The final lap

Hi all,
Thanks for all the supportive messages, they help a lot. Will continue the story in the new, short but sweet sections.

Santiago (1): Took the bus in from Triacastela and had my old pal James Taylor on the cans to help bring up the down mood. That man always does the business. This was followed by the Stones doing "Brown Sugar" and a truly wonderful version of "You Can´t Always Get What you Want"(chior included)

Arrived to meet Mark and Pauline and had a wonderful lunch and I suppose I did ramble on a bit.

Did try to get an alberque in Santiago but they were all full and in reality I wanted to get to the sea as quickly as possible. Hopped a bus for Fisterre and arrived woebegone (knackered) nearly four hours later. It is supposed to take 2hrs 30mins. Fortunately I had phoned ahead to book a mattress (all the beds were gone).

Again the concept of a mattress neeeds a little updating in this part of the world. It turned out to be 9mm of foam to which I added the 9mm of foam I was carrying with me and a couple of blankets to cushion the floor. This was almost exactly the same type of bed I had so long ago in Torres del Rio only this time there were no bloody church bells. Had a cup of tea, hit the floor and slept like a baby, ie cried for my mammy. Next morning got a room in a boarding house and crashed for a few hours.

Fisterre: A relatively small town entirely devoted to two things, fish and tourists. The fish they catch and sell and the tourists they treat well, at least I was and grateful for it too.

Aside: Must remember to return the key to room 34 in Hostel Lopez when I get home.

Sky was a bit overcast so I wandered out in the shorts (not a pretty sight) and took in what little there is to see. Visited a really interesting church dedicated to the fishermen and considered going to the "end of the earth". It was 2.5km away and I thought, "No, too far for the leg". So I wandered around a bit more and found I was a bit nearer the "end of the earth". This went on for about an hour and I finally found myself, guess where, yup at "the end of the earth". Possibly the Camino makes people move in mysterious ways too.

On my arrival I was a bit disappointed and not as excited as I thought I would be. Probably still tired. However the place is a tourist trap, stalls selling everything for the discerning mug and simply mobbed with people and their cars.

I managed, as did a few others, to walk through the throng and on down to a part of the rock beyond humankind and into a bit of solitude. It was very gentle and peaceful and a time for contemplation. One of my ambitions had been to walk to the end of the earth and in a very limited way I had done that.

After a bit I noticed a woman sitting along a bit and discovered that she and I had met very briefly at Logroño, a long ways back. She is Canadian and out there looking. We had a great chat about, life, love, the universe and the number 42.

Very powerful personality but she seems not to know it. For example when I enquired when she was returning home she let it be known that she was off to Lisbon the following night and then onto Morocco to do some charity work before going back to Canada. Dumbstruck is not the word. There are people out here who are just too big for words.

Aside: She did go to Lisbon on the 10.00pm from Santiago.

The following day it was back to Santiago to see the cathedral for real and also in the hopes of meeting up with Greg and the guys coming in on Monday morning.

Aside: Oh and the bit about the sky being overcast, well by the time I had stealthily made my way to the lighthouse it was not overcast and I had shorts and I had not the factor 50. I do though have the most brilliantly sunburned legs you have seen for some time.

Aside: Apparently in Celtic mythology Heaven lies beyond this point. However we now know that it is the US.

Santiago (2): On the way to Fisterre I had bought a wee book about the cathedral in order to prepare for the visit. I did not want a repeat of Burgos and Leon where I knew nothing about the reasons why the building had been designed in the manner in which it had been. Turned up suitably informed and ran into the most horrible throng of tourists imaginable.

All fours squares surrounding the cathedral had stalls, jesters, a bloody jazz guitarist with amps full on and a dosser dressed in the ancient peregrino costume organising people for a ride on a bloody toy train which cirles the cathedral.

I did my best to read my book and view the cathedral structure, making note of things to look at more closely the next day (today, Monday) and mainly enjoying it despite the disturbances (especially that bloody guitarist) and it got worse.

It was just on six o´clock and Mass was starting. I went in and took my place in the pew to attend the service. Lots of other peolle did the same thing and though it was all in Spanish I was able to follow the service as it progressed. However there were people walking all over the place, taking flash photos and video recording. Mums and Dads and weans were posing to get their picture taken and that was even happening during the sermon. It was a bloody circus and a complete outrage.

When we all set out on this journey, there is a sense of the spiritual no matter how little and if there is not I defy anyone to say that it did not become so along the journey. Tens of thousands of us give a lot of time and effort to upholding the idea of the pilgrim, helping each other as best we can, giving each other space, holding onto our hopes for ourselves and trying to face the fears we come across as we move through the journey. We do everything we can to achieve the goal of arriving in Santiago and possibly, as many of the books state, find some sense of fullfillmet at the end of the journey. Well, mince, mince and more mince.

All of our efforts are betrayed by the crass commercialism at the final point on the walk. It is an absolute disgrace and, not joke intended, something should be done about.

Santiago (3):
Retreated to a lovely albergue, a bit new age and had a quite pleasent evening chatting with fellow travellers. Came into town this morning and met with Greg, Massimo and Fransico who were clutching their Compostelas and spreading smiles like confetti.

Booked into a hostal and attended the midday mass which is dedicated to all pilgrims who have arrived that day. A much more sober and closely managed service and all the better for it. So now off to see a bit more of the cathedral and celebrate our reunion at "The Black Cat". Should be a good night.

Will give details of the events when possible.

best,
Arthur