Arrived: Cape de Finisterre 2:30pm
Total hours: 6.25
Total kms: 33
Accumulated kms: 1650.8
Weather: overcast
It seemed only fitting that on the final day of my walk I would get lost leaving the city. Lucie, a French-Canadian who was at the same albergue, wanted to head out with me so that she wouldn't get lost. That's like asking the Pope to spend time with you so you don't become Catholic. The second we left the albergue we headed up the wrong road, but were rewarded with a short climb to the top of a hill and a scenic view of the well-lit Muxía. We then found the right road and I soon strode ahead, eager to get cracking on my final day.
It was a beautiful walk. Despite the weather reports of rain it held off all day, and was again really quite warm. The humidity here is incredible - it's actually why it rains so much. I felt as if I was walking quite slowly and taking my time, but before I knew it I was in Fisterra, the little town just before the final 3km climb to the edge of the world, and, once again, lost as I looked for the albergue to receive my third and final compstela (the second one I received upon reaching Muxía). After I found it (and, surprisingly on fiesta day, an open panaderia to buy a delicious napolitana) I headed for the edge of the world.
Earlier today I met three Spaniards in quick succession who had stayed the first few nights of this stage at the same places as I, who had then come here as I went to Muxía. They were all jubilant and happy to see me, and as in good spirits as I at winding up their own Caminos. On the way to the end of the world I saw another Spaniard guy and Italian girl, same story. It was really nice to catch people in the same moment. We all congratulated each other, wished each other the best and passed out of each other's lives forever.
The edge of the world is almost too much. Despite living on an island surrounded by vast expanses of ocean, in all my time spent on various coasts I don't recall that expanse ever feeling quite as immense and impossibly far-reaching as the Atlantic feels here. I can absolutely see how pilgrims of old thought they had come as far as anyone could go. I felt like that myself sitting there staring out.
I checked into a beautiful hotel that is perched right at the edge, had a long, relaxing bath, read a John Galsworthy story, then went out to sit on the rocks in the just-beginning rain and watched the sun set over that mind-numbing infinity. What an incredible end to my Camino.
When I held my camera at a certain angle, this early morning photo of the coast actually looked pretty cool. It doesn't appear to have translated so well on the computer.
I don't know what these little buildings are, but they're all over Spain.
If I had been walking along this path on a day that wasn't fiesta, I would have been met here by a group of construction guys who would have told me to turn back and walk an extra 3km or more. Fortunately, I was lucky and they weren't here, so I just climbed across it.
This is the hotel where I stayed.
The end of the world!
The final marker.
Sun set at the end of the world.
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