
The Camino de Santiago is an ancient pilgrimage which people walk to reach the cathedral in the city of Santiago de Compostela, in the Spanish province of Galicia. The custom dates to the 9th Century when a shepherd discovered the purported remains of Saint James the Apostle and King Alfonso II of Asturias declared the site sacred.
There are many routes from places all over Europe. I walked the 800-kilometer Camino Frances in 2015. This is the most popular route, stretching 800-kilometers from St. Jean Pied de Port in the French Pyrenees, across northern Spain, to Santiago de Compostela. Many pilgrims stop there, but there is a tradition to continue to the lighthouse in Finisterre, Fisterra in Spanish. In the Middle Ages, that was considered the end of the earth.
Following a dream
The years went by and I walked the Camino route from Porto to Santiago in 2018, but again ended without continuing the final 90 kilometer (55 mile) stage of the journey. But the idea was there.
Through the years, I kept in touch with a Danish friend I met in 2015. I visited Susanne in Copenhagen in 2016, and she has visited me twice since I moved to Portugal.
Each time we talked about returning to Santiago and making the trip to Finisterre. This year we made it happen. We met in Porto and took a bus to Santiago, stayed a night there and began walking the next morning.

Unfortunately, our timing coincided with a heatwave affecting much of Europe. The first day we got a late start and ended up walking in the heat of the afternoon. The temperature was around 35C (mid-90sF). Living in Portugal, I had had a little time to acclimatize, but my friend Susanne, fresh from Copenhagen, suffered greatly from the hot humid weather.
In addition to the heat, the path went uphill through forested areas for long stretches. We longed for a fountain, but found none. Luckily, we ran into an American couple who had made a booking at an albergue about 10 kilometers away. We made it to Casa de Boi late in the afternoon and gratefully had a shower, hand washed our clothes, ate a good meal and slept.
Sleep can be elusive on the camino. Pilgrims typically stay in albergues (hostels) and sleep in dormitories. If you are lucky and get in early, you can get a bottom bunk. If you are even luckier, no one close to you will snore loudly. And then there are the early birds who get up at 5 a.m. and rustle their plastic bags as they pack their gear. Ear plugs and an eye mask are essential kit for any pilgrim. Plastic bags are a no no!
The walking is the real adventure. After the first night, we had a 3.5 km steep climb. Then we passed fields of young corn, dairy farms with cattle, giant hay bales and mounds of silage that gave off a … well a distinctive smell. Villages were few and far between. By early afternoon of the second day, we reached the town of Negreira.

Negreira was a sizable town with several restaurant choices. Susanne recalls the meal we had there, a feast of breaded chicken and crispy french fries, as one of the best meals of the trip. Funny how food tastes so good when you are tired and hungry!
Heat and strange sounds
The heat continued on our third day. Our hopes were dashed when the village of Vilaserio, where we hoped to eat lunch and maybe stay over, proved to have only two cafes and they were closing as we arrived. We had to continue another 8 kilometers to Santa Mariña. All along the way we kept hearing booming sounds. We wondered if someone was shooting, or blasting for a building project.
No, it was all about the Festa de San Juan, or the feast of Saint John, which is celebrated in Spain and many Latin American countries on the night of June 23 into June 24. Bonfires and fireworks are part of the festivities.

Rested and well-fed, (the lentil soup in San Mariña was my favorite), we continued the next day under a gray sky. Sure enough, it began to pour within an hour. I was prepared with my waterproof dry sack inside my backpack and a pack cover on the outside. The travel rain jacket I bought for 10 euros at Decathlon, was not great! Susanne had a huge, lightweight poncho which covered her pack and body. It did the job but was a hassle to put on and flapped madly in the wind.

A fork in the road
A short distance beyond a hamlet called Hospital, the route splits. One road goes northwest to Muxia, the other way leads southwest to Fisterra. We had always planned to go to Fisterra. Some pilgrims do both.
A few kilometers on, we came to a crossroads and there was a giant statue of the Vákner, a mythical creature resembling a werewolf. The first recorded story of the Vákner was written by an Armenian pilgrim in 1492. He claimed he saw it in Marco do Couto in the municipality of Dumbria.

The five-meter-tall statue of the Vákner created by Candido Pazos was erected in 2019.
We got our first view of the ocean the next afternoon as we approached the town of Cee. In Cee, we spent a comfortable night in an albergue where we were able to get a private room!!! The following day we continued onward, knowing that we only had about 30 kms to our final destination. However, given the rainy conditions, a pressing concern was a way to get our hand washed clothes thoroughly dry.
A few kilometers along, we stopped for coffee and soon spotted a campground with a launderette, complete with dryers!!!! Problem solved.
At last, Finisterre
Somewhere in the next few kilometers, we encountered Sam Harris, a retired American pilgrim who had started his journey in St. Jean in April. We continued walking together, enjoying each other´s company.
When we walked into Fisterra, we found an albergue somewhere in a maze of narrow twisting streets. After a welcome shower and a rest, Susanne and I ventured out to enjoy dinner looking out at the beautiful beach and harbor of the town.



On our final day, we rose at a leisurely hour, enjoyed a breakfast of coffee and churros, the doughnut like strips of fried dough that Spaniards dip in their coffee. Then we set out to walk the final 3.5 kms to the lighthouse. This is the end point, where the way marker shows zero kilometers. You look out from here to the vastness of the sea and the rugged Costa da Morte (coast of death) coastline.
This 90-km journey felt harder than I expected, but I am glad I completed the full Camino journey that began in 2015.
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