To the end of the world
For me, a pilgrimage to Santiago de Compostela is not complete without having seen Cape Finistere, which was considered the end of the world in the Middle Ages. It is still about one hundred kilometres west of Santiago. Some pilgrims continue their quest by walking this stretch during three or four days, but I do not have the time for that anymore. Fortunately there is a good connection by bus, so I still can go there. At a quarter past eight and half past nine a bus arrives from the bus station, not far from my hostel. I awake too late to take the earlier bus, so I have to take the next one. The bus company is Arriva, the same company that is responsible for the public transport by bus in the region of my town Dordrecht. At the time of the departure, it is still misty, but the sun tries to burn away the clouds already and it promises to become a brilliant day again.
Celtic cross
The route of the bus takes us through a beautiful landscape, but it lasts approximately two hours and a half, because the bus must wait for connections with two other buses. Moreover the bus does not go further than the village of Finistera, so you need more than half an hour of walking to reach the cape. As I must choose for the return between the bus of quarter to two or half past five, I have much less time than I had expected. If I knew all in advance, I would have made sure to take the first bus. Nevertheless I have just enough time to walk there and back and to look around a little bit. The road to the cape is marvellous, with a beautiful sight of the bay. People who visit Galicia should also see the coast, which is the most impressive part of this region.
Cape Finistera
In the Middle Ages, the pilgrims used to burn their worn out clothes here. Now there are still many pilgrims who burn their clothes, shoes or stick here. For that purpose a stake is made on the rocks below the lighthouse. I myself do not have to burn anything today, because the clothes worn out during the voyage were already thrown away and I hope to use my walking shoes and stick still many times. So I confine myself to walking about a little bit, make some photographs and I take care that I will be back at the bus in time. I make it, but that means that there is no time for lunch. At the last moment I can only buy a roll of biscuits.
After returning in Santiago, I walk through the town for a while. But I meet nobody I know. Now that I am alone here the town is as beautiful as always, but seems to have lost its magic for me. Even the restaurant where everyone had dinner in yesterday appears to be closed today, so that this cannot be a place for meeting my friends today. I wonder if I shall see my friends who must be still in town today. It makes me feel as if my pilgrimage and my stay in Santiago are petering out like a damp squib. But I at last I am lucky. On a pavement in the Rua Vilar, the most important shopping street in town I find Bob, Asta, Carole and almost the whole group of yesterday’s sitting. We have a lot to tell again and we can hardly appreciate it that right at that moment the local brass band starts a concert there so that we must be silent. We do not stay there much longer and Bob takes us to a restaurant, where a good meal is not too expensive. There are thirteen pilgrims on our table having dinner. Neil has joined us, just like the American students from O Cebreiro and the Van Helden couple from Perth. For the last time, I enjoy the nice fish dishes of the Galician kitchen. Bob will not have a dessert today, because he has to leave halfway through the meal to get his train to Madrid, from where he will fly back to Australia tomorrow.
Street in Santiago
After dinner the pilgrims left are still strolling through the illuminated town. On the place in front of the cathedral it is still very lively and pleasant. The piper and the guitarist who played here today have made way for a real tuna (a group of students in 16th century clothing, singing and playing guitar). The historical buildings around the place are beautiful illuminated. An American lady in our company finally has the bold idea to have a drink together in the very prestigious parador national on this place, one of the most stylish ( but not necessarily the most expensive) hotels of Spain. She is prepared to pay the bill! And so we sit together in the aristocratically furnished lounge, between the antique furniture and historical portraits on the wall. The waiters in spotless clothes with a solemn pace like a bishop and the imperturbability of an English butler are serving the shabby company without turning a hair. The other guests give no sign of being shocked, and nobody frowns on us. We can order what we want, but I have had enough alcohol for today. So I do not show any interest for the cocktails with exquisite names but only order a cup of chocolate (I never had a better one than here!). At midnight I am very tired and I say a last good-bye to Asta, Carole and of all the others. When I reach my hostel, the door is already closed, but with the chip chart on the key of my room I can however enter.
Next day my plane departs at half past one, therefore there is still time for a last stroll through the town. I walk around the cathedral and through the nicest streets once more. At eleven o'clock, I am at the bus station to take the bus to the airport. It is very cloudy again today. Nevertheless from my seat at the window of the plane I can see a part of the northern coast of Spain and I can even recognise from the air Pamplona and the Sierra del Perdon where I walked with my companions four weeks ago. After that there is not much to see anymore until I land on Brussels airport at a quarter past six. The travel by train towards Brussels and further to Dordrecht is not very long anymore. However when I have passed the Dutch border, I have to change to a slow train, because of a missed connection. That is so I can leave the train at a small station not far from my house. The last kilometre my travel is thus made entirely in the style of the Camino, walking with my backpack on. At a quarter past nine in the evening I am home with my family again.
