Tag: St. Jacque de Compestello

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Day 31, Olveiroa to Fisterre, Spain Oct. 10




My last day of a 550 mile walk across northern Spain on the Way of St. James Pilgrimage.

 

21 miles, hilly along the coast. 8 am to 2:30 pm.

Going to the Coast of Death, as it is known for the many shipwrecks off this coast. 1987 was the last shipwreck.

Dip in the sea at the first chance I get. Take off boots and socks and jump in in all my clothes. It is warm and feels good. Everything dries after walking another half an hour.
The villages are charming. There are fishermen repairing their nets in their yards.

Check into the last hostel, 3 Euros and receive my certificate for reaching the coast. It is colorful. Wash my clothes, have a beer and a siesta. Pick up cheese and bread and jam at the market.
Stop by the local castle San Carlos, which is now a fishing museum.
Then walk 3 more miles to the cape where the lighthouse is.
Watch the sunset.
Now the walk feels really over.
A Dane passes out wine in little cups.
There is a fire and we burn something. The Dane walked from Denmark and burns his socks. I write something on a piece of paper and it goes in the fire.
My legs turn to lead. It is really over.

My emotions are mixed. I loved it all and am glad to be going home. But I will miss all the friends I made.

The we walk 3 miles back to town, Fisterre, in the dark. I have a very nice dinner of seafood chowder and bread.

I am finished!

Tomorrow I will stay another day in Fisterre to enjoy the sea, and  another sunset on the cape. Then on Oct. 13 I take the bus back to Santiago. On October 14 I fly from Santiago to London. October 15 I fly from London to Seattle, where I stay with my children for a few days before returning to Eugene, Oregon. It was a fabulous adventure.
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Day 26, Palas dei Rei to Arzua, Spain Oct 5, 2008

17 miles. 1,350 ft. ascent, 1,300 ft. descent. 8:30 am to 2 pm

Clear blue skies, crisp and breezy. Perfect for walking in my long-sleeve shirt.
Now in the Galacia region, where James the Apostle of Jesus, preached the Gospel for 30 years. This is documented evidence. After 30 years he went back to visit Rome, where they remembered him and beheaded him. Tale is his bones washed on the Spanish coast at Muxia, and are now at the cathedral in Santiago. It’s a longer story than this, of course.
Acorns fall about me in the breeze.
Yellow leaves herald the beginning of fall.
Blossoms of purple heather with yellow gorse blooms amongst them, much like England and Ireland.
Etched in concrete or an outdoor, common laundry structure for the village hand washing is the date 1987. A small stream is directed through it.
Yellow arrows guide pilgrims to Santiago.  They are every 20 to 50 feet, perhaps on a fence, the road, a rock, a telephone pole. It is great entertainment looking for them, hoping I did not miss one.  But I do occasionally and a local person shouts to me and waves me in the other direction. I am sure I provide great entertainment for them.
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Day 25, Barbadelo to Portomarna, Spain, Oct. 3, 2008


12 miles, 1,700 ascent and 2,000 descent. 8 am to 12:30 pm

Cool, lovely walking day.
Crowing roosters
Hamlets of old stone farms
Wicker corn crib with thatched roof
Stone corn cribs, raised on stone pillars
Tiny chapels
Clucking hens
Vegetable gardens
Traditional dress of locals, all women wear skits, with smocks over them.
Ripe, green acorns fall on me occasionally.
Ripe blackberries, just like I pick in Oregon.
The French pilgrim hands me a nectarine gift as I sketch on the trail and he passes me by. We have been leap-frogging down the trail for days now.
Stayed in Pension Manuel for 20 Euros. A friendly older couple welcomed me, showed me the cooking stove in the cement patio. The sheets are threadbare and I share a bathroom. But no one else comes, so it is all mine.  I buy chicken, spaghetti and salad makings at the market and fix my own dinner. Had later afternoon wine at a bar, a glass for 80 cents.
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Day 23, Las Herrerias to Triacastle, Spain. Oct. 1

16 miles, 1,300 feet ascent and descent. 7:30 am to 3:30 pm

Begin with a steep grade along a stream.
Emerald green fields, trees along the stream. Cows taken out to graze for the day by an older man or woman. 
Another day of walking with Roberto. “Good companions make short miles.”
His girlfriend is still calling to complain about the cold weather in Italy, where she has moved to study.  But his phone is going on the blink. Hopefully, soon it will quit working altogether.
Over the pass in a mist. Coffee break in an ancient village. Order something on the menu and it turns out to be a wonderful egg sandwich. Two thick slabs of brown bread with scrambled eggs, cooked solid, in the middle. It is delicious, but I can only eat half and take the other half for a snack later.
Stone houses with slate roofs.
Down into an alpine valley with chestnut woods.
Through farmyards guarded by German Shepard dogs. The dogs are not tied and pay no attention to us.
Recognize many pilgrims and meet new ones. Conversations start out the same, Where are you from? When and where did you start? Then when we know each other better, Why are you walking hundreds of miles to Santiago, Spain? 
I will walk 555 miles before I am done. I enjoy walking and like to experience a country and the culture on my two feet.
Hostal is 3 Euros, in a new facility along the stream. The priest runs it and has a special mass to pray for pilgrims at 7 pm, which I attend. I am continually surprised at how touching these are. 
Dinner at a small cafe is 8 Euros for salad, french fries, pork, flan for dessert and a beaker of local wine.  
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Day 22, Cacabelos to Los Herrerias, Sept 30, 2008

17 miles, 1, 500 ft. ascent, 8 am to 3 pm

Gorgeous fall day with blue skies. Leaves are starting to turn to yellows and reds.
Climbing into the Sierra de Ancares mountains.
Women in peasant garb in trucks going out to pick grapes, wearing peasant scarves and dresses.
In the mountains a woman in a traditional black dress, scarf, tanned and weathered face herding big blonde milk cows with bells around their necks. Nice sounds.
Coffee break at 10 am in Villafranca over looking a river with an arched Roman bridge, castle, churches and medieval village. Sit in the sun with my new walking companion, a young Spaniard named Roberto. He walks fast also and we enjoy the day visiting about life, his girlfriend he is trying to forget. But she calls him on his cell phone several times to complain about her new life as a student in Italy. He looks totally miserable. Some young women, beautiful pilgrims, try to engage him in conversation at coffee and he is only polite to them. 
Instead of choosing the route along the bottom of the valley, we go up into the mountain and descend about six miles. Beautiful chestnut forests on top, with some great views. An elderly woman herding her milk cows.
Stay in the tiny village of Las Herrerias. Hostel is 5 Euros. There are only 5 Pilgrims here but one man snores outrageously loud. Fortunately, he went to sleep in another room. Dinner of a mixed salad, three delicious fried fish, probably sardines, cheesecake and wine for 7.5 Euros.