The last day

As I started my evening ritual of rolling back up my clothes, putting everything in it's place in my pack I started to feel, I don't want to say impending doom about the day coming up, that's far too dramatic, but almost like I was preparing for war. Whatever tomorrow brought, it would be hard. At first I thought it was the distance, 25km, but no, I've never been good with endings, I never let go very easily and I was just hitting my stride, just starting to gain what The Way had to offer me. Now I think about it, the last day was the beginning of another end in our journey, we got Graham to Santiago, no more distractions now, the next step would be a whole other form of letting go.

The morning started out on our side, we heard of a short cut the night before to pick up the way instead of back tracking just over a kilometer, which we found without difficulty. There was a fairly dense fog hanging over the land, which would later turn into a constant misting, but I wasn't complaining a bit as the blistering heat became a distant memory. The first stop we made was 6k in and it felt like dad and I were just flying, the initial mileage not even registering. Dad suggested we stop and I frankly had to do a double take and think to myself "Really?? Already??" But like I said we had already covered 6k. However the day did start to slow down, we met up with mom at some random place, she always tended to just pop up in our sight lines, but soon our paths diverged a bit. No matter how hard I tried I could never walk slower than my natural pace, so off I went assuming I would meet them for lunch at the next place. Of course when you are trying to coordinate 3 people nothing ever happens how you think it will, so I ended up doing most of the rest of the walk on my own. It was nice. Peaceful. I'm used to being on my own so that never bothered me, although I found I really started to enjoy my own company. Hey, I'm a delight! To be fair, I elected to take Graham that day and walk him into Santiago, so perhaps he was keeping me company a bit.

Finally I decided to stop and wait for my dad to catch up. We started this thing together, we should probably end it together too. We would walk the last 4/5k or so then meet up with mom to arrive at the cathedral all together. Just at the crest of a hill all of a sudden the city revealed itself. I couldn't see the Cathedral, but it was there lost in those twists and turns somewhere, so there I waited. I found a nice spot to sit and Graham and I just hung out until dad showed up. Talk about a charged time in your life. I was just to complete a 250km walk, I had Graham on my back, knowing we were about to scatter his ashes in a couple days, and to top it all off I was about to turn 30 in two days. So there I sat, for a long time, and just thought and felt. I won't lie, most was pretty painful. At some point my walking partner showed up, it was time to start the beginning of the end.

I constantly do this. I imagine how something is going to be and usually it is the exact opposite. Somewhere I head read the population of Santiago was about 70 000, not true! The city is huge! I had some vision of walking into somewhat of a town and all of a sudden, BEHOLD, the cathedral and everything revolving around it... Yeah, I know... Anyway, the final bit of the walk actually stressed me out a bit! We had to navigate around this huge city, with very few markers to indicate the way, going this way and that, stopping at traffic lights and fighting with traffic and business people. NOT my ideal version of ending this journey. Although, when we finally made it, true to European form, enormous monuments just appear out of nowhere, same for the Cathedral, turn a corner and BAM there it is! Along with that is the hundreds of stores cashing St James/Pilgrim/The Way paraphernalia, you know, just like in the old days... Anyway, entering into the square not only for yourself but with a constant steam of others is a huge privilege. Watching their expressions and reactions is a massive insight into what their journey may have been. Not only that, there is an energy of not only ecstatic joy but also of relief, despite all the vendors. For me, I retreated to the shade looking up at this massive edifice and said to myself "So, this is what I've been walking towards". Despite being half covered in scaffolding it really is quite impressive, even if you are not a "churchy" or "cathedraly" person like me. To have been in the square, shedding my boots and hobbling along in my flip flops, seeing the blister scars on other peoples feet, to know I have been part of something so much bigger than myself really is humbling. I feel an odd kinship to these people, to have shared our own defeats, failures and successes in the pursuit of a common goal, wow. I didn't know it at the time but I would experience the same emotion when we went to the Pilgrims mass the next day. I may not be a specifically religious person but that doesn't mean I can't appreciate it, and it was very heartening to see hundreds of people all in the same place for the same reason, appreciation, recognition of the experience.

Once we had taken in our fill we, of course, drank some sangria then headed to the apartment we had rented for the next 2 days. It was beautifully Ikea in all it's glory! Most importantly it was furnished with a bowl of chocolates and leftover ice cream bars from the previous renters, score! Dinner was lovely, the wine was lovely, but the whole night still seemed a bit surreal, I didn't have to set my alarm for the next day to get up and walk, it was over...

I think perhaps I will end my posts with the End of the World, Fisterra. It seemed only too appropriate to spend part of my 30th birthday at the end of the world with the mental state I was in. Lets just say I didn't take turning 30 well. At all. Even though the endpoint of Finisterre was slightly overrun with guides and tour buses, filled with people who had nothing to do with nor any idea of what a pilgrimage was, it still managed to maintain a sacred place. There are spots all over where pilgrims burn bits of clothing/boots/mementos they have carried from the beginning, so signify the end of their journey, to sit and reflect. So there I sat, on a rock at the end of the world. I sat for a very long time. So marking the close of one journey.