To The End of the World!!! Finally.

After a night of listening to John with the hairdryer in the bathroom determinedly trying to dry out our waterlogged clothing, we awoke the next morning all cozy and dry, afraid to look out the window.  My mind would not have me hold out the slightest bit of hope that there would be any sun or dry weather today. I knew I had a decision to make because I also knew that John's decision was made.  I seriously couldn't deal with another day like yesterday.  Oh well, breakfast awaits.

We made our way into the living/dining room of the small pension and looked out the deck doors into the foggy and wet coast that lay below.  As I watched the rain pummel the outdoor furniture, I didn't want to think of the inevitable so I sat down, determined to live in the moment of my much looked forward to breakfast.  I was asked by the amiable host if I wanted kiwi or melon.  Melon sounded good to me and as we have become accustomed to doing, John ordered the opposite just in case we wanted to share a little bit of variety.  I was brought two delicious slices of honeydew and I can tell you after just half of a bocadillo the night before, I was mighty hungry.  Envisioning some nicely sliced fruit also, John was brought two whole unpeeled kiwis on a plate.  The look on his face burst mine into laughter as I knew he was thinking, "what in the hell am I supposed to do with this?"  As we laughed and he tried to peel the damn thing with his butter knife, he wondered why the guy hadn't just tossed them to him from the kitchen testing John's catching skills, with a "here you go buddy" sprinkled in. We managed....no food goes to waste at this point of this calorie burning adventure.

The café con leche was good and by now the pastries and toasted baguette with butter and jam had become acceptable nourishment in the mornings.  We finished up and retreated to our room to pack up last minute items in our by now semi damp backpacks. I mustered up the courage to look out the window and saw the soaked street but did not observe any raindrops on the windshield of the car across the street.  I had resolved to have the host call me a taxi and just wait for John at Finisterre but as I gazed out the window,  thoughts of how we had come all this way together started to chip away at that resolve.  I looked up and saw a bit of blue through the white hazy dreariness.  OK, I'm coming with you.  I knew he was fine with whatever I wanted to do, but he made me feel good when he said that he was glad I had decided to join him. I put on my dry socks and wet boots.  Would this be the last day that I would wear them?  I hoped so.

After a few words of  "thanks for the hospitality" and "late October is not the time to come here" from the host, thank you very much, we trudged though the town streets decked out once again for the possibility of rain.  Buen Camino. There would be none. We followed the familiar yellow arrows on what would be another 14k, up and out of town into a lovely trail that stretched up through the cloud cover and into the humid sunshine with the promise of drying things out.  I was now excited!  I'm doing this!  I can do this!  I'm going all the way!  I knew that if I trusted what was happening to us yesterday was only temporary, we would be promised something good.  Sort of like the old saying that just beyond the suffering is the blessing.  Hang in there, better times are coming.

We crested a hilltop and saw the town of Finisterre in clear view.  Energized, we walked down toward the coastline with sandy beaches in sight, and the smell of the ocean flooding our senses.  A moment I will not soon forget.  We walked for a while next to the seaside on the familiar sidewalks lovingly made for the pilgrims committing to this stretch. Although Finisterre held no religious significance to pilgrims, it did have sufficient symbolic attraction to justify the four to six day (make that ten days for us) roundtrip from Santiago for pilgrims who had already been walking for several months. 


 

 

We came upon an elderly Spanish man with a backpack on himself.  Maybe he was training for his own pilgrimage or maybe he was just trying to look friendly to other pilgrims.  We had a conversations with him as to the best accommodations and how to get there and we were on our way.  John ducked into a small tienda for a couple of cold Estrellas and our celebration was underway.  An attractive young woman jumped into the street asking if we needed a place to stay.  Remember, with our pilgrim regalia, we look like people who will eventually be needing a place to sleep.  I noticed the place was called Alburgue Cabo da Vila and was the very same one the old man had mentioned.  We took it as a sign that this may be the place.  We went through our familiar questions, tiene habitacion privado? private room? si! may we see it? si!  The little room at the top of three flights of stairs was cute and had a nice view of the sea. It had a shared bathroom but there was another bathroom on the floor so we decided on last night of camaraderie with fellow pilgrims would be worth putting up with this.

 



They took our dirty things and washed them and dried ! them for 6 euro.  Deal.  We were hungry again and walked out to look for something to eat.  We were so happy to see our friends johncasey and Brett and Barb standing in the street!  I asked Barb how here father was and he was stable so she continued her journey.  We talked about our plans and they were getting ready to head up to Muxia, a place we decided against.  We were both just tired. Maybe next time. It was good to see them once again. 

We settled on a seaside place where I had a bowl of delicious fish soup and John had the typical Spanish sausage hamburger and fries.  I don't know where we found the energy, perhaps it was the knowing that we would not be walking anymore after today, but we bought a bottle of wine and headed the 3k (6k roundtrip!) up to the lighthouse at lands end.  This is the place where everyone traditionally burns their clothing or things they hope never to see again.  We would not be doing this as it was so damp and the wind was blowing pretty good.  It was a beautiful walk in the twilight and we had hoped to be there for sunset.  We did watch the sun go beneath the clouds as we sipped our celebration vino and entertained a small sparrow that John called Jack Daniels after his good friend who passed away in the last year. Jack was an unofficial bird enthusiast and the thought that this was Jack's energy was very strong for John. The tiny bird was no farther from us than an arm's reach and just hung out so close to us flitting back and forth in that fierce wind that was blowing.  There was no reason for him to be sharing that space with us, but share that space he did. 

 

 

 Jack Daniels, our friend

 Jack Daniels toasting the moment with John.

We got pretty emotional upon the sight of the last yellow arrow.  We had followed them for more than 500 miles to this place. I also followed the directions on the 'seat' I had read a few days before, instructing me to throw my Camino shell into the ocean. I knew the truth of the statement that the Camino is now in my past.  I am also comforted by the knowledge that it is now a part of me and will never leave me.  

 

We donned our headlamps and headed back down to the little seaside town.  At dinner, we got to see our friend Patty from Canada one last time.  As some we have met have expressed, the Camino has not been about the walking and challenge of it all, it has been about the people we have met and the energy of the people gone before us and the people who will undoubtedly come after, their learnings and their experiences.  We are sure that the impact of this adventure will be continuing long after we have arrived back home.  We will long be thinking of and talking about our individual journeys and that of the one we embarked upon and completed together. As my friend Betsy told me, this is definitely the crown on our 30 years together. Indeed. Buen Camino!!!!