I did, for this  section of walking I was completely on my own.

I walked past small holdings, little houses that mostly appeared to be asleep, still listening to the birds and reflecting on this amazing last fortnight. It’s been a fabulous experience, full of joy and interest. It’s not been the hardest walk I’ve done, though there have been some very challenging bits. The foreignness of it has made it both intriguing and exciting, and I’ve been delighted that I’ve been able to approach all the hurdles that come with this sort of adventure without anxiety. I’ve been more calm than I’ve been for any of my previous treks.

There was a less than lovely section moving under and then around the side of a motorway whilst also climbing a hill. Great combo.

And then as I came near to a strange shrine-like place with a model of a pilgrim and some motivating lines, the rain actually started. So I huddled into  the little shed next to my peregrino friend, to put on my poncho, take a photo with him, read the messages: ‘you shall not wear unclean socks’ As if! Everything I am carrying is stinky, it’s just a question of degree. I set off again in my rain gear. And within minutes the rain stopped, the sun wasn’t exactly out, but there were patches of blue.

At about 3 km from Santiago there was  a junction with two signs pointing in opposite directions. I looked at the guidebook, and it suggested that I turned right. So that’s the way I went. But then my app later was telling me I did the wrong thing. I considered going back, but decided that this has always been my Camino, and therefore I would carry on doing it the way I had chosen.

It meant I got to see the square with the old sanatorium in it and also to watch a group of men pushing back a taxi that had managed to partially drive over a ramp, so that one wheel was hanging in the air.  So those were two bonuses. But mainly it meant that I got an extra kilometre of this wonderful walk. That alone made it worth it.

As I came up the hill into the town centre it was completely silent. Everything was closed. Nobody on the streets. It was magic. And then, to add to my joy, the sun came out. 

I had been walking at my normal pace, but now I slowed to hold onto the experience for as long as I could. I was so glad I’d chosen to do a very short day today so that I could walk into the city in the morning.

My side route eventually joined the shorter route and now I only had a kilometre or so left. There were a few people on the streets now, one or two in rucksacks. The approach to the end of the Camino is dramatic.

As the path winds up a cobbled street, the top of the cathedral is just visible, and then it leads the pilgrim into the Plaza da Obridorio, and then there is the extraordinary, ancient building that has been the final destination for walkers across the world for centuries.

I’ve been here before, in what feels like a different life, and so there was familiarity for me at the beginning.  But this experience was new, and on top of everything else some ghosts were being laid. There was just me and two German girls there. We took each other’s photographs, and I felt deeply privileged to have this extraordinary place virtually to myself.

People then started to arrive pretty quickly, including the Canadian man I’d talked to in the albergue last night. it was nice to have someone to congratulate and be congratulated by.

Then I went to the pilgrim’s office to pick up my Compostela, the official certificate of my walk. I was not in any way doing this Camino for a certificate, but it felt like not doing the experience fully if I didn’t collect it. It was a brief exchange, after a queue of about half an hour, but the girl behind the counter smiled and congratulated me before I went off into the city.

Very conscious that I’d only had a peach from the albergue and a cup of peppermint tea, I went to get a pan con tomate breakfast whilst debating what to do next. I’d dropped my bag at my hostel for the night, so I was allowed to go into the cathedral. I saw that the queue for entrance was moving, so I joined it and sat down.

I then sat for an hour and a half in the cathedral, just breathing and watching whilst waiting for the Pilgrim’s Mass to begin. I was near the front, under the organ which periodically was being practised on. I had the altar with the shrine to St James in front of me, all gilt and opulence, with a slow stream of people filing past the saint’s remains.  There were lots of guided tours, a harassed young woman doing hasty flower arranging around the massive candles and in front of the altar, a formidable sturdy security guard glaring at us all and telling us to be silent and put our phones away.

The proceedings started with five volunteers telling us about the different foreign language events that the Camino Friends organisations run. At this point I looked behind me down the arm of the church I was sitting in. Every seat was taken, and there were many many people standing. Wikipedia tells me that the cathedral’s capacity is 1200. I think that’s just on seats - there felt to be far more there today.

Once the priests had come in, a small and young looking nun came to the microphone. She explained (I think) that she was going to teach us a song. She had a beautiful, confident clear voice, and she sang the short phrase and invited us to copy her. She made us do it 6 or 7 times before she was happy. Her role was very important through the service, she was essentially doing the role of the hymn singing, periodically inviting us to join her.

I’ve only ever been to a few Catholic masses, and I was needing to follow the lead of the people around me to make sure I wasn’t causing offence by standing instead of sitting or similar. When it came to the act of communion I obviously stayed back, which gave me the chance to observe the faithful as they queued in their hundreds. Almost everybody was wearing scuffed grubby trainers or walking shoes. These really were pilgrims. I was distracted from being moved and a bit tearful by this, by the formidable security woman checking people had eaten the communion wafer. She made somebody swallow it in front of her, presumably so that they didn’t take it home as a souvenir.

And then, as the priests returned to the altar, I could see a team of men untying the ropes attached to the botafumeiro. This is an incense burner that is so large that it requires 5 men to swing it, and once it is swung it goes tens of feet into the air, flying over the heads of the congregation. It is by no means swung at every service, I’ve met two people today who live in Santiago who have never seen it fly. But it was flying today.

The story goes that it was originally swung to clean the church of the smell of the pilgrims. Could be it still has that purpose today. It filled the church with incense smoke that completely overwhelmed any other smell in the building. The organist played music that reflected the visual drama, thundering out above my head. Watching it, hearing it, smelling it, feeling so incredibly lucky that I was there to see it, that I was there at all, and so thankful for my strength that had got me to the end, it was completely overwhelming. No photo I could take (we were allowed to for this bit!) could ever convey how it felt to be there. The Italian lady next to me whom I had followed for correct mass etiquette turned and hugged me.  And then I was sobbing on her shoulder.  I will never forget it.

I’m staying in a hostel right round the corner from the cathedral. It’s cheap, with thin walls, but really lovely. I’m in the attic, and I look out over the rooftops of the city.

The owner suggested some places for me to eat. The first restaurant was two minutes walk from the hostel, and although it had quite a fancy sit down section, I was keener to sit at the bar, where I could watch the chefs creating amazing looking dishes, octopus leg, chorizo and egg, all sorts of shellfish. I was more in the mood for a lighter meal, so I asked the waiter to suggest things, and I ended up with a mixed plate of montaditos, the tapas size open sandwiches. He ordered 6 different ones, I ordered a glass of albarinho, everything was brilliant, all was well with the world. He came back to check on me afterwards, I told him that he’d made my experience perfect, he put his hand on my shoulder and I was almost off again…,

Because my ice cream fans would have been disappointed otherwise, I took myself off for a gelato chaser. And I took a photo of it looking down the street I’d walked in on. Utterly transformed, lively, noisy, full of tourists and peregrinos.

As I took my first mouthful (dulce de leche, very good!) I heard my name being called. And there were Kurt and Deb walking in with Sarah whom they’d met in their hostel last night. It meant that I had the great pleasure of walking with them back to the square, and seeing it with different eyes. Where it had been my square, now all of life was here, buskers, cyclists, a wedding going on, and hundreds of pilgrims in various stages of exhaustion and emotion celebrating their achievement. It was great to be part of a bigger group’s celebration.

I caught a ten minute nap, and then I went on a trip up onto the roof of the cathedral. This was quite something, seeing the city from above, albeit a bit vertiginous.

But mostly I had to guess at the history, as the guide was speaking entirely in fast Spanish, with no help given to the half of the group who didn’t understand her. My Duolingo work hasn’t progressed to architectural styles and design yet. So I did a lot of looking. And marvelling at the stone mason’s work that was so beautiful and so unlikely to have been seen by anyone except him - he wouldn’t have conceived of a group of tourists standing on the roof and being able to use the zooms on their phones to see the detail.

In a Phantom Tollbooth moment, the formidable security lady from this morning then guided us through a display about Master Mateo, who assumed control of the  design of this extraordinary cathedral, started in 1075 and finished in 1211.

I’d already lived far more than one days worth of experiences, but there was more. I’d heard about a Yoga for Camino class that was being held in the city, and I thought that sounded perfect. Amhinsa yoga only started a week ago as a business, and I really hope it’s a huge success. It was just me in this class, and I was carefully led through stretches and a sound bath, leaving me relaxed and rejuvenated. Such a great idea for peregrinos at the end of their journey.

And to round it off I met up with Kurt, Deb and Sarah for dinner. It felt lovely to be with Camino friends for my last night in Spain. We had tapas together and a nostalgic pastel de nata before saying good night.

I have half a day in Santiago tomorrow before catching the plane home, but as my walk is finished I won’t be writing again on this Camino. Thank you as always for reading it, especially as I know there are issues with the blog site not sending notifications to everyone. If I do another walk I am going to investigate an alternative.

‘If’ I do another walk!  I think it’s pretty certain that I’ve got a lot of walking in me yet.

Stats

Distance travelled - 5 miles / 8 km

Total ascent - 492 feet/150 m

Total distance travelled - 172miles/272km