After spending my 'explore Spain' day in bed, sleeping, I was over Santiago. The rain, the impersonal feel of the damp, grey city, how I felt. This was not what I had expected it to be.
I had failed on getting my pedicure or massage. Failed on doing the pilgrim ritual in the Cathedral including hugging a beautiful statue of St James and just felt rotten.
My plan was to go to Finisterre the next day. That day, I received an email from Gigi, my french Canadian friend. Her and her Canadian friend, Bev, had ended up separating and she was arriving in Santiago the next day. She asked if she could come to Finisterre with me. Well of course I was fine with this, the company would be amazing, but I didn't want her to miss out on her pilgrim mass or receiving her compestela, or just 'enjoying' Santiago. She insisted this was fine and said that she would arrive around 1130am. The bus for Finisterre left at 1pm, and I needed to check out by 12pm. It was going to be close, but why the heck not!
By the evening, I was still tired, but feeling hungry having not eaten all day. I had found an Indian restaurant over the road - 'Punjabi'. It was a cute place run by a husband and wife who both spoke english. They both knew of Tasmania (the cricket, of course!) and shared my disbelief at how the spanish don't like or serve spicy food! Indian may not have been the best 'first food of the day on a weak stomach' choice, but it smelt so good! I watched Moulin Rouge in spanish - not half as bad as Doctor Dolittle! I slept for 13hours that night and the next day, I woke feeling better! - yeah, even I was surprised at this!
I left the hotel around 8am wanting to get some shopping done, visit the Cathedral, potentially squeeze in a massage and do all the things I had wanted to, but hadn't be able to. But nope. Spain doesn't open until 10am! So I walked around in the rain for a few hours, taking it all in, working on some patience that the Camino had obviously not yet taught me.
10am rolled around, everything was opening. I ran around quickly, buying some clothes for Holland - jeans and a top! Bought some Pjs - never needed any on Camino - may need some in Holland! And wanted to buy some souvenirs... This really disappointed me. The shops are all the same. I guess I should have realised that Santiago would be commercialised like this. I couldn't find anything special, however, I was feeling rushed needing to meet Gigi.
At 11am I went to the Cathedral square. I figured she would be there sooner. She was a fast walker and when you are on your last day, you find a pace you never thought you had!
The square was crowded, but there she was. I screamed (yep, loud, high pitched, girl type) out her name! We hugged like old friends. We were old friends. We relished in our moment for a minute, but then it was time to get moving so we could make it to Finisterre!
She had already been to get her certificate, so we were on our way. We got back to my hotel and received our instructions on which bus to take where. It would take 2 busses - one to the main station, then one for a 3 hour journey.
It was strange sitting on something that moved you. This was the first form of transport I had been on apart from my own legs for a month now. It felt odd, but good, but weird - like 'cheating' or something! After all, it would have only taken us 2 hours to walk to the main station, then 3 days to walk to Finisterre!
We left for our first bus, number 5 at 1210pm - cutting it a little fine. We found the little bus stop, then straight away, bus number 5 rolled up! Bingo! We boarded that and it took us to the main station. First leg, success! We found the ticket counter at the main station and purchased the tickets, €22 each. Purchased at 1250pm, tick! Our bus turned up at 1pm and we boarded! We were away... Off to the edge of the world! Off to see the ocean. I hadn't seen the ocean for 35 days. I did miss it. During the camino, I would look out and see off in the distant horizon, a dark line. My instant thought was, 'Oh, that's the ocean!', but then needed to correct myself with my geography! Now I will get to smell the salt air!
Within 2 hours, the bus was passing beautiful little seaside villages, that seemed to flow down the steep mountain sides and spill onto the sand. This is how I had always imagined Spain.
Finisterre came into view. It was a little larger than the others, and beautiful. Gigi and I jumped out of the bus, full of excitement! First stop was coffee and food.
Gigi and I had learned along the Camino that there are 3 things a pilgrim must do in Finisterre. 1. Watch the sunset, 2. Have a photo with the 0.0km sign, 3. Burn something. The lighthouse was the point of the sign and where we would see the sunset. I had heard that there was accommodation there, but I didn't know how much it would be - figured it would be a little more than the humble pilgrim was used to! ... But... for some reason, somehow, Gigi and I had managed to already ease our pilgrim conscience, saying that it was the end of the camino, so a splash out wouldn't hurt!
We went to find a cafe with wifi so I could check this lighthouse out! Turns out there are only 6 rooms and they were all booked out. The kind man at the cafe told us this when I gave up looking on the Internet and asked him to call. He came over and recommended a hotel, saying he would reserve for us, then drive us there! Wow! This was great - almost too great, but we went along with it! We finished our meals, took a walk, and then, as promised, the cafe owner drove us there.
It was beautiful. An old homestead situated 200m from the beach. It was clean and homely.
We checked in then made our way to the water... This would be a cool fresh final end of walking with purpose. The wind was harsh and the waves were fierce, and the sun glared, reflecting off the water. Together we walked into the water, arms around each other. The sand felt harsh on my feet. They are now harder in some places due to the blisters, but overall they are softer than when I begun due to all the moisturizing and massaging I have been giving them! We got to the water... It felt...well... FREEZING! But amazing too.
We spent some time here. Our plan, initially, was to relax here tonight, then walk to the lighthouse tomorrow as it was 3km away. We stood there in silence on the beach... right... so what now? It was 730pm. I turned to Gigi, "It's only 730pm, we still have another 2 1/2 hours of light! How would you feel about walking to the light house?". Gigi smiled, "Ah, why not!" Yep, mostly only pilgrims decide that walking 6km at 730pm at night 'just cause' is a good idea!
We walked, reminiscing about the past month. It was relaxing and good to walk. I had been walking around the city for the past few days, but not this sort of walking. I wasn't sure what sort of sunset we would get as the weather had been switching between intense sun and complete cloud cover with rain all day. But we had nothing to lose, chancing a break in the cloud when the sun hit the horizon.
We passed the 0.0km sign. Photo taken - tick!
We sat in a restaurant and waited for our second item on the list of 'Things to do in Finisterre', to see the sunset. I kept running outside and taking photos of the ever changing scene. The ocean looked like a silvery blue crushed velvet rug and my eyes became lost trying to look for it's end point. The lighthouse was situated out on a narrow point, giving me the impression I was fully surrounded by it. The sun reflected a golden light off it's crinkled surface and scattered rays throughout the thick clouds. It was incredible to watch. Finally, the sun disappeared behind a thick wall of cloud which sat on the horizon, blocking the final 'setting' part. It was 945pm at this point, so time to leave before it got too dark. We had seen the best bit of the sunset and I was happy with this! Sunset - tick!
We walked back to our hotel and settled into a very satisfied sleep. The next day we woke, as most pilgrims do, around 6am. Breakfast wasn't going to be served until 9am, so it was off to the beach again. The water had not yet let go of yesterday's fury, but the blue cloudless sky promised sun and perhaps some warmth.
After the beach and breakfast, we decided that Finisterre was done. The burning of an item of clothes would have to be left off the list. This was not important anyway. I have limited clothing and had struggled all camino thinking of which piece I should burn. I could not make economical or finacial sense of it - these things all cost me a fortune!
The clouds had rolled in once more. We boarded the bus just as it started to rain.
Back in Santiago, the streets were their usual shiny wet selves. We arrived at the train station around 2pm. There was a restaurant here, and it looked as good as any for lunch. It was here that I tried my first hamburger in so long. And it was incredible! The taste, the grease, the chips that I piled in it! Oh my. Amazing! Yes, I am easily pleased!
We got a taxi back to the hotel I had stayed at previously and re-booked it again for our mornings journey to the airport.
Gigi and I, once more ventured in to the city. We were going to the Cathedral to hug the statue of St James and to view his crypt, 2 things I had really wanted to do. Gigi also had some shopping to complete.
First we went to the Cathedral. There were not many people inside, so this made the line-ups short and the time you got to spend there less rushed. The first port of call was the statue. The statue of St James stood behind the central alter of the cathedral overlooking the main centre isle. I stood behind him, I placed my hands on his cold, golden, jewel embossed cloak. There I stood, giving thanks for the many things that I had experienced on my journey -health (a stomach bug was not much compared to some), the friends I had met, for safety and protection and for the subtle lessons I had learned.
I stepped down, my feet slipping into the well worn grooves on the steps many have walked on before me. I turned the corner and walked down some more steps into a dark room which sat below the central naive of the Cathedral. Here, at the end of a small dimly lit tunnel, sat a white box lined with intricate silver patterns. It looked out of place in its dark stone tunnel, but regal nonetheless. Here lay the remnants of St James. I felt humbled being here. I thought of all the pilgrims that had walked my journey, but having to battle disease, thieves, and poor conditions with little food or shelter, but drawn by faith alone to honor the Saint. This sort of faith is one that no pilgrim I met seemed to have and nor did I. I came for selfish reasons - knowing that the impact the Camino would have on me would be positive at the least, providing me a renewed appreciation and perspective on life. This experience inside the Cathedral meant a lot to me. It was the full stop on my Camino.
Walking out of the Cathedral, I heard a familiar voice. It was Richard, my pole angle! The man who had given his walking pole to me when I had mine stolen. I hugged him, and told him that I had given it back to the Camino. He was happy with this outcome.
Gigi and I enjoyed a dinner at a table with table cloth and a good wine.
As we made our way back to the hostel, we met up with Michael, the Irishman with the cat. He had walked the entire Camino based on the generosity of other pilgrims... makes for a pretty amazing journey.
This was my last evening in Santiago. I was ready to go. I am ready to see my friends, my family and get back to the world again - with the little changes that have been made within and the space that has been created. It's now time to plan so that I can ensure this space is put to good use on my return.
Walking 800km over 33 days in a foreign country without anything much familiar around you sure teaches you about yourself. A few lessons and truths for me from my Camino....
1. The race comes from the same place as the peace.
To begin with, I would walk at my maximum speed. This was a combination of wanting to get to my destination early enough to ensure a bed, but also, undeniably, a competitive streak coming out. I was getting frustrated when people passed me, feeling annoyed at my body when it could not keep up with my mind, and feeling jealous of the slow walkers because they seemed to be 'enjoying' themselves even though others were over taking them! I remember one lady I met in my first couple of weeks while walking to Puenta la Reina. She wandered from one side of the path to the other, touching the flowers, placing her hands on the bark of the olive trees, running her fingers through the wheat along the side of the road. I watched her and couldn't understand how, at just 5km from the destination town, could she be so 'chilled'. But she was. The thing is, the only person in my race was me. And I lost every time. This time the woman took to walk was a choice she made. This force to rush was just residue of my life back home, something I no longer needed. It was habit. I then started breathing between my footsteps, listening to the rhythm of my feet, smelling the air (not the little farm towns!) and taking a moment on the steep sections to stop and look around. This did not come natural, nor did it become habit, but it was a choice I made, and it felt good.
2. My mind has it's place.
Although I found that my mind was able to help me by wondering off on different journeys to distract me from the present pain, I also found that the mind could some days be my worst enemy. I am sure that people who suffer mental illness will testify to this!
The thing is, I discovered that my mind, although extremely influential over me, is not the control centre. When my mind was telling me that I couldn't keep going, that I was tired, that I didn't sleep well the night before and that the pain I felt in my leg and in my blisters was simply unbearable, I could hush this voice and just keep walking. My strength wasn't in my mind, it was within me. It's hard to explain, but I think our minds are given far too much credit for a force that can trick us, turn against us and follow processes that can be detrimental to us. Our mind is secondary. We, ourselves are a much greater force, with much more control than most of us think. We control the choice of our attitudes, and our minds control the attitude we choose.
I experienced the difficult and long process of taming my mind during my 10 day vipassana mediation course last year. I couldn't believe how 'wild' our minds are. They exist freely, roaming where ever, whenever they like, during sleep and throughout our waking moments. To train my mind to focus, to settle, to concentrate and even at times to shut off is something that I dont do enough of. Feeling the strength of my mind over my body during the walk made me realise just how much I should be meditating more.
3. So be it.
We are at the place we are meant to be at the time we are there. This was hard to reconcile with when the rain came bucketing down as I was walking, but it is true. Just enjoy where you are, and if you are not enjoying it, change it, or if you cant change it, know that change is inevitable anyway. Smiling while the mud clung to my boots and my feet slid out from beneath me was so exhilarating! 'Complaining' and getting annoyed seems to be a default reaction. But oh, to let that go and know that we are where we are meant to be is the only way to live! Enjoy what you have, where you are, right in this moment!
4. Pain is temporary.
The Camino taught me a lot about pain tolerance. That there are pains that can be ignored, cant be ignored and shouldn't be ignored. At the end of the day, I simply needed to accept that the pain is temporary and walk on.
5. Act first and foremost with love.
This is hard! And its not limited to how we act with others, but, arguably of more importance, how we deal with ourselves too.
Compassion, love and empathy are too often a secondary reaction with judgement being the first. Assume nothing, act in love.
My lovely papa gave me the New Testament for my 'spiritual first aid'. The day that I had lost Sylvia, I picked it up and found this verse:
"Be on your guard; stand firm in the faith; be men of courage; be strong. Do everything in love." 1 Corinthians 16 v 3... This verse became my personal challenge for the rest of the journey and I shared it with many.
Love is a theme on the Camino. The very sign of the Camino is a shell. It represents a lot and the meaning if it and its connection with Santiago is still not clear. One belief is that the shell is like that of an open hand to receive when facing up and giving when facing down. This is Camino. Receiving and giving in love with generosity, selflessness and of greatest value, time.
6. I will always lose my breath.
I remember one morning, leaving my small town and embarking on an uphill climb on my way to the '100km left to Santiago' sign. I started the uphill battle in my legs and lungs. I started to think, "I have walked 700km now, surely this should get easier!" But I now know that even after 800km, I still lose my breath up hills.
The difference is now that I am more resilient to the pain and the recovery is much faster. I now don't expect to ever climb a hill without panting. Even after 700km, I was still getting new blisters. No matter how similar the routines are, my body is still changing.
I think that I have had this belief that in life that after I do the same thing over again, it's going to be easier. I have heard people say "Isn't it that the older we get the easier life should be?" This is not the case. Again, we are a surrounded by impermanence. In life, my body will change, my circumstances will change. I am always going to encounter mountains that take my breath and make my muscles ache, but then, I will be stronger for the next one! I could go on to make some cliché comment about how every time I lost my breath, I knew an amazing view awaits me at the end of the struggle, but I think you get my point!
7. The open mind, the full cup.
On the Camino, some days I could simply retreat within myself and walk. Other days I would talk to pilgrims from all walks of life, nationalities, ages, cultures. Some would walk with you for a moment, others for a few hours and some would stay by your side for days. Whichever, I was able to listen to them and learn from them. On the Camino, despite our differences, our common purpose bound us at a level where open and trusting conversation took place between complete strangers. There were pilgrims that irritated me, intrigued me, drew me in and caused me to keep my distance. But all... every single one of them had something for me to learn from if I gave them the time and simply listened to their story. Some were profound stories of survival. Some where a simple want for the walk. Everyone is a teacher if as long as I am prepared to learn.
8. Patience and tolerance.
The Camino taught me that I am still learning both of these - and perhaps, patience especially, is still very much out of reach! :)
However, I want to take this opportunity to congratulate you on your patience and tolerance! I have sometimes read back on these blogs and have noticed the horrid spelling and grammatical and even formatting mistakes, errors and just complete stuff ups! I would like to blame my iPad keyboard, the fatigue of writing at the end of the day - (some days more than others) and my grade 2 teacher for not spending enough time with me on correct placement of commas!
But thank you... I know that there have been school teachers read this, family members with high standards in English and other 'anally retentive' dear friends read this and no one has said a word - your tolerance is much appreciated!
9. Me, myself and I.
One dear pilgrim friend of mine was on a journey to learn to be comfortable in his own company, sober, while on the pilgrimage - ironically enough, in this instance, most of the time I saw him, he was walking with others or came and walked with me! This whole 'learn to be ok in your own company' was a conversation that repeated a few times during the Camino. I was one of only a few who walked solo. It seemed that more often, the pilgrim's would walk with partners, friends or in a family group. I encountered a few raised eyebrows when they learned I was alone.
Comfort in solitude and peace in only the sound of your breathing is something that many avoid. I don't understand how they can not be at peace in their own company? Perhaps they are so irritating that they irritate themselves? I spoke to one gentleman about this when he confessed that he wanted always to be in the company of females. I spoke to him about learning to love his own company - then there is no 'need' for someone else, rather a 'healthier' want!
Silence truly is golden and your own company, at least I find, is sometimes the most intelligent you will find around! (joking!)
10. The holiest of holy...
I have had the pleasure of entering and admiring up close the incredible handy work of man in the ancient Cathedrals and Monasteries. They are truly breathtaking, but for me, they miss the point. They are an honor to the hand of man - to their creativity, their craftsmanship, their skill and their genius - but as for cultivating a spiritually inspiring 'air', I didn't feel it. I have always, and will continue to believe that spirituality is found where His hand crafted the mountains, the valleys, the flowers, the trees, the clouds, the skies and the oceans - here I am humbled, at peace and nearer to Him.
11. We can always do with less - and here you will find the most.
On Camino, simplification and minimalisation was one of the first lessons I learnt as I packed my bag at home. And I continued to learn as I sent home 2.7kg of 'stuff'. There is the material side of simplification, but also in the things that satisfy us.
I am part of a generation of consumers who had mostly had everything they need at their fingertips - a shower, a hot shower at that, a bed, accessible food, medical assistance at hand etc etc - these are classed as 'basic necessities'... the Camino took the 'basic' out of these necessities and added a 'to be grateful for' at the end.
As I wondered the streets of Santiago waiting for the shops to open, I found a art gallery. In it was a picture of a painted black figure standing at the top of a staircase with the following text: "There are no longer social classes, rather levels of consumption." I think this is very true.
... And finally,
12. In-spi-ra-tion; Noun; 1. The process of mental stimulation to do something.
It is plastered all over my Facebook wall - many of my friends (probably you!) have written and told me that this is inspirational, that I am inspirational... Well, in that case, it's your turn. If you are true in what you say, then I expect many of you to start doing your own adventures that further inspire others...
...this journey has been incredible.
Thank you for walking this Camino with me - your coffee cups in hand and slippers on your feet, sitting on your comfy chairs! ;) Even though the distance has been physically huge, your comments, messages, texts and phone calls have meant I may have walked in the company of my own shadow, but with many of you close to me... I cannot express in words alone how many of you have helped me to get up each of the 32 mornings and walk.
Can't wait to be home and to talk and hug and maybe have a small cry with my friends, my family, and one very special, well-missed little girl.
I will leave you with this thought I found. Camino is like life. It is just one step at a time...
"Watch your way then, as a cautious traveler and don't be gazing at that mountain or river in the distance and saying, "How shall I ever get over them?" but keep to the present little inch that is before you and accomplish that in the little moment that belongs to it. The mountain and the river can only be passed in the same way and when you come to them you will come to the light and strength that belong to them."
Muchos gracias y adios xxx
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