The End of the World x 2

The walk to Fisterra hurt! Even though the walk itself threw up many postcard type moments, it also physically spat you out. 

A visit to Fisterra is incomplete without a trek to Faro Fisterra, the so called end of the world.  This is where the famous 0.00km marker sits and tradition states, that pilgrims from the Frances Camino discard their shell and burn their clothing to signify purity and new beginnings.  Such a practice is now out-lawed, but a few hearty souls still try to sneak in a pilgrim BBQ.

The hike to Faro Fisterra was accompanied by a sky filled with stars, a mist that crept over the cliff tops and carpeted the path. The goal was to reach Faro as the sun rose and watch the dawn wash across the ocean.  It was on the rocks that we waited, silhouetted by the hue of the lighthouse beacon for the awakening of the day.  Brad had came prepared and as the full glory of the dawn erupted, he pulled out a beer, cracked it to salute the morn.  A celebration lunch of Gambones (prawns fried in garlic, olive oil and rock-salt) and super Grande gin & tonic topped off a great day.

The end but not quite. From Fisterra, the plan had been to walk the 28km to Muxia, however; Lea, who had begun the adventure with a canter, was reduced to a hobble. It was decided to catch the bus for the last stretch. A tough choice at the time, but the right one in hindsight.  Muxia, is also known as the end of the world, however; unlike Fisterra with its flashy tourist trappings, Muxia is a sleepy town in a laid back kind of way.  The Atlantic Ocean smashes into this simple fishing village, where the Virgin of the Boat (Sanctuary of Virxe da Barca) along with Monte Corpino lovingly protect the local  community.

Muxia provided us with a time of reflection.  We broke bread, drank wine, watched the colour of the ocean change from aquamarine to shades of grey and relaxed as the bleeding sun leeched across the horizon.

 As we soaked up the ambience, we realised that this is not the end but a merely Camino chapter.

  The Portuguese way is calling!

Camino de fisterra!

The streets of Santiago seemed to be a place of isolation as we began our way to Fisterra. Our poles echoed across the Plaza do Obradorio, which many hours before had been a place of jubilation, as pilgrims converged to celebrate the end of their journey.   Leaving town, we headed into a forest where our torch beams ensured us of a clear path.  At one stage we decided to turn off our head-torches to experience the total darkness; all vision was lost, as we stood and savoured the moment.

We traversed through Ponte Sarela and Sarlea de Abaixo then  stopped and witnessed the morning light touch the Cathedral in the  far off distance.  Our journey took us through ancient forests and hamlets, so rustic that even dilapidated houses were picture worthy.  The magic of tranquility engulfed us and it felt like we were the only people on the way.  A rest stop at Ponte Maceria saw us scramble across rocks to lounge near the Rio Tambre.  It is here that legend says  'As the disciples of St James fled the Romans, divine intervention collapsed the centre span of the bridge, stranding the Romans on the other side'.

It was at Negreria, that we began to build the sense of community that was missing in our previous section of the Camino.  Jumping in at Ponferreda, felt like being an intruder in a reality TV show, here however, everyone started the journey at the same place.

A blanket of fog greeted us as we emerged from the Albergue and  passed through the walled gate of Negreria to make our way to Zas. It made for a  difficult and dangerous trek as a good stretch was roadside.  Car headlights streamed towards us and we hoped that the beam of our head torch illuminated enough so that we were visable. The pea soup mist took us  through the hamlets of O Rapote and A Pena and Pixae.  Our morning tea stop saw Brad consume a bocadillo the size of his head; carbed up he was rearing to tackle the rest of the day. Our path was halted outside Maronas as a herd of cows stared, strolled and flashed the occasional brown eye whilst littering the path with their waste.  They seemed to smile knowingly at us as we zig zagged  our way through cow pat offerings and  made our way to Santa Marina to rest overnight.

Raging rivers flowed in the foreground as we made our way towards Logoso, a village owned by one family and is famous for a balancing rock.  (We discovered that this phenomena was not created by mother nature but a bulldozer and crane). Horreos scattered the landscape surrounding the hamlets of Lamelas, Lago and Corzon.  These narrow, grainstores are used to protect, hold and ripen all types of grain, are prominent in the Galicia region.  It was along this trek that we saw pilgrims camped out, their tent flapping in the wind and a huge buen Camino greeted us as we passed.  

We attempted to balance our walking distance so that our bodies were not fatigued and manage injuries.  However, the Finisterre - Muxia Camino had a couple of big 30km plus days which slammed hard. As we started the 31km walk into Fisterra in the early morn, darkness covered the landscape and for the first time stars dance as we walked through forests of eucalyptus trees that spawn their unique aroma, reminiscent of home. The great divide splits the Camino into two: Fisterra and Muxia; we turned toward Fisterra! A sunrise  immersed us in its glory and we caught our first glimpse of the Atlantic  Ocean  on our way down to Cee.   Following the coast line to Corcubion, Iglesias de San Marcos erupts from the streetscape and marinas line the coastline.  The last 5km was tough as we walked on man made cobble stones that played havoc with our feet. 8 hours after we left Logoso,  we stumbled into Fisterra, beaten and fatigued.  With just enough energy left we grabbed our 'Fisterrana' and made our way to our accommodation.  The end of the world could wait. It wasn't  going anywhere nor were we.

The Awakening!

The whispers ebb away at the subconscious, a glimpse of torch light dance across closed eyelids and the rustle of bags being repacked becomes the chorus of the Camino awakening. A night in an albergue, Deja Vu!

It is from Ponferrada that our feet first hit the Camino trail and romantic memories from our last sojourn filter back.  Excitedly, we diligently watch out for arrows and shells, as we try to shake the jet-lag.  We pass through Compostilla Iglesia Santa Maria, where street art frames the portico; onto the sleepy hamlet of Fuentus Nuevas, until we reach Cacabelos, where we sleep the night in the grounds of the Capilla de Las Augustia XVII.  A  celebration is had, as we sit by the river, making toasts with vino tinto to the freedom of the Camino!

Darkness and rain greet us as we set out from Cacabelos to God knows where.  The first 2kms sees us illuminated by our headtorches as we follow the way out of town.  A crackling hum of power lines guided us through vineyards, as early morning farmers, waved purple stained hands in greeting.  Our way took us through Villafranco del Biezo, where churches dominate the skyline and an 8.50 Euro stick of deodorant awaits to be purchased. Some may see the correlation here! Unfortunately, we missed the scenic alternative route and instead, were thrown  onto a main arterial road that heaves fumes and spits up asphalt. On to the hamlet of Trabadelo, where serendipity takes control and we stop at Casa Susi.  We learn of a love story between our hosts, Susi and Fermon and how the Camino is intertwined with fate. We share a communal meal, stories and experiences over a couple of bottles  local of vinos.  Laughter fills the Casa and we go to bed knowing that the Camino has once  again provided a day of memories.

We awake  next morn with the knowledge that our day ahead will involve conquering the highest peak on the way of St James - O'Cebreiro.  To reach this beast of a peak, we pass through hamlets of Abasement, Ruitelan, La Faba and Launa de Cada, which blur into one and seem to have the same picturesque postcard setting of ramshakle houses, balconies in bloom, undulating hills, combined with a distinct aroma of cow dung.
 

The trek up to the peak was a brut- a gut busting event.  Our poles propped and propelled us forward, little by little as  the lactic acid made our legs buckle, and the sweat cascaded from every pore.  They do say 'no pain, no gain' and this is true of the El Camino.  Arriving at the summit of O'Cebrerio and looking out across the plateau, we have a clear understanding of  the meaning of such a saying.

Onward to Tricastela, and our thoughts move to Sarria and Santiago  de Compostella.  Our plan had been to walk to Sarria then catch a train to Santiago, but as we completed the first section quicker than expected, we decide to walk on. A decision of some regret.  A few days short of Santiago, the crowds flooded the path, designer gear sparkled and pilgrim tourists  walked with beers rather than hiking poles.  Cafes and bars were six deep as people fought over a stamp for their credential and tour buses wait at designated areas to pick up passengers to drop off at the next scenic stretch.  The beauty of the landscape was dissolved by the masses and in hindsight, we should have by-passed this section and started on our way to Fisterra earlier.

The Camino has always been about the 3C's - Challenge, Community and Conversation.  It is at the many Albergues that conversations flow over vino tinto and questions always filter back to why, the  Camino.  Stories are retold to new companions who will be replaced at the next Albergue and so the cycle continues.

Postscript:  Made it to Santiago and waited 5 hours at the Pilgrim Office to get our Compostela. (of which, we now have 2)

Get the Rhythm

Get the rhythm, get the rhythm, there you go, get the rhythm.  It is the rhythm that drives you on the Camino!

It is the rhythm of how to pack your bag in the pitch dark, in a shared Albergue, where 20 other souls are sleeping.  It is knowing your clothes by the sense of touch - it is the rhythm, get the rhythm, there you go!

It is the rhythm as your feet and hiking poles tap out the sequence that your body falls into pace with. It is the rhythm that drives you forward up to the peak of O'Cebreiro one foot after the other, the gasping of breath and the cascade of sweat. It is the swagger of the walk as the mist engulfs you; it is the rhythm, get the rhythm, there you go!

It is the rhythm of cutting the wax,  the swivel  of the cork- screw, the swill of the glass as the wine flows and the chorus of clinking. Stories are embellished and laughter roars.  That's it, get the rhythm, there you go! Get the rhythm.

It's the sense of community; Buen Camino, the 5 minute friendships that seem to last a life time. Raising your glass to salud the glory of the day; it is knowing that this is a life stripped bare- walk, eat sleep, repeat.  Get the rhythm, there you go, get the Camino rhythm!

Camino calling!

The Camino call is a strong one. It niggles, gnaws and itches its way under your skin until you agree to succumb!

This call sees us sleep deprived from flights, transit lounges, express  & regional trains, to finally dump us in Ponfeddara.  With a backpack, hiking poles, good boots and an enlightened outlook, we embrace our way!

Our first experience saw us meticulously plan times and distances.  We got swept away with mileage  covered, the number of non-stop walking days and we scoffed at those softies;  who didn't carry their own bag and took taxis, buses or trains. It became a competition of one-upmanship.  We were Camino snobs!  It was only through experiencing an injury and meeting some Camino legends at Shogun, that the major shift in our mindset occurred.  We discovered that, there are no rules, that the Camino is individual; the journey is yours and yours alone!

It is with this philosophy, that we pilgrim this time round.  We walk as far or as little as we want.  There is no plan - we stop at local cafes, yarn, partake in wine tasting and tapas, we  smile, laugh and soak up the atmosphere of being part of the Camino community.  We stroll through vineyards, stay in cosy albergues and beam with the simplicity of it all; a life stripped bare.

Thank you, Camino for calling us back!

Call of the wilds!

In 2017, we set off on an adventure! To step away from the baggage of society and live the simple life. The Way of Saint James, The Camino de Santiago or Pilgrimage of Compostela! With backpacks  containing the barest essentials, we joined the masses, following the ancient path to the resting place of St James.

 Trekking the undulating hills through the rustic villages and towns,  using the simple yellow arrow or shell to guide the way;  A pilgrim's life brings forth a roller coaster of emotions; the anticipation, exhilaration and liberation but also brings; fatigue, aches and pains brought on by the strenuous nature of the challenge.

The first part of this adventure is the physical, the body needs to adjust to the new demands placed upon it, you may develop blisters, sore feet and aches where you never thought possible. ibuprofen and compeed become your new best friends. Just when you start to get the pain under control, you move on to the mental game. By this stage you have walked many kilometres and have many more ahead, just keep one foot in front of the other. The epiphany or spiritual stage kicks in when you realise just what you are achieving and how far you have come. Deliverance!

At dinner on our last night in Santiago, the question went around the table about walking the Camino again? At the time, we felt that we had 'been there done that' and we had other fish to fry.  Never say never!

 We yearn for the simplicity of  'The Way' and are on our way back there now!

                             

How ever you choose to accomplish your Camino, remember, it is just that! Your Camino is your way!