Day 13. Santiago and Fisterra

Not my legs but my emotional muscles are working today. No plans besides relocating to Fisterra (the town at Capo de Finisterre) – by bus. But what an emotional day it’s been.

Camino is just like life in many senses, and yes, I also flinched many times when I heard people say things like this. What’s true though is that the people you meet here are very different, some weirdoes, very many nice, friendly, communicative and interesting. Many you barely say “hi” to once never to see again, some you keep bumping into, sharing beers with and talking to on topics varying from hiking shoes to art, geopolitics and faith. One thing is same for all, though: one time you see them for the last time, maybe knowing it is the last, sometimes without thinking of it.

So this morning is weird. We eat our breakfasts with our backpacks leaning against the table, we’re ready to move on, but also kind of in mourning, thoughts going back to those we probably have seen for the last time. We’re in a café next to the pilgrims’ center and the time of day is ripe with arriving pilgrims. Looking at them is an absolute blast: exhausted and dusty, some barely walking on blistered feet, some obviously seasoned hikers and Camino veterans – everyone looking very much ready to finish the adventure. And those already hurrying back to the Cathedral with their Compostelas in hands and new spring in their step, having received the confirmation of the work completed. It is remarkable and a privilege to witness.

Then miracles start as we reunite with people we thought we’d lost forever. (Insert a metaphor for reuniting in Heaven here) I am being sarcastic to mask emotions, but the feeling is like nothing else. I think of a dude we’ve been meeting literally everywhere and never shared any contacts with. Somehow I feel confident I’d see him again. Not 10 seconds later I see his figure marching into the square – yes, apparently it’s this kind of day and this kind of place. (Pablo, there’s no reason why you’d be reading this, but if you do, man, was it great to see you)

The day was made by these events, but far from finished or done with the miracles. The bus ride to Fisterra – Lidia trying to explain differences between synthetic and analytic languages to an economics professor from Austria – I saved myself by falling asleep and still was bored, but poor Roland will remember the ride, I’m sure. But he’s Austrian and polite.

One of Fisterra’s many attractions is the sunset, so we equip ourselves with supplies from the supermercado and head out, the hike is gentle 4km one way to the Faro de Fisterra. A spectacular light show once we can see the Western horizon, but closer to the sunset time it becomes obvious to anyone, there’s no sunset to see tonight, it’s just grey gloom everywhere. Lidia says a prayer about seeing the sun again, but I say I don’t join in on hopeless projects. And then…

This rock below looking like a resting dog, this one has for sure seen all sorts of sunsets, but for us this one is the most special, ever. Just look at it again:

Magical place, the end of the world for a long time, but not any more. The end of the old life?