Day 41, Santiago de Compostella

Well, the Camino continued to challenge us to the end. Fiona and I had the worst night’s sleep since we set out on 24 May. It was a really hot evening and, as usual, we had the window open but when we settled down to sleep we became tormented by the buzzing of a vociferous mosquito around our heads. Eventually Fiona was bitten. Lights on, she found the culprit creeping on the wall and, though usually a friend to all living creatures, she smashed it without mercy using my Camino guidebook. I’m sorry to say her blood oozed from the dead mosquito and splattered the bedroom wall. We closed the window despite the stifling heat and tried to settle down again only to discover a companion mosquito was still with us. We couldn’t see this one despite lots of effort on our part and had to sleep with heads under the sheets for protection. The heat was unbearable.
So, when we set out around 7am, I felt dazed and slightly unwell as I always do when seriously sleep-deprived.
We stopped for our last breakfast together on the road in a lovely little cafe opposite the church of San Paio in the village of the same name. Here we met up with Anna who walked the rest of the way with us. My guidebook had said that first 15 kms of the walk would be green and enjoyable despite skirting the airport and approaching a city but the final 5km was fairly urban. This was helpful expectation management because I braced myself for a difficult few kilometres at the end and was pleasantly surprised. Emotionally I felt in a state of suspension for the final hour -knowing this was momentous but finding it hard to define what I felt.
The sun came out as we entered Plaza do Obradoiro to see the Cathedral of Santiago - the end of the pilgrimage for 1000 years.
We cried, took a few obligatory photos (though we failed to get one of the two of us together), lay down for a while and then went off to the pilgrim’s office to get our certificate where Fiona was so tearful that she got a hug from the official there before being processed.
We stopped at the little chapel on our way out where they were showing a slide show encouraging reflection on the experience of the Camino. It ended with a very familiar Irish blessing which sent me into floods of tears. It may well seem pretty cliched:

May the road rise up to meet you
May the wind be always at your back
May the sun shine warm upon your face
The rains fall soft upon your fields
And until we meet again
May God hold you in the palm of his hand.

The blessing obviously had resonance for all of us who’d spent so much time on the road exposed to the elements (the need for rain on our fields perhaps less relevant) and subject to so many meetings, brief friendships and multiple partings.
However, it touched me to the core because it reminded me powerfully of my mother. She’d had a copy of this blessing in her prayer book and I had read it at her funeral. All her life she wanted Marion and me to share her faith because she thought it was the most important gift you could have and I had always responded with rational rejection. I really don’t know where I am faith-wise at the end of this Camino but I do feel more open to some kind of spiritual experience than ever before and I know how happy that would make her. For some reason this made me very weepy.
Fiona and I were shattered when we got to our hotel and slept heavily for a couple of hours. Then, after showering, we went off to the cathedral for the pilgrim mass.
Many people report that this is the pinnacle of their Camino and find the service deeply moving. At some services they swing the botafumeiro (a giant incense dispenser) and everyone gets excited about seeing this.
I was a little troubled when a man in a security uniform told us all the things we weren’t allowed to do during the service in the half hour we were waiting for it to begin. The mass itself was well done with an amazing bass singer leading the music. However, I was horrified that before communion the security guard came to the microphone to say only catholics could receive communion and then only if in a state of Grace. There was no invitation for non-Catholics to receive a blessing (which is the least the church can offer and is common practice everywhere else). It meant that Fiona, who had walked 800kms was excluded from being blessed at the main pilgrim mass and I felt a familiar fury at the stupidity and arrogance of the Church. All along the Camino local priests had been inclusive and inspiring. At the final destination it seemed to me the Santiago hierarchy blew that goodwill by reverting to the exclusive mentality which I have always objected to in Catholic thinking. I went to communion and wished I hadn’t. I should say that nobody else seemed to be offended by this. Others were disappointed the botafumeiro wasn’t swung. We’ve been told it happens more often at the noon mass and only then when a group of pilgrims pay for the spectacle. I felt double disgust and resolved not to attend another service at the cathedral despite the general consensus that this was the peak of the whole experience.
We went to dinner with Anna. Bella, our beautiful young Australian friend came along too, bringing with her a middle-aged Italian journalist who appeared to be lusting after her. We ate healthy vegetarian food and stumbled back to the hotel to sleep.
Although we have now reached the final destination I am going to write one final blog to round things off tomorrow because this has been such a day of emotion confusion and I would like to try to make more sense of things before signing off.Читать далее