To Santiago and the End of the Camino. Days 22-34.

At Leon, we fell behind our "cohort", the group of walkers from around the world who stopped at the same places we did and started with us each morning.  They moved on ahead of us one day's march. My days went like this: get up in the morning, put on fresh bandages, blister pads, moleskin or whatever was needed on my feet, lubricate them with lanolin to prevent chafing, dress, put on boots, eat and hit the trail. We would walk for about six hours each day, appreciating the weather, scenery, smells and tastes of the places we walked through, and the people we  met.  Arriving at the hotel, I'd take a hot bath, launder todays' trail clothes in the sink, check email, and go out for a look around and dinner.  Off to bed, then repeat.  It was marvelous!

This is what I wanted to do with my boots sometimes.
You can enlarge any photo by clicking on it.

In Astorga, I visited the Archbishop's Palace, now a museum,
 designed by Antonio Gaudi. What an amazing building!

The cathedral in Astorga by night.  The Spanish love the evenings,
 and are coming to dinner at the time when I am going to bed!

We went out for a dinner of typical Astorgan feast of stew made from eleven kinds of meat,
chickpeas, vegetables, and rich broth, at a famous restaurant called "La Peseta".

Back on the trail, we walk again through vineyards and wheatfields
 with the mountains of Asturia in the background

An ancient "cruciero" marks the Camino.

Here is Virginio jousting at the site of a famous medieval jousting pageant.

ON the trail, our guide Giulio prepared the most delicious picnics for us.
 We were the envy of all. One day I causually mentioned to him that I missed eating spinach and avocados,
and the next day he served them at this picnic. We all gobbled it up!!

The long and winding road.

A centuries old doorway adorned with autumn grape vines.

The trail climbed steeply, and was sometimes no more than a rocky arroyo.
 It wound though oak , chestnut and piney woods.

The camino leads through tiny mediaeval villages, each with it's own church.

My trail buddy Lyn from Australia, enjoying the day.

Here the trail climbed up shale bedrock. Watch your step!

Spanish villages are always full of flowers.

A local camino store, with water gourds, walking sticks and scallop shells. Everything we need.

Heading out of town.

Along the trail, pilgrims had inserted sticks into a fence to make crosses.
It went on for a mile.

At the ruined village of Foncebadon, we hiked up in early morning mist to La Cruz de Ferro,
the Iron Cross. Here you lay down the stone you carried from your home, and make an intention for your Camino.
I brought shells from Cocoa Beach, and a stone from the trail.

We passed this refugio, owned and operated by a modern day Templar Knight,
complete with hauberk and mail.  Like Don Quixote, only he has pals who are knights too!

The mist lifted for a moment to reveal lovely mountain views.

Trees changing colors as up we climb.

The mist closes in on this mystical stage of the journey.

Climbing up through the fragrant piney woods.

A tiny, cheerful  albergue with cafe, in the village of Acebo

The root of a long-dead chestnut tree has been carved and decorated.

Molinaseca, with it's beautiful Roman bridge and lively Sunday atmosphere.

So pretty we decided to have lunch here, overlooking the river and Roman Bridge.

My trail pals Lilian, Betty and Lyn.

 Fermented dried hams called Jamon Iberica and local sausages hanging.
The log is a segment of cork oak. from which wine corks are made.

Fresh bread for sale.

Little Alfonso and his joyful grandma encouraging him to be a pilgrim too.

The season is growing late.

The crusader castle at Ponferrada.  The crenellation on the battlements are not original,
and have been reconstructed with a bit too much touristic imagination.

Ponferrada's Peregrino statue.  A nice town.

Counting down the kilometers

Old vines in the Bierzo grape growning region.  We walked through acres and acres of them,
stopping to snack on bunches left behind by the pickers.

Autumn beauty, as it begins to rain again.

More vines changing colors with the season.

And the camino goes ever onward.  Ultreia!

We are almost at the hotel, with sore and tired feet ready to soak in the bath.

Leaving in the early morning twilight.

Kitten on the roof.

Walking through the enchanted forest.

Our hotel Parasiso del Bierzo, near Herreria.

Walking out through sleepy pastures.

The rainy path through the chestnut forest, moss and ferns everywhere.

Entering Galicia at last, the region of Santiago.

Climbing to the high mountain pass, we enter O Cebereiro in a foggy mist.
It felt very ancient and mystical.

This building predates the Romans, and is of Celtic origin. Living space on the right,
and animals were housed on the left. The people were warmed by the
 animals and the animals were protected from wolves.

The old romanesque church at O Cebreiro

We got pretty wet, but it was a happy day indeed.

This is a Horreo, a storage building which kept food stores well ventilated
(so it didn't mold) and protected from rodents.  Clever.

Rain on the trail.

My pilgrim shadow.

A gigantic ancient chestnut tree in a centuries old farm village.
 It still bears nuts.

On we go.

We are slowly descending toward Santiago and the sea.

Through Entwood.

The huge monastry at Samos, with only eight monks.

Guilio and Virginio collected wild porcini mushrooms, and made
 a delicious risoto for us for lunch the next day.

Yellow arrows mark our way.

Santiago (Saint James) appears to urge us on.

The medieval foundations of Portomarin were flooded by a dam project under Franco, and can still be seen
when the reservoir is low. It must have been a very picturesque place.

Galicia is famous for it's seafood, and octopus in particular. We enjoyed a great lunch
of "pulpo gallego" (tender boiled octopus seasoned with pimiento), with salad, wine and fresh bread.

Lyn and me crossing a stream on abridge of giant stones.

Rush hour on the Camino.  Much is written about the "wild" dogs on the camino; we encountered
only working dogs...cattle and sheep herding dogs with a job to do.

We stopped for lunch at a hippy cafe owned by a friend of Virginio's. What a happy and interesting place. We ate sandwiches of fresh bread, queso de Arzua ( a delicious soft cheese like brie, with a mild flavor) and fresh sliced tomato.  And served with a smile.

We were given a glass of Orujo de Hierbas, the local liqueur flavored with herbs like anise and chamomile.

Entering Santiago.  It was a moving moment.  Here is my first view of our destination, the Cathedral de Santiago.

It is a romanesque cathredral which had a baroque facade added.

This is how I felt.

Outside in the square, we were united once again with many friends from along the way. Here is Nicolas from Uruguay, whom we met and walked with in the foggy mist of O Cebreiro when he was lost and anxious.  

My special pals Guilio and Virginio, our guides, mentors and friends

Pablo the bagpiper, playing his Galician pipes.
We had a nice chat and he played "Scotland the Brave " for me!

Before the pilgrim's mass , with Betty and Lyn, my trail buddies.

At mass with Michael and Karin, fellow peregrinos from PA.

Bob from Texas...

The men who raise and swing the Botafumiero, the huge silver censor
filled with hot coals and frankincense.

Under the chandelier in the Cathedral

At long last, we came to the sea at Finesterre. It was blowing a strong gale and was for me a
spiritual moment at the end of my Camino,  communing with the wind and waves at the end of the world.

It is hard to describe the feeling of having completed the Camino. I wanted to just turn around and trek back to Roncesvalles and over the mountains to Saint Jean Port a Pied, but of course it was not an option.  The spiritual agenda I had set for myself had been "completed" early on, and the light had shown brightly on other, more difficult facets of my being. I had made good friends, and lost them as everyone scattered to the four winds and returned home.  I found joy and sadness, dreams, illusion and reality, endurance and acceptance on this pilgrim's walk.  Now begins the next pilgrimage, the one which continues and in which I hope to use these insights to open my life.  There will steep ascents, fog, and sunny meadows still ahead.

Buen Camino.



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