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Trip Start May 29, 2005 Previous
Entry Trip End Jul 29, 2005

  Santiago de Compostela, Spain
Saturday, July 23, 2005

We arrived in Santiago around 10.00am after a night at Monte de Gozo from where one could (in medieval times), on a clear day, see the spires of Santiago Cathedral. We didnīt actually see any spires yesterday and I was way too tired to go yomping around looking for any cathedral spires - decided I would get my fill of looking at said spires once I got here - especially as we got 6 days in town. We duly found the pilgrim office and presented our credentials and got the certificate of pilgrimage. It is all in Latin, the universal language of the church - or at least until the church decided to go all accessible and devolve into native languages. Angela is Angelam in Latin and the guy in the office didnīt even try to Latinise "Shuet-Kei" - pah!

We attended 12.00 mass - all in Spanish with the odd Latin "Gloria" and "Alleluia". They read out how many pilgrims from which countries have come from where and Angela and I will get counted tomorrow so we plan to go to mass again to hear it. It was rather an odd affair - hordes of people leaping around taking photos - all a bit disconcerting and off-putting actually - and at the end they swung the great censer - this huge incense burner that hung on a rope from the ceiling and required a team of eight men to swing it across the length of the transcept. When they were done, everyone burst out into spontaneous applause. Then we filed up to see the statue of St James as pilgrim, give him a hug and inspect the silver casket containing his mortal remains. We didnīt bother headbutting the statue of Master Matteo, the queue was way too long but we might pitch up early tommorrow and check it out then.

Actually being here is a bit startling - I canīt quite believe we are here - I am having trouble with the notion that we really walked 749km and yet we must have done because we are here and we were in Roncevalles nearly two months ago. I am looking forward to going home and seeing everyone and being able to speak English to everyone (except parents of course, to whom I shall be speaking Chinese). But a large part of me wishes the journey werenīt over and I am really sad that we donīt have the tiime to walk to Finisterre and see the sun going down into the Atlantic. Of course, we can come back next year and do the Camino Ingles from A Coruna (where Sir John Moore died and the Spanish Armada set sail for merrie England) and then walk to Finisterre - a nice 189km trip but itīs such a shame that we canīt continue our walk from east to uttermost west. I have so much respect and admiration and envy for all those people from France, from Germany, from Italy and the Netherlands that we met on the way who walked from their front door to Santiago. What an incredible achievement and privilege. The next time I do this (maybe with my sister, she being in serious need of salvation anī all), I am definitely going to try and brush up my French and really get a lot more Spanish grammar and vocab so I can talk to more people. I have been really touched by the panache and charm with which people from various countries are able to speak English and am ashamed that I cannot offer them the courtesy of an address in their language.

What are my overwhelming impressions from this trip?

1) Water is a precious thing and we are damned lucky to have a ready supply of clean, safe water to drink.
2) How few material possessions one actually needs.
3) The miracle of the camino in the way it provides shelter and food when they are needed.
4) The solitude of daily walking is glorious but one needs companionship at dayīs end - why oh why donīt we speak more languages.
5) The commonality of Europe with shared history, faith and language structures. The various roads from various countries to Santiago seem to form the warp threads on which Europe hangs.

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