Walking The Camino

This will be my last update and it's difficult to know how to begin. As a writer, you always want things to be written 'just so' - to convey your message - facts, atmosphere, anecdotes, emotions - as clearly and concisely as possible. Well, blogging - especially on Camino - doesn't always lend itself to that. I've started each update as I've often read that writers should ... by just starting. Sometimes I've had the time, energy, Internet connection and battery power to go back and tidy things up. Sometimes I've just written what comes to mind, hoping for some semblance of logic, until I get to what seems a good place to stop. And no-one will accuse me of having been concise. So I'll just start and we'll have to see where we get to. Though I predict I'll make the time to go back and 'tidy up' this last letter to you.

When I began The Camino in St Jean Pied de Port on Sunday 25 September I knew only a few things for certain - where I would begin, where I hoped to get to, what was in my backpack, and that I would be walking. I had an idea that if all went well, physically, I would reach Santiago de Compostela around 30 to 32 days later. I had a strong wish to walk all the way and knew my greatest challenge would be to accept gracefully if anything happened to prevent me doing that. I don't recall that I had any other expectations and, in truth, that was the most appealing aspect - not knowing or anticipating what would happen along The Way. I only had one rule - when faced with a decision, to follow my intuition. And that's exactly what I've done.

You know by now that I have had great good fortune arriving in Santiago de Compostela on Day 29, feeling perfectly fine, with no aches and pains and no injuries - not one blister (can you believe it?) - and, to date, I still have all my toenails, though I don't expect that to last. But you also know that has been the least of my good fortune.

I've met wonderful people along The Way, walked through the most extraordinarily varied countryside, cities, small towns and tiny villages, had a great many laughs, just a few days tinged with sadness, and some crazy adventures and misadventures. Physically, some days were tough mostly due to the punishing afternoon heat and some equally punishing climbs. But there was not a single morning when I wasn't eager to start walking and only two days (on the final few hours into Burgos and later into Melide) when I was desperate to get to my destination. Every day my efforts were rewarded and I've shared many of those times with you. The rewards were usually simple things I take for granted in my 'usual' life - seeing a familiar face, a hot shower, being able to wash and dry my clothes, sometimes a room to myself, having dinner with a friend talking over the day's events or discussing what tomorrow might bring.

You've met the people whom I've spent most time with on The Camino - Patrick, Rosarii, Bernard, Nina, Vaclev, Jens, Ka, Michael, Penny, Jonathan and Erica, Iago and Richard - the gorgeous boys from Brazil - and the two gentlemen from Venezia. There have been plenty of other characters - many inspirational and some 'special - but not always in a good way', as Nina would say:

The young man walking The Camino with his dog, walking through the night across the Meseta to avoid the heat. And the Spanish girl who tagged along with 'the famous dog that walked The Camino'.

The French couple (aged 62 and 64) who started walking in France in early August and had walked 1,000 kms before joining my Camino - The Camino Frances - in SJPP to walk another 800 kms to Santaigo.

The Australian man in his 80s whom I never met (he was a few days behind me) but I heard about him a number of times, the first from Thomas, the Polish priest who was walking in his brown cassock, usually singing to himself - loudly.

Two women - one French, one German - who had each started their camino by walking out their front doors. Like the French couple, both would have walked at least twice the distance I have.

The young Muslim man, who Penny from New Zealand had walked with, who wanted to walk The Camino in the hope of meeting many Christians and confirming his belief that we are all just people whose similarities far outweigh our differences.

The German lady who interrupted my conversation with the hospitalero at Casa Carmen by literally pushing me aside and announcing. 'I need a bed and a blanket'. Later that night she complained loud and long when people were talking and the lights were on at 9pm when she wanted to sleep - only to have her alarm go off 'alarmingly' early the next morning and turning on every light while everyone else was trying to sleep. Then waited for an hour or more for Nina and I asking if she could walk with us as she didn't want to walk in the dark.

Nina and I later discussed the fact that there were 'special people - but not always in a good way' everywhere, even on The Camino - or, as Nina corrected, 'especially on The Camino'. And one of the most 'special - in a memorable way' was the Frenchman nicknamed 'the naked pilgrim' or 'the pilgrim with no pants'. He was actually very sweet but was noticeable for his unique walking shorts - a short, short pair of cut off denims! We encountered him many times - and all recall how disconcerting it was to come upon him on those occasions when he was wearing his red jacket which came down over his bottom - he looked for all the world like 'the pilgrim with no pants'. Though Jonathan was later to note that 'In fairness, he has impressive legs!'

The other 'special people - but in a good way' have been all of you who've been sharing my Camino one day at a time by reading my updates and sending your comments, emails and texts. When I think back to the umm-ing and aah-ing I went through deciding whether to write a blog on my Camino, and whether I really wanted to add to my pack by carrying my iPad - I now see that it was destined to be one of the best and most unexpected rewards of my Camino. I was - and am still - overwhelmed by the interest and encouragement of my family and friends and the kind and generous comments you've made. In the first day or two I was a little self conscious about 'publishing' a personal account of my Camino. But thanks to your enthusiasm, it became an important and rewarding part of every day. So a BIG thank you for sharing my Camino. THANK YOU.

Extra special thanks to Patricia for looking after my precious Max and Zoe. I can honestly say I was not anxious about them for a minute while I was away, which many of you will find difficult to believe - but it's true. I put that down to the peace of The Camino and the certain knowledge that they were in the most caring hands. Thanks Pat.

I'm looking forward to seeing those heavenly creatures, and catching up with family and friends (sorry about the order!), having a more extensive wardrobe to choose from - though perhaps I'll be overwhelmed, wearing a pretty summer dress and sandals, painting my toenails pink (hope I will still have 10 when I get home), getting my hair cut (it's an emergency, believe me), eating Thai food, having my first large skim cap at Montagu, taking those puppies to the park, seeing my house and my garden, waiting (hopefully not too long) for someone to invite me to do some work - and, of course, more long walks. Coastrek 2012 is only 4 months away. Yikes.

Some 'pilgrims' say that walking the Camino changed them or changed their lives. I don't know if that is - or will be - true for me. I guess it's too early to say. But The Camino gives you many opportunities every day to give and receive kindness, compassion and laughter - and that's a gift - and it reminds you every day of life lessons you've already learned but have forgotten or 'misplaced'. One new lesson I learned is that I am much stronger - physically and emotionally - than I imagined. And most days I think The Camino brought out the best in me. So that's not a bad outcome, just for putting one foot in front of the other, taking one day at a time, one step at a time.

Muchos gracias, mis amigos.
Con amor y buenos deseos.
Hasta Luego. J x

Day 3 - Cee to Finisterre - Cabo Finisterre - Finisterre (20 km)

Hola mis amigos

A day late with this update but first I must report the good news that today Tony was able to retrieve passports etc from Vernazza. Cathy said she thought it was quite a trauma for him to go back there, as you could imagine. The roads are reopening and they have a 'guardian angel' who has insisted on driving them to Genoa airport tomorrow. Cathy wanted to post an update on the blog but connection is intermittent so, in case she is unsuccessful before I post this update, I wanted to let family and friends know that they will make their way back to London tomorrow. Thank you also for emails I have received from friends grateful for their good fortune and safety. (update: have just seen that Cathy was able to post her comment on yesterday's blog update, so please have a look there for more information. Thank goodness all is well.)

So I'll tell you a little about the final journey to Finisterre. But first our stopover in Cee. Nina and I arrived in our rescue taxi knowing we needed to find a hotel with some facilities rather than basic accommodation at an Albergue. With the help of the local police, who moonlight as the Officio Tourismo, we were steered in the direction of a few possibilities and found our way, still drenched, to the Hotel Insua. For 40 euros, a twin room with private bathroom was just the ticket. I can't say the hospitalero / receptionist seemed overly keen to see us. And less so when we explained we would need to shortly send most of our clothes to the laundry for the 'secadora' - the dryer. No washing, just drying. I think the last straw was when we asked if she could find us some old newspapers which we would use to stuff inside our shoes to soak up some of the moisture (I learned that tip from Michael - thank you). Despite her misgivings, she duly produced some newspapers for which we were most grateful.

We were relieved to finally have a room (which would double as a drying room for boots and packs and anything else that couldn't go into the 'secadora') - and the promise of a hot shower. Though our pack rain covers had worked well, most of our belongings were cold and at least a little damp. Thankfully my iPad was well protected as my habit was to wrap it in one of my 'buffs' (scarves) and then in a nylon bag. After hot showers and putting together odd ensembles of the driest clothes available, everything else was packed up and delivered to reception.

Less than an hour after set down by the rescue taxi we were back on track and ready for a late lunch. The wild weather had barely abated but back in 'civilisation' we were much less vulnerable. In fact Cee is quite a sizable town and Nina and I found ourselves in a shopping centre - with an escalator no less! It was quite a shock and a world away from where we had been just a few hours earlier.

All went well with the 'secadora' and we had a package of dry clothes by early evening. Our shoes and rain jackets were a bigger challenge but when we discovered a hair dryer in the bathroom we put it to good use, though not for hair drying. By the next morning, our shoes were still not dry but they would do.

Over dinner in Cee, we decided that we would walk to Finisterre no matter what. Unlike the day we'd just had, there would be a number of places to stop on the way if necessary and we worked out it was only 13 kilometres to Finisterre (not 16 as we'd thought) and then another 3 or so up to the lighthouse at 'the end of the world'. It would only take about 3 hours to reach Finisterre.

As expected, it rained most of the way to Finisterre though the sun valiantly struggled to get through and occasionally succeeded. We made light work of the 13 km walk which was almost all along the coast with a climb into the forests every now and then. It was easy going despite the rain and served to remind us what an extraordinary morning we'd had the day before.

We arrived in Finisterre wet again - but only on the surface. We liked the town immediately. It is larger and busier than either of us had anticipated but has that charm that coastal fishing towns seem to share, no matter what country. Our immediate mission was to find a pensione or small hotel, offload our packs, have a wander around the fishing harbour and find a table with a view for lunch.

Of course it's easy to spot the pilgrim and, before too long, a señora approached us to ask if we were looking for 'habitaciones'. Nina wasn't keen but I had a good feeling about this 60 something lady and, as I said to Nina, what's the harm? If we don't like it, we will find something else. We made sure she understood that we were just looking. And so we followed her along the harbour foreshore for about 5 minutes until we arrived. And that's how Nina and I found ourselves with our own fully self contained four bedroom apartment for 15 euros each. We couldn't quite understand how and why, but the señora explained that she had other things to do that day and did not have time to 'find' any other pilgrims. She would usually offer each room for 15 euros with guests sharing the bathroom and kitchen - which would have been fine with us - but today she was happy for just we two. Nina and I just couldn't believe our luck.

So to the afternoon. We had thought to walk up to the lighthouse - Cabo Finisterre - in the early evening in the hope of seeing a glorious sunset. But as the weather had improved - the rain had stopped - we didn't want to tempt fate so we left at about 3.30 to walk the 3+ kms up the hill. I had told Nina about the 'wishes' I was carrying which I would take to the place that used to be thought of as the 'end of the world', have a quiet few minutes to read them again, and then .... And then what? I didn't like the idea of scattering the letters to the winds and littering the ocean - so I decided I would need to burn them. It seemed the only option.

Magical moment though it would be, there were practical matters to consider. So we had to make a trip to the Supermercado before heading off. Mission accomplished - and armed with a lighter and a foil cake tray - we made our way to the lighthouse. Full credit to Nina who thought it lovely that wishes from family and friends had travelled The Caminos with me. She was very supportive. If she was amused or concerned about my purchases from the Supermercado, and the upcoming fire ceremony, she had the good grace not to let on.

It was a lovely and peaceful walk up to Cabo Finisterre. When we first arrived there was a tour bus there - understandably it's a popular place - but, not long after, only about a dozen people remained. I found a quiet spot and read 'the wishes' again and finally opened the 'open at the end' letter. Thank you Jill and Marty and I look forward to our celebration! It won't surprise anyone to know that there were a few tears, as there had been each time I'd read your wishes along the way. And I found I was quite reluctant to let go of them as it seemed it would truly mark the end of my Camino.

But it was time to have my little ceremony which turned out to be very moving, quite funny at times and a little scary. The wind was raging and I had quite a lot of paper to burn. At first it was difficult to get the lighter to work in the wind. I got scared that I would start a fire which would burn out of control and desecrate this world heritage listed headland. After some discussion with Nina as to an effective and relatively safe way to proceed, the ceremony was underway. At times there was quite a big flame and a great deal of smoke coming from that foil cake tin to the point where I was relieved when the fire finally went out, and only the ashes - and the cake tin - remained. By now they will have scattered over the headland or out to sea.

So, to those whose wishes I carried with me every step of the way, I hope you will forgive the rather unorthodox and somewhat pagan ceremony and know that it was done with the best of intentions. All there is to add is to thank you for entrusting me with your wishes. I hope everything you hope for comes true.

Some time later, Nina and I walked back down the hill.

Today I took the bus back from Finisterre to Santiago where I'll have the day tomorrow (Saturday) before flying to London on Sunday. During the three hour bus ride today I thought back over the last 30 something days and what an extraordinary time it's been.

So that's probably something to write about for my last update tomorrow.

Hasta Mañana. J x

Words of Gratitude

I have just returned from the 'end of the world' and was going to write my daily update but that can wait.

I'd rather write some words of gratitude for the safety of my sister Cathy Cooper, husband Tony, and their children, Georgia and Adam who I'd assumed were enjoying their five day return trip to the Cinque Terre - where Audrey and I enjoyed a wonderful holiday not too many years ago.

A few hours ago I sent a text to Cathy to say hi and see how their break was going in those enchanting villages on the coast of Italy. Nina and I have just walked up and back from the lighthouse at Cabo Finesterre and I was telling her about the beauty of the Cinque Terre - as Finisterre reminded me of it in some ways - and that my sister and family were there.

I returned to a reply from Cathy telling me the news of the devastating flash flooding and mud slides which have claimed lives and all but washed away the village of Monterosso with the neighbouring village of Vernazza being evacuated by sea. You will no doubt be aware of this, but I had no idea of these events - I've not looked up any news while I've been on The Camino.

Cathy and family have been staying in Vernazza - and their clothes and passports are still there. She has told me in her text that purely by chance and good fortune they headed out to have lunch in another village just an hour before a wall of water came through Vernazza. And thankfully they went east and not west to Monterosso.

This was on Tuesday (it's now late Thursday afternoon on this side of the world) and they don't know when they will be able to get back to Vernazza but are hopeful it may be tomorrow.

Cathy told me they have heard some frightening stories but also many stories of kindness and generosity, as is the way of these terrible events that bring out the best in people in the worst of circumstances. And they have been shown enormous kindness too, saying it doesn't hurt to be travelling 'con bambini'. God bless them, they're still following my blog when they can get a connection!

So this update is just to say how blessed we are that they are fine and what a tragedy it is that lives and livelihoods - and perhaps whole villages - have been lost in the magical Cinque Terre.

Hopefully they will make it back to London as planned on the weekend and I will see them as planned on Sunday afternoon (Adam's birthday). I'll be sure to give each of them a big hug from all their family and friends who read this blog.

I spent some time this afternoon 'at the end of the world' counting my many blessings. Now I have one more to add to the list.

Take care. And I'll tell you about Day 3 on The Camino Finisterre very soon.

J x

Day 2 - Vilarserio to Cee (37 km)

What a day! Where to begin? Perhaps at the beginning is best.

When I last wrote to you, I reported that Nina and I had decided that if the predicted wild weather came to pass we would take the bus the 20 kms to Olveiroa.

When we woke this morning 'esta lloviendo gatos y perros' - it was raining cats and dogs - with storm clouds gathering. 'No hay problema' - we would just catch the bus to the end of this stage as we'd discussed. With that in mind we packed our bags and walked the few steps up to the cafe - owned by our hosts at the private Albergue - to enjoy a leisurely breakfast and enquire about the time for the bus. All good so far. That's when the day took an unexpected turn.

No, there is no bus from here, the señora told us. We later reflected that we had each made the same assumption - that we could pick up the bus along the way at the place of our choosing. So many people say 'I think I'll take the bus to Finisterre' rather than walking. And that's fine - from Santiago. But The Camino doesn't connect with the bus route (until you get to Cee, about 70 kms along the way). And we're not sure why we thought that it did, when there was no evidence of that given some of the countryside we'd walked through the day before. Strange, how two people made the same incorrect assumption independently.

So we laughed at our mistake, accepted that we would be walking after all and calmly finished our breakfast. I mean, how bad could it be? We would soon find out.

Over the next 2 hours and 9 kilometres we experienced first hand the relentless rain and wind (from all directions) of the untamed Galicia written about in my guidebook. We soon realised we had crossed the line from dedicated pilgrims to crazy pilgrims. Nina was in trouble early on as she didn't have waterproof pants. I fared much better for the first hour but the drenching rain soon got the better of my waterproof jacket. Once the jacket is completely drenched, there's just nowhere else for the water to go but to seep through. My trousers did a better job but it was a tall order.

We did our best to jump over puddles that were soon more like small raging rivers as the heavy rain continued. At one stage when we couldn't navigate a section of road that had become a lake, we climbed a fence into a farmer's paddock in an effort to walk around the problem. But before long there was little point in such strategies. Our boots, socks and feet were drenched - despite the gore-tex - so we just walked through the puddles, small rivers and mini-lakes without a second thought.

I have to tell you that despite - or rather because of - our predicament, we were in good spirits and soon found that we were laughing at our misadventure, though this was at least in part to distract from the somewhat worrying aspects of our situation. What choice did we have? During that 2 hours and 9 kilometres we did not see a single person, animal or vehicle.

But despite our good humour, we knew that something had to be done. Though we remained positive and enjoyed the slapstick nature of our misadventure neither Nina nor I were interested in getting pneumonia or being struck by a falling branch or the lightning that was threatening. We resolved that when we reached the small village of Maronas where there was a cafe, according to my book, we would find a solution. And we did and it was an easy decision. We continued on and finally, thankfully, arrived safely in Maronas. The feeling of relief was immediate as we burst into the dry and cosy cafe. We asked the hospitalero if there was a local taxi driver who could take us to the coastal town of Cee (some 28 kms on - a town on The Camino Finisterre, from which there is also a bus). 'Si',he told us and offered to make the call. The taxi would be here in 15 minutes. Grateful for his help and that he welcomed us despite the fact that we were drenched from head to toe and dripping all over his establishment, we ordered 'dos cola cao' (two hot chocolates) and happily waited for our rescue vehicle.

And that's how we came to travel 37 kilometres today - 9 on foot and 28 by car. It was a strange feeling sitting in the back of the taxi. Over the last 32 days I had covered more than 850 kilometres and this was the first time I had travelled by any means other than my own two feet, with my backpack 'Boots' on my back and with the aid of my two walking poles, Juan 1 and Juan 2. And I think this was the first time it has really sunk in for me - not walking into Santiago on Sunday, but today sitting drenched in the back of this taxi with my Camino friend, Nina.

One way or another, we will arrive in Finisterre tomorrow, just 16 kilometres on from here. We'll find a nice Casa, hopefully with a view of the Atlantic Ocean, leave our packs behind and some time later we will walk the final 3.5 kilometres to the lighthouse on Cabo Finisterre - at the end of the world. It's exciting. It would be too much to expect a clear afternoon to enjoy what would be a spectacular sunset. But stranger things have happened on The Camino.

Hasta Luego, mis amigos.

P.S. Many thanks again for your emails and comments over the last few days. Too many to mention everyone so just a few 'first timers' - Patrick (my Camino amigo), Lilly and Bill, Mandi, Amanda and Kate. So glad you have enjoyed sharing The Camino. And to Iago and Richard - if you're reading this - I was thrilled to get your email and to hear you had arrived safely in Santiago. I will reply in proper style soon.

P.P.S. Only a couple of photos from today. It was too wet to take out the camera, so I've added a few of St Jean Pied de Port on the very first day of my Camino.

Day 1 - Santiago to Vilaserio (35 km)

Hola mis amigos - those of you still hanging in there with what you must think is the never-ending blog. The end is almost in sight!

As you see, Nina and I did not follow the recommended first stage of 22 kms towards Finisterre, but walked on from Negreira to Vilaserio instead - a strategy to make 'way' while the sun shines (or at least while it wasn't raining the whole day). The way to Finisterre is notoriously wet and wild so our idea was that we would stop in Negreira for a late lunch and if the weather was on our side we may continue the additional 13 kms to Vilaserio (pop. 40) the next village with accommodation.

When we left Santiago it was almost 9am, wet and still dark thanks to the ominous cloud cover. We were very soon in a rainforest which could have been in far north Queensland and the rain was coming down. Thankfully, as the guidebook suggested, though we were navigating running streams underfoot, the dense forest provided some protection from above.

But we were lucky. As the day progressed there were patches of clear sky and only intermittent rain. When we arrived in Negreira, this was still the pattern and the hospitalero told us that storms were predicted for tomorrow. So our decision was made and we walked on, finally arriving in our Albergue at around 6pm. The Camino again rewarded our effort and Nina and I are the only two in a community room that sleeps 16. In fact we have the whole building to ourselves. It's modern, clean, comfortable and cosy. Just as well as it's cold outside!

Tomorrow will definitely be a shorter walk as there are not many options for accommodation - at 22 kms or 40+ kms. We won't be doing the latter. We will have to play it by ear. Neither of us is prepared to walk through the storm - with head held high or not - so we may take the bus part or all of the way if things turn ugly.

We saw just 5 other pilgrims today and no-one since we decided to walk the extra 13 kms to this tiny village. Nina and I were discussing that neither of us would like to be walking the Camino Finisterre on our own, at least at this time of year. Though we had both walked many days alone on the Camino Frances and often saw no-one for many hours at a time, you know that there are others not far ahead or behind. Not so here. I count my blessings I found a Finisterre walking buddy in Nina.

As I walked today I thought about how kind and generous my family and friends have been with your encouragement as I walked the Camino (the big one) and your congratulations when I arrived in Santiago just two days ago. It also occurred to me that it's been a long road not just for me but for all of you, hanging in there with me for a month.

I wondered whether you might feel as though you were at one of those events that, while enjoyable, seems to never end. Like a concert that you've enjoyed, with genuine enthusiasm, but just goes on that bit too long! You know what I mean. It's all over (or so you think), you have clapped generously, the 'big finish' song has been sung (a long drawn out version), the stage lights have dimmed, you're just about out of your seat, ready to head to the nearest exit ... when the overture starts up again and suddenly they're back on stage. Enough's enough! It's getting late. Not an encore, please.

Well, I completely understand and sympathise if you're a bit 'over' this blog now. So feel free to 'slip away'. But I'll keep writing updates until 'the end' or until this Spanish sim expires. (I've tried to recharge on the website but no luck so far. So if updates stop abruptly, don't be concerned that I'm lost in the Galician wilderness.) This is my journal of my Camino experience so I can't stop now. But you've already been a great audience, for a very long time, so head for the exits at will!

Thank you and goodnight! J x

On to Camino Finisterre

I meant to add to my last update, in case you are wondering, that I still have with me all your wishes - expressed to me in cards, letters, emails and conversations. I said I would carry them with me all the way - and so on to Camino Finisterre.

I read them all again last night as I have done a number of times along The Way. Except I haven't opened that lovely little envelope, Jill, marked 'open at the end' - though I don't imagine you thought it would literally be at the 'end of the world'!

Lots of love. J x

Santiago de Compostela

Today started unlike any other of the past month. I woke up and quickly realised I wasn't going anywhere today. I wouldn't be repacking my pack or checking two or three times that I have all my belongings before leaving the room - in fact strangest of all I would be sleeping in the same bed two nights in a row. You might think I'd be relieved, but not so. Happy for this break for one day, but happier to be walking again tomorrow. Before we get to that, I'll go back to last night and my arrival in Santiago.

Arriving in the rain, I followed The Camino to the Cathedral. I didn't go in yesterday - knew I would have plenty of time for that today - so headed straight to the Officio de Peregrino to get my final stamp of The Camino Frances and apply for my Compostela. It was on the way to the hotel I'd booked, so no time like the present. I was asked where I'd started and whether I had walked all the way - though only the final 100 kms must be walked to apply for a Compostela. And my credenziale was examined to see the stamps from each Albergue or Casa or Pensione I'd stayed in - you must have at least one stamp for each day then two along the way for the last 100 kms, which can be obtained from churches and cafes. So my paperwork checked out - simpler than getting that Spanish sim card. I was asked my reason for walking The Camino - and I answered 'reflection', which seemed to satisfy. If you are a true religious pilgrim - or say that you are - you get the fancy Compostela. But my not so fancy one is fine. It's in Latin, including my name which is Ioannam. I didn't think to ask if there was something I could put it in to protect it from the elements, and the official didn't suggest anything. Juggling my Compostela, credenziale and backpack and clothed head to toe in wet gear, by the time I got downstairs it was already slightly torn and quite damp. I thought that was very funny - so much the way of The Camino! I later found out there's a small cylinder for one euro, which now holds my slightly damaged but now dry Compostela.

It was time to brave the rain again to find the hotel I'd booked online just a few days ago once I was fairly confident of my arrival date. It looked to be in a good location - it was. And the room looked good too - it wasn't. Think of a small dark musty cupboard with a bathroom attached. It's amazing what can be done with a wide angled lens. I unloaded my pack and stood in the cupboard for less than 5 minutes before deciding to head out in search of something else. A small dark room with a tiny window is not the place to be on a cold and rainy day. While on The Camino I had opted for a private room about half a dozen times and each time the room was delightful - and more so the smaller the village. After walking through the maze of streets in the old city I finally found a single room which was small but light and airy, with a lovely outlook. I returned to the first hotel and explained to the owner very nicely - and in my best Spanglish - that the photo was big and bright and the room was not. He didn't argue and I think we agreed he wouldn't charge my credit card - but I can't be sure. I'll soon find out. Settled in my new room, I enjoyed a lovely hot shower, and found some dry if not particularly clean clothes that would do for the evening.

When I last heard from Nina by email the afternoon before, she told me that she and Vaclev were going to try to get to Santiago by Sunday night - a 40 km walk from where they were at the time. I was to call her at 7pm to see how they fared. Sure enough, they were in Santiago. By 7.30 we were reunited in front of the Cathedral and set out in the rain to find somewhere for dinner.

We enjoyed our reunion very much. Vaclev had tales to tell of his time on The Camino Primitivo. He saw just six other pilgrims over the course of 10 days. Both Nina and Vaclev found their long day to Santiago was not as gruelling as they had anticipated. Strange as it may seem, though I can certainly relate, they found walking in the rain was quite good for a change. By the time they had 15 kms to go, they didn't want to make any further stops and so here we were together again. It would have been lovely if Jens and Bernard could have been there too - the other two members of the Camino con caffe con leche club.

We agreed to meet the next day (today) in front of the Cathedral to attend the special pilgrims' mass together - held every day at 12 noon. Though I'm a self-confessed non-religious pilgrim (and had confessed same to the Officio) I was glad to be there with my amigos and moved by the sense of community among the pilgrims. This update is already rather long so I'll write more about that tomorrow or the next day.

Vaclev, Nina and I took our seats in a pew and waited for the service to begin. A tap on the shoulder and there were Canadians Erica and Jonathan, who Nina and I had been with at Casa Carmen and I'd caught up with again at Melide two nights before. I hadn't seen them on my last day but felt sure they were not far behind. From time to time during the service I looked around (as did others) to see whether familiar faces were in the congregation. I whispered to Nina that I hoped we would see the two gentlemen from Venezia and she agreed that would be perfect. We thought they were about a day behind, if all had gone well for them, and unlikely to have arrived in time for the noon mass today.

After mass, we five went for lunch and exchanged more stories and memories of The Camino. As we looked at the now familiar menus to choose our order, we all agreed that we were not walking today so there was no need to eat as if we didn't know where our next meal was coming from - and then proceeded to clean up everything on the enormous plates we've come to expect. Oh dear, I don't have much time left for that calorie burning to catch up to the calories. At lunch we decided we would meet for dinner tonight - Vaclev returns to Czech Republic tomorrow and Erica and Jonathan on to Paris. Like every holiday, it's all about the next coffee and the next meal - and more so on The Camino!

And then ... my favourite moment today was when I clapped eyes on the two gentlemen from Venezia. And as is so often the way on The Camino, I bumped into them entirely by chance. After lunch Nina and Vaclev went off to the Supermercado and Jonathan and Erica asked if I knew how to get to the Officio de Peregrino. It's just around the corner from where I'm staying so I said I'd take them there. It's a rather confusing place as you need to go to the first floor office but that's not well sign-posted. So I showed them up there and said I'd see them later tonight at dinner. I walked downstairs and as I headed through the stone archway back into the street - there they were, the two gentlemen from Venezia. Bella, Bella. At 73 and 74 years of age (I had thought one was much younger but Vaclev had since found out the other's age) they completed The Camino - walking the entire way in just one more day than I had done it. Each day they spent many more hours on the road than many other pilgrims, especially in the beginning, but they kept on going and were always smiling. And today they wore the biggest smiles of all. I walked with them and others back up the stairs to the Officio (I wasn't going to lose them to the city without a photo). As they walked in, there was a small group of pilgrims also waiting for their Compostela. And suddenly people started clapping. Bueno. Bueno. The two gentlemen from Venezia had touched many hearts along The Way - not just mine.

The only thing I really wanted from Santiago - apart from arriving here in one piece - was to see those two again. And now I have. So I'm ready to go.

A few of you have predicted the postscript to my adventure - The Camino Finisterre (87 kms). Finisterre was the end of the known world until Columbus changed all that. It was also the final destination of many pilgrims who made the journey to Santiago in past centuries. It's very nearly the western most point of Spain so it's not difficult to understand the Galician people, and others, concluding that it was in fact the end of the world and therefore giving it a then most appropriate and now most enticing name.

So Nina and I will leave in the morning to make our way to Finisterre. It will likely take 3 days. Apparently the path is not as well sign-posted as The Camino Frances and the Albergues fewer and further between, so this time we may stick to the stages recommended in the guidebooks. The first day is just 22 kms, so even if the weather is not good, we will have time to take shelter where we can find it.

If nothing else, it will be an adventure. Here are a few words from the guidebook:

'You now leave behind 95% of all pilgrims who remain in Santiago oblivious to the glorious untamed Galicia that lies on the path to Finisterre. Much of the way is through dense eucalyptus although forest fires in recent years have obliterated some of the waymarks - so stay extra alert. ... However the extensive woodlands here provide shelter from the relentless rain and wind (or possibly sun?).'

Well, we've been warned! If things get too horrendous, we can always go to the nearest town and wait for the Santiago - Finesterre bus. But it will take a lot to stop us I think. Stay tuned.

Ultreya! J x

P.S. A mix of photos tonight, of mis amigos and earlier days on The Camino. Apologies if some you've already seen. Pat, you were spot on in your email. I like Santiago but it doesn't inspire me to get my camera out as I have done along The Way, where almost everywhere you look the natural beauty is breathtaking and the simple villages enchanting. I've taken more than 700 photos so far and barely deleted any. It's a wonder I had time to walk!

Day 29 - Arca do Pino to Santiago de Compostela (20.1 km)

Estoy Aqui. I am here.

Day 29 - Sunday 23 October. I arrived in Santiago at around 1.30 this afternoon, having walked up the hill and out of St Jean Pied de Port on Sunday 25 September.

The final stage into Santiago was a wild ride! Threatening skies as I set out, then high winds with branches falling in the forest followed by driving rain for the last few hours. It felt more like Armageddon than the peaceful pilgrimage of the previous 28 days. I wondered if somewhere, someone was keeping track and decided that this pilgrim had enjoyed far too many sunny days.

With only 20 kilometres to walk today, there was no need to rush. Unlike all the other days, I didn't need to look at my map to work out my progress, check where I might get to for lunch or whether I'd make it to my intended stop for the night. I just started walking and followed the markers - and a few other pilgrims - until I arrived wet, but not weary, in front of the Catedral de Santiago de Compostela.

There's no fanfare here. No finish line. People just walking in on their own, like me, or in pairs or groups. Some go in to the Cathedral or directly to the pilgrims' office to receive their Compostela or just wander around the plaza. And today, with the wind and rain, the plaza was almost deserted.

It felt just right to me. If ever there was an experience that is all about the journey and not the destination - The Camino is it.

I'm not going to write much more tonight. The most important thing is to thank you all for being part of my Camino. Your enthusiasm and support and generous and encouraging words have made this experience much more special than I could ever have imagined. Muchas Gracias. Thank you.

But it's not over yet! I had thought if all went well I would walk The Camino in 30-32 days. And I allowed a few days' grace as well. So here I am on Day 29 and I have another 6 days before I fly back to London.

I have something in mind. In fact I've had it mind since before I left home. Gemma and Ross, I wonder if you recall I said to you the night before I left that I had 'something in my back pocket' which I would like to do if I had the time and energy. Well, it seems I do. And, people, there have been a few clues along the way and one of you has even posed the question in her comment. You know who you are!

Anyway, I'll decide tomorrow and I'll let you know. Whatever is in store these next few days, this won't be my last update. I hope you'll stick with me to see how it unfolds.

Buenas Noches

J x

P.S. Photos include one looking out of the window in my room. Nice view. Shame about the rain!

Day 28 - Messages

Hola again, mis amigos

I forgot some important messages.

As I'm writing this message it is Sunday 23 October back at home. So happy birthday to Judy and Gemma. Thank you both for sharing my Camino - this one and my everyday Camino back at home. Hope you each have a lovely day. Lots of love J x

And thank you for recent emails and comments to Rosanne, Audrey, Patricia, Chris B (hi to proposals team at PwC), Julie and Sue.

Chris, looks like I will miss you by just one day as I arrive home on the 3rd. Have a wonderful holiday. And thank you for your lovely and generous email. Look forward to seeing you soon.

J x

Day 28 - Melide to Arca do Pino (33.3 km)

Hola, mis amigos

As you can see I was back on The Way again today and the miracle is that it was one of the easiest days of my Camino - certainly the easiest 30+ day I've walked. Yesterday afternoon that would have seemed impossible.

Let's re-wind to last night. When I started my update it was soon after I'd hobbled in to the Farmacia in Melide and came away with a few bits and pieces to try to alleviate my painful tendonitis - Sue, I think your diagnosis of shin splints may be right.

I interrupted my writing to head out for dinner but, before doing so, I thought I'd best get my personal Farmacia in order and perhaps put on some of the newly purchased Voltarin cream before going out. I was hopeful it would help but not confident. I'd taken 3 x 50 mg Voltarin tablets in the previous 24 hours and while they may have stopped the inflammation getting worse they'd done nothing to alleviate the pain or bruising. But, a miracle cure was at hand. When I opened my first aid kit I spied something I'd completely forgotten I had.

Re-wind further back to the day before I left Sydney when I had an appointment with the wonderful Teresa Lee, traditional Chinese medicine practitioner and most fabulous acupuncturist. On previous visits I'd told Teresa about my plan to walk The Camino. As I was leaving that day, she gave me a small parcel which she said she had ordered especially for me and I must take it with me on my long walk. I opened the parcel to find a supply of adhesive bandages. I recognised them as bandages infused (if that's the word) with strong Chinese herbs. Teresa had given me one some years ago to ease a strained muscle in my back - and it worked. I asked Teresa if this was to be used if I have any back pain on the walk and she said 'use for any pain'. And so, foregoing the cream I'd just bought, I cut one of Teresa's large herbal bandages in half and stuck it on my lower shin. I knew it couldn't hurt - but it was more than that. I've been seeing Teresa for 12 or 13 years now so I was pretty confident it would do some good.

When I woke this morning - no bruising and no pain. I wondered if that would still be the case a few kilometres later. Well, as you can see from this update, I had no need to doubt the magic cure. And, Sue, for good measure, I did those exercises you suggested in your comment (thank you). I had not even the slightest pain all day, despite walking such a long distance. The next time I see Teresa I will tell her how well the herb bandage worked. I know already her response. She will take my hand in both of hers and with her affectionate and quizzical smile she'll say 'yes, my sister, that is why I gave them to you', bemused that I might think it would be otherwise.

That's a long way of letting you know that my day was off to a great start and so it continued. After an early breakfast I left Melide around 8am and soon found myself walking through a forest on the outskirts of the town. For the next half hour or so the only guide was the fast disappearing moonlight filtering through the tall trees. There were two or three walkers in front of me and as many behind. I had a small torch at hand - no doubt others did as well - but no-one turned them on and we were all silent. Perhaps they were as mesmerised as I was by the eerie beauty of this morning walk and careful not to break the spell, for the short time it would last.

Soon enough the moonlight was replaced by sunny and mostly clear skies. It was cold, the coldest morning so far. But inevitably my 3 layers and gloves turned into 2 layers by late morning and shorts and T-shirt by lunchtime. Perfect walking weather.

I felt this was an extraordinary day though it was unremarkable in some ways - the landscape alternated between forests and farmlands through small villages and only one larger town. But I found myself feeling light - energetic yet peaceful at the same time. It was probably a combination of things - the relief and gratitude that I could walk on today after yesterday's scare, thanks to Teresa's unsolicited kindness; the perfect weather and the peaceful surroundings; the spring in the steps of every other pilgrim I saw as we all knew that suddenly we were so close to Santiago - perhaps not quite believing it could be so.

I had planned to write tonight about some of the funny and strange characters and incidents I recalled today and yesterday with Nina - but I got carried away with the telling of my miraculous recovery. At least that's how it seemed to me. So perhaps I can weave those stories in over the coming days.

As for tomorrow, Day 29. I know some of you have been 'doing the numbers' so you know what's ahead. For everyone else - unless The Camino has other plans for me, I'll be walking the final 20 kilometres to Santiago tomorrow. If you find that hard to believe, imagine how I feel?

In the meantime, here's a preview:

'La primera parte de esta etapa final hasta Santiago se hace a traves de densas plantaciones de eucalyptos. Disfruta de la sombra y paz que emanan.'

Impressed? Don't be. My guide book is in English and Spanish! Translation:

'The first part of this final stage into Santiago is through dense eucalyptus. Enjoy the shade and peace they exude.'

Seems appropriate for an Australian pilgrim, don't you think?

Hasta Luego. J x