Not to worry, we weren’t kidnapped.

Arriving in Santiago was a little more emotional than I expected. Between the emotions, exhaustion, visiting of the cities, we really hadn’t stopped. I ended up putting away my phone and focusing on soaking in the last few days of our adventure.

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A Picarãna is where we left off, after having walked nearly 30 kms on day 11.

We called Diego, the owner of the B&B after having found it on Booking.com. We weren’t sure about its proximity to the path. Turns out, it was 700m. Doable. Although, he did offer to pick us up at the path. After having walked 28 kms, we briefly contemplated his offer. However, the idea was short lived, as this is a pilgrimage, and not always meant to be comfortable.

Dripping in sweat and slightly delirious from dehydration, we found Diego’s home. He was so glad we called him directly that he offered us each our own room.

Booking.com may be easier, but human touch accounts for a lot.

I believe I’ve already spoken about the rest of the evening chez Diego… therefore, I will continue on to day 12…

After a perfect breakfast, Diego pointed us in the right direction. Joining back up with the path, we were now on our way to the finishing line.

We walked slowly, while others rushed by us. Breathing in the fresh air. Listening to the birds. Admiring our surroundings.

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Santiago

Walking into Santiago via the Portugues route is a little less thrilling then arriving through the arch where the bagpipes play, like the entry from the French way, however the emotions are still very much present.

Arriving at the larger than life, Santiago de Compostela, cathedral is powerful. The cathedral itself isn’t as big as others. However, with it’s positioning; perched up in the square, its Romanesque, intricate detailing it is no wonder it marks the end of the pilgrimage.

Emotions running high, tears running down my face we took pictures. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t thinking about the last time I was here as well. There may have been a little PTSD happening.

We ran back into those we had met on the journey, John, Sue, Ucas. We hugged. We congratulated one another. Barely knowing these people you develop an unexplainable bond with them.

The next day was dedicated to walking around the city and awaiting Neelima and Keiran and later for Mark to arrive, in the square. Each one overwhelmed by the same emotions. You can tell which people do this walk with a purpose, as a pilgrimage and which now do it for a trip.

Neelima had been in a wheelchair for a year prior to this trip. This pilgrimage was her way of saying thank you. A lovely Indian couple, living in the Sonoma valley. Andrew, Eric, get ready, we will be visiting them.

And finally, we found our favourite Texan Mark walking up. He made it just in time for us to say a quick goodbye before we headed back to porto. Mark continued on to Finisterre. Marc, if you are reading this, we hope you had a beautiful journey to the end of the world. May we meet again.

We headed back to Porto on the 6pm bus. A 4 hour ride on twisty and windy roads. I forgot my gravel. Thankfully I slept part of the way.

Gerlinda, from Germany and the California boys were on our bus.

I’m not sure I mentioned the group of 10 young, good looking Californian guys we met … You have a lot of time walking the Camino, so, Leslie and I had lots of time to concoct a story about why they were walking the way. We really hardly saw them, but still concluded with: they are a group of recovering addicts, making amends.

Turns out they were a group of pastors. Based on a few comments I heard them make, I don’t believe it. If you had seen them, you would believe it either. I only wish I had taken a picture of them.

On the bus, we passed a few pilgrims. We saw roads we had walked. Scenery we had admired. Destinations which we realized were much closer by car than by foot. We followed along on the map as we passed all the villages we had visited.

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Once in Porto we found our hotel. After 2 weeks in Europe, eating late has become the norm. We headed out for dinner around 9:30 to try the Franceshina sandwich. The Portuguese equivalent, if not a notch higher then the poutine. The perfect hangover food. Salty, meat and egg sandwich covered with melted cheese, on chips with gravy. A Portugues dish worth trying, if only once.

The rest of our stay was devoted to waking the streets through the mounds of tourist. It was impressive. There wasn’t a bare spot on the sidewalks. The cobble stone streets, the cigarettes, the chestnuts being roasted, it’s a sight to see.

We ate, we shopped. We discovered that Porto is, indeed, a lovely city despite the poverty that surrounded us. We gave a croissant to one particular man every evening when walking back to our apartment. He was appreciative. We later found out that many people living on the street were given homes by the government, paying 2 or 3 euros a month, and still choose to live on the streets.

I always find it odd to head back to a city after a pilgrimage. Granted we didn’t rough it, every night, like we could have. But there is a sense of awareness that comes with walking the Camino. If you’re lucky enough to realize it then your camino has had its intended affect.

I’ve now walked two pilgrimages. It’s a unique and fascinating way to see the world. Discover yourself and learn what really matters. Which at the end of the day is nothing but, happiness.

❤️

* Thank you Leslie for being a wonderful travel companion. Going away with someone you’ve only met a few times, living in confined spaces, could have been a disaster. Instead, it worked out beautifully. I was blessed to share this experience with you. I look forward to our next trip.

Now we start planing the next Camino …