Santa Irene to Santiago de Compostela

I know I’ve already posted about my arrival in Santiago, but here’s a quick catch up on today’s journey of some 22km.

I left the albergue a little before 8 and headed off into the pre-dawn gloom. The path was pretty quiet initially, with just a handful of pilgrims in sight. Although it wasn’t raining, the air felt cold and damp, and from sound of the passing traffic, it appeared that the nearby road surface was still wet.

After 3km, the Camino passed by one end of the larger village of O Pedrouzo, where the friends I walked with for much of yesterday had stayed. Not surprisingly for a more recognised staging point, there was a significant increase in the volume of pilgrim traffic as those who’d stayed here rejoined the Camino.

I decided to pause here for breakfast and so stopped at a bar to order my usual cafe americano and, today, una tostada con mantequilla y mermelada. A few minutes after sitting down, one of the Australians from last night’s albergue came in and joined me at my table. We’d only spoken briefly yesterday (it was the other Australian who I’d met previously) and so it was good to chat as we ate. Before long, it was time to head back out onto the road.

Most people were dressed for rain, wearing waterproofs and with waterproof covers on their rucksack, or ponchos covering both pilgrim and backpack. There were one or two brief, tentative showers which came to nothing, and the path was soon full of pilgrims stopping to remove layers!

Most of the path led through various woods, with the sunlight breaking through the remaining foliage still attached to the trees.

After 7 or so km, the route of the Camino swung around one end of the runway of Santiago airport. We’d been able to hear the sound of planes taking off intermittently all morning.

Next the path took us to San Paio, where there was a small church dedicated to the relics of (it is said) no fewer than a dozen saints. I collected a sello in my credencial but didn’t stop to count the relics!

Not long after San Paio, we came to Lavacolla, a village where medieval pilgrims would wash themselves in the river, in order to present themselves clean on arrival in Santiago. Rather than adhering to this custom, I stopped for an early lunch of a mixed sandwich. My stop was timely, as the heavens opened with a heavy shower for at least 5 or so minutes whilst I was eating.

I set off once more after the rain had stopped and found the river on the far side of the current village. Instead of washing in the river, I took advantage of a man offering melted wax sellos beside the bridge.

The Camino climbed away from Lavacolla to a hilltop on which 2 local Galician TV stations had studios and broadcast centres (one with a big antenna).

After a few twists and turns, we came next to San Marcos, a tiny village with a couple of bars. In part seeking to spin out these last kilometres, I was deliberately taking my time, and so took another short break, this time for a cup of tea.

Just past San Marco, is the Monte do Gozo (Hill of Joy) which contains a large holiday village complex and park, including a huge open air theatre area where Pope John Paul II conducted a mass in 1993 for World Youth Day.

Taking a slight detour off the main Camino led to the Pilgrim Monument (see earlier post) which is meant to be the first point from which pilgrims catch sight of the cathedral. You can in fact see the spires just a few metres off fhe Camino, at the very edge of the park, rather than walking the extra 600m across to the monument. Perhaps that’s why so few pilgrims appeared to go to the monument- there was certainly no one else nearby when I was there. The signage is also poor, although the guidebooks and apps highlight this as something worth doing.

Although still more than 4km away (and therefore a good hour or so to go), it was a moving sight to see the baroque spires of the cathedral. After taking the obligatory photographs, I continued through the park to rejoin the Camino just before it crossed the AP-9 motorway and then a dual carriageway on the outskirts of the city. The Camino enters the city through the suburb of San Lazaro.

Eventually, following now the scallop shells set into the pavement (and few signposts), we were led into the old city. Once, I caught a glimpse of the cathedral spires, but my attention was drawn to the happy, but weary faces of pilgrims who, having been into the city, were now coming back, perhaps to their accommodation. As I entered the old city, I bumped into a few friends - the Spanish doctor and Croatian couple - who wished me well in my last few streets.

Following the scallop shells set into the pavement wasn’t easy amongst the mingling crowds of tourists and pilgrims. At last, I could hear the sound of the Galician pipes, which I knew meant the Praza do Obradoiro (in Gallego, the Galician language) or the Plaza del Obradoiro (Spanish) was close.

Suddenly the arch way and piper appeared on my left, and I was there - see my separate arrival post for what happened next.

I stayed for a while in the square, soaking up the atmosphere, before deciding it was time to find my accommodation, about a 5 minute walk away. I’m staying a slightly more upmarket albergue which is also a pension, although I’m in a shared room for just 4, and the albergue has granted my request for a bottom bunk!

After checking in, I wandered back towards the cathedral and promptly met my former Triacastela bunk mate from Seattle. We caught up our arrival experiences and decided to find somewhere to get a drink overlooking the Praza do Obradoiro. We ended up chatting to a couple from near Belfast, who had finished the Camino Portugués the day before.

After a couple of Tinto de Veranos, we found ourselves a tapas bar, and enjoyed a delicious selection of cold meats and local cheeses, all washed down with Spanish wine.Baca lagi