Our Walk Along the Camino Finisterre

“We shall not cease from exploration And the end of all our exploring Will be to arrive where we started And know the place for the first time.” T. S. Eliot, “Little Gidding,” Four Quartets Walking Beyond the Ending   When we left Santiago de Compostela in the spring of 2019, we had already arrived. For weeks the yellow arrows of the Camino Portugués had carried us north from Lisbon through Portugal and Galicia toward the Cathedral of Santiago. We had stood beneath its towers, received our Compostela and rested for a couple of days. By every conventional measure, the pilgrimage was finished, and the evident thing to do next would have been to begin the journey home.   Instead, before six in the morning, we put our backpacks on again and returned to the Praza do Obradoiro. The square that normally echoed with arriving pilgrims, tour groups and celebration was almost empty. The moon was still above the Cathedral, whose stone walls glowed in the warm light of the early morning...

Reflecting on the Camino Finisterre “Climb the mountains and get their good tidings. Nature’s peace will flow into you as sunshine flows into trees. The winds will blow their own freshness into you … while cares will drop off like autumn leaves.”   John Muir The final stretch to the “end of the world”… again, and again, and again, and again.   We’ve walked the Camino Finisterre–Muxía four times now - and each time, it has called us back with the same quiet insistence. Though the trails of the Portuguese Central , the Portuguese Coastal and Espiritual routes, the Camino de Madrid , the San Salvador, the Primitivo , and most recently the Via de la Plata and Camino Sanabrés brought us to Santiago, it was always this last stretch - west to Fisterra, then north to Muxía that helped us let go. Though we have also walked to Muxia and then to Fisterra once as well.  In truth either way is wonderful to experience.    This is a trail we love deeply. A rugged, windswept ...

Return to Santiago de Compostela Finisterre Spain We awoke at 6 AM to find a bright sunny day outside, the sun's warmth already beginning to make itself felt. We walked a short distance down the street and stepped into the same bar we had lunch in yesterday. Sitting on the outdoor patio amidst a group of other pilgrims, we enjoyed our coffee, orange juice, and tostada. As we sat there, a very drunk local man approached the patio, intent on striking up a belligerent and slurred conversation in Spanish, but he was firmly shooed away by the proprietor. By 8:30 AM we had finished our breakfast and made our way down to the marina. Colourful row boats floated in the shallow turquoise harbour, and lines of white sailboats were bobbing gently in their moorings. A group of small fish was visible in the crystal-clear water. Across the bay, the hills of Galicia rose and receded into the distance, and behind us, the colourful buildings marched in rows up the hill. We stood at the b...