We finish the Camino de Santiago de Compostela

  Santiago de Compostela, Spain
Wednesday, May 25, 2005

Saturday 21st May Sarria - Portomarin
Start out about 7am in light rain, up and over the hill in town, past the Magdalene Convent, down to the Ponte Aspera, or Rough Bridge, across the flats to the railway, and along it to the crossing. The railway is broad gauge, and in pretty good condition. Here a lot of other pilgrims pass us as we get out of our rain gear and warm tops for the steep pull through chestnut and oak woods to the high ground, with broad views of hilltops, fields and small hamlets. It is pretty country and very green. We keep meeting people whom Jerry and Sharon have walked with, and a few we have developed a nodding acquaintance with in the short time we have been on the road. We have coffee and the inevitable ham and cheese bocadilla, take photos of a highly graffitied 100 km post after the official signpost saying 99.5 to Santiago, then another possible 100 km post. We pass the village of the blacksmiths, without any sign of current industry, but photo an exceedingly rudimentary 3 wheel mowing machine, and see big-wheeled, powerful farm tractors of both known and mystery makes. We hit the main road across the lake from Portomarin, and cross the river on a modern bridge (the original stone Roman one has gone, but the stone arch has been moved to higher ground when the river was dammed to complete the Belesar reservoir in 1962 ). Jerry has been making good time for personal reasons, and tries a short detour to use service station servicio, but they are typically not obliging, so have a very quick walk up the steep steps to the reassembled core of the old town, which now has a population of 2,000. Book into a 4O-bed dorm in the peregrino Albergue (well, we do want to experience the REAL camino, don't we?). Most of the double bunk beds are pushed together, which suits us fine as we get a nice double-bed, albeit on the top of another couple, who were already bunked down under blankets when we arrived, as we have the top bunk.

This configuration is not so popular with the young single girls, who can find themselves sleeping in very close proximity to a stranger. We talk to Samantha, a 23 year-old from Sydney, and studying in Barcelona, who is in just this situation. All go out for lunch (didn't stop for lunch, as today was only a short 23km stroll).
When we come out from lunch, there is a wedding at the 12th century Romanesque church of San Nicolas. As we've nothing better to do, decide we will wait to see the bride, but this takes forever. The guests all come out of the church, and even they get restless waiting. Some pass the time blowing gas-operated horns. The band has a couple of bagpipe players, showing the Celtic traditions of the area.
Have a surprisingly good night's sleep. There is enough snoring coming from so many different directions that it becomes almost background music, or a barnyard symphony.
Walking on Camino 23kms, plus around town
Sun 22nd May - Portomarin-Palas de Rei
Had planned on getting up at 6.30am, but from 5.30 there is non-stop movement in the room, so decide we may as well get up, and start walking before 7am. Samantha is walking with us today. Back down the hill, and back over the river Torres, where it enters the reservoir, at a footbridge. Now make our way through dense woodland for 2kms around St Anthony's Heights, to join the main road at Fabrica Ceramica, where, strangely enough, there is a large, operating brick and tile factory. Finally stop for breakfast at Hospital de la Cruz, nearly 12kms after we started walking. This is the last time we see Sharon and Samantha, until we reach our night's accommodation, as they go ahead, while we stumble on.
Weather is looking ominous, and we stop to put our raincoats on around Sierra Ligonde, the highest point of the day's walk. After walking through Ligonde, which was a significant medieval stop, and which has a church dedicated to Santiago and a Romanesque porch,


we cross the Rio Ligonde, where we have a short stop for a drink. A lot of these river crossings have hand washing facilities, with a raised rectangular tank up to 3 metres square by 1 deep, with inward sloping tops on the walls to form washing boards, and walkways around them so that the washing boards are at waist height. Most of them have roofs, and piped water supply from upstream weirs.
Continue on, and on, and on, passing 17th century wayside cross. Stop under a tree with a couple of old locals who are holding forth at length, possibly about peregrinos who don't know enough to stay under a tree until the rain passes, during the worst of a storm. Convince Jerry to have a rest and something to eat at Brea, where we have the best ham and cheese bocadillo of our trip (these are the mainstay of our lunches, and some can be VERY ordinary). Slightly recovered, we continue on to Palas de Rei albergue (26 kms from our morning start) where we find Sharon has been waiting for 3/4 of an hour (it is now 1.30pm). The 60-bed hostel has only been open for half an hour, and still has vacancies, so we have made good time, even with a couple of breaks. Are amazed when we are shown to a 4-bed room, with its own bathroom, including bath. Earlier arrivals had been given the large dorms. Was it our age or what? Sharon and Jerry shower, wash then go out for a meal. Unfortunately the hot water has run out, and doesn't heat up again as expected, so we miss having a hot shower. Settle for a sleep. The others return for a sleep, and we go out to explore the town. Get caught in a VERY heavy downpour, which we sit out, huddled against a wall under umbrellas. Spend a fair bit of time in a bar, sitting on a drink, looking out at the rain while we did some diary.
Later, back to same bar for dinner, downstairs. It is difficult to know how early one can dine without being rude, but 8 PM seems to be the earliest. After a restless start to the night, Dianne decides to take a sleeping tablet, ensuring a fairly good night's sleep.
Walking on track 26kms, plus around town.
Mon 23rd May -Palas de Rei-Ribadiso-Arzua
On the road before 7am.. No sign of last night's rain - sky is clear, with some fog in the valleys.
Stop around Casanova (after only about 6.5kms) for breakfast as Sharon's shoulder is hurting, and we're only too happy to stop at any time. Have good tostadas, along with quite a few other travellers, at the cafe run by the "Dos Alemagnes". See Madame run up the street to the highway, and return with more bread, apparently from a passing panaderia van.
Cross the state border into A Coruna at Cornixa (but don't see the auto scrap yard our guide gives as a reference point).
At Cornixa we join the N-547 briefly before picking up the stone paved pathway into Lobreiro (field of hares). Cross the medieval Magdalena Bridge over the rio Seco into Disicabo. Pass an industrial estate then on through woodland to Pont Velha, a medieval bridge over the rio Furelos, which has a weir right at the bridge, and is very pretty,


and into Furelos with the church of San Juan.
Stop for drink at cafe on way into Melide, an administrative town with a population of 8,000. Modern on the outskirts, but the old section has narrow winding streets, which remind Murray of Majorca. Decide against detouring to yet another church.
The way is now mostly by path that winds through shaded forest, the Oak and Chestnut now increasingly giving way to Eucalyptus and pine. We cross LOTS of river valleys, with consequently LOTS of up and down. By the time we find a cafe on the steep hill into Ribadiso, we're finding it very hard to keep walking (we've done 26.5 kms at this stage). Have lunch at the very friendly cafe, and find enough energy to walk another 3 kms into Arzua, passing the Ribadiso Albergue on the way, where we see Samantha basking in the sun by the river, along with a big group of young Spaniards.
Book into the Arzua hostel, a traditional stacked stone building, attached to a church right in the centre of town. The hostel has been refurbished, and is quite comfortable. We have the choice of two different 2-bed-wide top bunks in a room with 36 people, or two single-bed wide double bunks in the middle of the room, with a row of single double-bunks on either side in another room. We decide that these have too many opportunites for snorers, so take one of the other two-bed wide top bunks, which is in a corner, thus lowering the chance of being surrounded by snorers. Jerry and Sharon don't like top bunks, so settle for the two bottom bunks in the other room. They later regret this as they have very little sleep due to some bad snorers.
Have a short rest, then out to have a drink, then walk around town. See a couple of internet places, but they, like the rest of the town, appear to be closed for the normal, very-long siesta, so we leave it till later, at the Venus Cafe.
After dinner at the Venus, which we revert to after being gazumped in the preferred cafe by a large tour group, we get back to the hostel about 10pm. We go to bring in our washing from around the back of the albergue, where there is a very loud group of Spaniards drinking. This is unusual as most people are too exhausted at the end of the day to do anything more than have a quiet drink with dinner, then collapse into bed.
When we are woken about midnight, and get up to go to the toilets, find that they had EVEN MORE energy than we thought, judging by the noises coming from the locked toilets. Possibly someone from the same group is pinged going through Jerry's clothes about the same time.
Walking on track 29. 4kms, plus around town.
Tues 24th May -Arzua-Arca do Pino-Labacolla
Both couples meet in the hallway before 6am. Both have independently decided there is no possibility of any more sleep, as most of the 36 people in our room are up and packing. Leave albergue before 7am, and walk down through backstreets of town, over the stream and into Oak woods. Cross the main road, and pass through various hamlets. Were going to stop for breakfast at Salceda (11 kms after starting), but were seduced (unfortunately) shortly before this by a local going in the opposite direction, who told us the "segunda cafe" was the place to be. After stopping there, and finding Madame didn't have anything we wanted (including fresh bread) we ordered what turned out to be good fried eggs, and VERY oily (the oil was red) chorizo (sausage), which continued to repeat on us during the morning.
After Salceda we enter a woodland path, where there is a monument with a pair of bronze sandals and a plaque, to Guillermo Watt, a 69 year old pilgrim who died here in 1993, only a day away from the end of the walk.


Continue on paths in eucalyptus forests, crossing the main road a number of times. Take the detour that avoids the Arca albergue which is on the main road, and is the normal stopping spot, as we want to have a short final day so that we are in time for the Peregrino mass at 12 o'clock. Stop at Pedrouzo for a drink, then continue through the eucalypts to Amenal, where we'd planned to have lunch (and 23 kms from our day's start). Unfortunately it turns out to be a few houses on the main road, with no bars or shops whatsoever. As all pretty weary and hot by now, we end up stopping in the shade in a deep cutting, in the middle of nowhere to eat what we have - some peanuts and a couple of muesli bars. As soon as we lay down on the path, we are disturbed by two groups of bikers.


Continue in hot, sunny conditions, along the side, and round the end of the runway of Santiago's airport, with the path following, and then crossing, a major road intersection, still with no sign of food. Finally come to the small village of San Paio, where there is a smart-looking restaurant with some locals, and a LARGE group of Spanish walkers, and Samantha with them. The restaurant's bread supplies are exhausted and we have quite a long wait while they serve the other group, then bring in some more supplies.
Finally arrive at Labacolla, where the prospects look grim until we find a good hotel from Jerry's guide book. Looks quite expensive, with a fancy seafood restaurant and a bus-load of German tourists staying there, but are pleasantly surprised to find we can have a double room for 38 Euros. Have a short sleep and hot shower, then have a walk around town, looking at the near-derelict San Roca chapel, so we don't have to detour in the morning. Have a drink at the bar while we wait for the restaurant to open, just after 8.30pm. Unfortunately the late-eating habit of the Spaniards isn't very convenient for Peregrinos who are usually awake BEFORE the sun rises!
After a good meal of prawns "a la plancha" for Dianne, and Murray's normal "menu del dia", we retire to bed, but don't end up getting to sleep till after midnight.
Walking on track 29.6kms, plus around town
Wed 25th May - Labacolla-Santiago de Compostela
As we only have 10kms to walk today, and don't have to be in Santiago till midday, we give ourselves a sleep-in, and don't meet downstairs till 8am.
Have a steep uphill climb into San Marcos, then a short path to Mount Gozo, the mount of joy, where pilgrims get their first view of the cathedral towers at Santiago. Take photos of the monument,


walk down past the enormous Monte Gozo Albergue, and across the river and main railway into town, where we stop for coffee, and almost lose Jerry down a tricky flight of stairs in sight of the finish. We are now in fairly familiar territory, but it is still a fair way through the streets to the cathedral, and are pretty beat when we arrive.
At the cathedral, we do the required pilgrim actions of putting the hands in the jesse tree, head banging the Saint, hugging the Apostle, viewing the casket holding the relics of St James, and sitting through the mid-day "pilgrim's mass"
Normally the mass could be expected to be dead boring, but the nun leading the singing had an unbelievably good voice, and the swinging of the large golden botafumeiro was a circus act extraordinaire.
The golden botafumeiro looks like the America's cup, but one and a half metres high, half a metre wide, and weighing 100 kg.


It hangs on a 30-metre rope from a complicated multi-drum windlass mounted high in the dome of the cathedral The other end of the rope is split into separate tails so half a dozen men can pull on it at once. After they load and light it, they launch it up into the air about 6 metres and get it swinging. They keep pulling and releasing the rope until the botafumeiro is swinging through 180 degrees, right up until it is almost touching the roof of the two side wings of the church. On the way down, it picks up a lot of speed, and /is quite frightening going past only a couple of metres off the deck, with the flame burning fiercely from the wind, and smoke pouring out behind it.
At the end of the "performance", the botafumeiro is slowed down until a catcher can catch it, and swing it to a stop. It is hard to know why the big crowd didn't break out in applause, but I guess it is a church, after all.
After mass, we proceeded to the Office where they issue the certificates of completion, or "compostelas", filled in our forms, not trying to be too exact regarding motivation, and the complication of the short lift on the first day. Took photos of four of us with our certificates.


We celebrated with a lunch, which should have been at the recommended Manolos, but ended up at a quaint little local cafe, with a quaint hostess who conned MP into the worst knuckle, hip and lip stew on record, and others into stale bocadillas at record prices, before checking into our hotel for a shower and a big wash.
After a sleep, we walked the town, had drinks at Jerry and Sharon's fancy Parador, Hotel des Reyes Catolicos.


Checked out the hotel, then later internetted. Fair night's sleep, but the locals were pretty active late in the night, or early in the morning
Walking on track 10kms, plus around town.
Thurs 26th May - Santiago de Compostela
Meet at the Hotel des Reyes Catolicos, and go into the cathedral for a second shot of mass, but a lot less heavy hitters at the altar, and no botafmeiro, and no mention of the peregrinos who started from either St Jean Pied de Porte, or O Cebriero. Retire disillusioned, but at least the singing nun was there, and we recorded her on the Palm Pilot. We walk through interesting streets full of restaurants on the same level as the Cathedral square. Lots of live fish and crabs, big pulpos on display, at a price. Internet, then to the bus station via the market, which is starting to close, but still has weird fish such as monkfish on display. DP buys some soft but tasty cherries, and we eat them on the way to the bus station by a new, lower route.
We book tickets for Finisterre in the morning, JL and MP have a bocodilla and coffee at the bus station, and we walk back to the old city over the top of the hill, and down by interesting streets to the old city. Walk around looking at the shops, see very cheap Mephisto shoes, but the shop is not open. Have cocktails at the Hotel, then we walk down to the lower town, which is old and interesting for a while before becoming typical modern European. A long walk up the hill brings us back to the top of town where we found an internet cafe with USB facilities, and we internet till late but the connection is pretty slow, and we can only upload photos, and no time to update the Travelpod blog.
Have a good late night menu del noche at Manolo's at 11pm. DP finds eggs vinaigrette very tasty indeed. There is a very noisy and drunk crowd downstairs, possibly students. We have a fairly late start in the morning, so leave packing till then.
Walking around town 15 kms
Fri 27th May -Santiago-Finisterre-La Coruna
Buy sticky pasteries and barras artesanal bread on the way to the hotel, and sit outside and eat waiting for Jerry and Sharon. The 9.10 taxi turns up on time, and we get to the bus in plenty of time, but still cut it fine with banyo visit. DP uses her 3rd world bus catching skills to get us the four front seats. The bus is reasonably full, mainly with pilgrims going all the way to throw their symbolic shells into the sea.
The terrain is generally similar to what we have covered, but with higher, steeper hills, and more eucalypt plantations. The architecture changes with the available building rock, and there seems to be more rendered buildings, and rooves are tile, rather than slate. The granaries, which are long, narrow sheds, with steep rooves and ventilated side walls, are elevated on slim stone pillars, with stone discs on to to discourage rats. MP has to use his fractured Spanish to request a banyo stop for Jerry, but it is a long time coming, and he has to make use of the facilities in the emergency ward of the hospital when we stop at a bus depot in Cee. Emergency indeed.
Cee is actually on the sea, on a long inlet, and we see fishing boats, and marine industry. The road here is under construction, and the countryside is heath and scrub, indicating the sea is not far away.
From Cee to Fisterre (sic) we see higher hills, and the arm of the ocean which runs up past it, and stop at a bus stand in view of the port.
We have been debating how we get the 3.6 km to the cape, but Jerry and Sharon run into an old friend from the early stage of their walk, the Dutch woman who likes the window open in all weather, and she convinces them that they should walk it. There is no obvious place to leave our bags, so we get into towing mode, and go with them. The weather is threatening, so we rig the bag for rain, put on our raincoats and head off into the wind, uphill, on cobbled streets. All of these conditions make for hard trucking, so we are hot and sweaty in no time. Away from the town, the surface improves, but it is still a long 3.5km haul uphill.
The hill drops steeply from the road to the rocky shore, and there are a lot of wildflowers, so it is quite a pretty walk. The scenery varies, depending on the fog, and one moment we have views across the bay to middle ground rocks and steep hills on the far side, the next, we can barely see the water's edge. A number of fishing boats are heading out to sea, and it doesn't look too comfortable.
Toward the end of the climb, DP talks to a German who is looking for company, as he is sick of his 70 year old companion, and he gallantly offers to tow her bag. Later he takes our photo to show his wife that old farts can travel adventurously.
We are busting for a drink of coffee, but find there is none at the first bar, only at the refugio higher up, so we head for the point so Jerry and Sharon can jettison their shells. The fog has rolled in, so the automated compressed air foghorns have kicked in. There are two, facing at right angles, about 5 metres up on the compressor house, and the noise is unbelievable up close. Definitely in the ear-shattering category, but no warning signs. Jerry is tying a big rock onto his shell for longer throwing range, but has to stop work every 50 seconds to put fingers in the ears. Finishes and heads off down the point to find a suitable launching pad. We take the bags back a safe distance and wait, while recording the sound on the palm pilot. Not all that successful, as the sound just about rattles the screws out of it.
MP walks down to take photos, then we climb up to the refugio for a very welcome breakfast of coffee, good bocadillas and coke.
The walk back, downhill was a lot easier, and we got back to town in plenty of time to settle down on the terrace of a bar before the weather drove us back against the wall.
MP is out in plenty of time for the bus, but the others lag, but doesn't make much difference, as DP still gets the front seats, but there is a problem with payment, as the driver won't take the money, but assures us that "este autobus" is going to la Coruna. It turns out that most of the passengers are going to Santiago, and must change at Baio. Has to change the ticket machine so we can pay our money. Costs E10.25 each to get to Fisterra, E10.65 to la Coruna.
For some reason, possibly weather, the route we retraced via Cee looked better than on the way out. Quite a nice coastline, beaches and port. At Cee, scene of JL's emergencia, there was a problem with too many passengers, and a lot of phone calls were required to produce another bus. Those forced to wait seemed pretty relaxed, must be used to it. At no stage did anyone travel standing. Hard to imagine in the less "civilized" 3rd world!
Lost most of the passengers at the changeover in Baio, and travelled on new road, sometimes motorways, sometimes through villages, to La Coruna.