I am here. At last. A place that I always saw as being so far away - even right up to a few days ago with my head in a toilet.
The sky was overcast. For my first 10km today, there was no rain, no sun and no wind. Calm. And I was alone.
The night before, I had braved the intake of food in the form of a salad sandwich and some freshly squeezed orange juice. It was good and more importantly, it stayed. I got back to my room with high hopes of getting all packed up and showering before sleep, but even after sleeping all day, I couldn't look past my pillow as soon as I got there.
I set my alarm for 5am. I woke to the now unfamiliar disturbance to my blissful silence, in the form of a stupid iPhone alarm tone - marimba!
I paused for a moment, listening to the alarm become seemingly more frantic, considering the 'snooze' button... Wait... With a smile, and the realization that it was Santiago day, I turned off the alarm, lit the room up and turned on the Spanish radio. I have become quite accustomed to this beautiful music with lyrics that I don't understand. They are no longer important to me as they used to be - it seems that the company of instruments is enough for now.
I enjoyed my new found energy and wanted to leave as soon as I could while the adrenaline and excitement lasted! The cafe opened at 6am. I was dressed, smelling fresh and feeling hungry by the time I arrived there at 610am. I had some toast (4 slices, but who was counting!?) and my beloved orange juice and headed out. It was still quite dark. The weather was actually not to dissimilar to the the weather I had experienced on my first day when I arrived in France! I smiled at this thought. Actually, I smiled most of the way!
I felt strong. I felt confident in my body's ability to take me all the way today. My stomach was ok, my legs were keen and in my mind I was positive. Then the 5th km past. I was heading up hill. The puffing kicked in and my legs all of a sudden felt like they were carrying weights (yep, even bigger than my super impressive calves). It was mostly up then a short steep descent in to my Santiago.
I first walked past the airport. I had looked this stage in my book from the early days, never really believing I would get there - I know I sound like I may be exaggerating with my self belief, but I did seriously doubt I would making this far having walked all the way, the only mode of transport being my boots, and allowing nothing but my own back to carry my pack. So my definition of 'getting there' is arriving in the way I had set out to achieve - with no help - except maybe a little from above.
Passing the airports wire security fences didn't allow you to forget the spiritual side of the Camino. Every fence I passed had woven into it's wire, crosses shaped from twigs. It was a beautiful reminder of how many others walked this path, the same smiles on their faces, the same fear of something so familiar coming to an end - the friendships formed, for some, new love, for some, new freedom, for some, relief from an existence they resented and would now have to return to. For me, the fear of not having the time to keep walking... The mind is so clear when the body is healthy. It feels good to be like this. Just need to find a way of sustaining it back in the deep, dark winter of Tasmania!
The pilgrim path started to get busy. The multi-colored hunchbacks were appearing from out of their warm Albergues along the way. Hardly anyone spoke. The graffiti seemed to speak loud enough - some proclaiming faith, others, sheer relief.
I reached the top of my upward climb, and there in the distance, blurry through the light rain and low cloud, lay Santiago. It wasn't how I imagined it. It was industrial looking with big hotels, large advertising and fast, chaotic traffic (most traffic is fast after being on camino!). I didn't care though. It was Santiago.
"Cathedral, 4.7km" read a small sign on a power pole. Yep. Goal was in sight. This city, no matter how grey or bland looking it seemed, was merely the shell that held the 'pearl' of my Camino. The St James Cathedral. I kept walking, entering the damp streets.
"Hola, ¿habla usted español?", a friendly voice asked from my right. I awkwardly turned - turning was hard when you wear a raincoat with hood then strap yourself in tight to a back pack. The graceful neck rotation is more of a challenge than the 'whole body' rotation!
"Hola" I replied, "I speak english". Usually, this response would bring about a disappointed smile and a 'buen camino' at which point they would walk on. Nope, not this time!
"Ah, congratulations then!" the kind gentleman said in his soft Irish accent.
We walked together through the city, him telling me his camino, about the mass, then more important things like climbing Mt Kilimanjaro, Africa's highest peak, standing at 5895masl... How amazing does that sound? Don't focus on the 'kil' and 'man' part if the name, there are heaps of successful summit attempts! ;)
Then he stopped me... "There you are my girl, there's the first peek you get at your cathedral". Indeed it was. Peering over the top of an set of block apartments constructed in the 70's, stood the medieval tower, intricately decorated from its cloud covered peak, down the sides. "Did you want to walk this last bit alone? I won't be offended!", offered my irish friend.
"No," I replied. "Even if I did have any expectations for this last walk, which I didn't, I have learned to take what is given to me, which right now is you, so if it is ok, please walk with me!"
We continued to talk of the camino. He had arrived a few days ago and was on his way to his hotel. He had walked the camino once from St Jean and this time from Leon. We arrived at the gates to the main square. Then he said the magic, or not so magic words.
"Your mum would be so proud of you!"
Yep. You guessed. I stopped. Through my irritating high pitched crying voice, I asked, "Is it natural for this to happen at this point?". He held me, and apologised for using 'the' words. Tears streamed down my cheeks. It was relief that overwhelmed me, relief and happiness. I had made it. We continued walking through the grey stone arch together just as the church bells rang for 10am - not a bad walking time really!
He took my photo outside the cathedral, one on my camera and one on his - I think I appear on a few randoms cameras for simply being 'Tasmanian' - I don't get the celebrity status that comes with that!? Perhaps I should have been charging for them?
We parted and he pointed me roughly in the direction of the pilgrims office. I had been told that there would be around an hours wait in a cue to receive my 'compestela', my certificate. This menial inconvenience bothered me not in my state of euphoria! I would get there and absorb the atmosphere! ... But there was a problem - getting there. I was getting more lost than getting there! After wandering for around 1/2h, euphoria dissipating, frustration quickly taking over, hulk style, I found a couple of camino pilgrims who had arrived the day before. I pointed me back a few blocks, to the right, then the left etc. I finally found it, and was ushered straight through to my officer.
A dark head of hair greeted me. I waited a moment before making a slight 'clearing ones throat' noise. The man looked up. 'Hola! May I have your passport and credential?" he asked. I smiled so widely inside. I am not the discriminative type, but I can't help but see humor in people at times. He was a sweet man, very kind, but was so cross eyed, with the thickest bottle cap glasses on, that I felt more comfortable talking to his nose, rather than his eyes, for fear of confusing which one was actually looking at me. Oh this was a lovely moment. I am the 565th Australian to walk in to Santiago this year. I realised that my arrival date was exactly one month until my birthday. All of these little details meant something to me. He explained that the certificate was written in latin, even my name, in keeping with tradition. He informed me that 'Jessica' is Scottish. Perhaps I didn't need to walk camino to learn about myself - I just had to talk to this man and his nose! He gave my credential it's final stamp - the stamp of the St James Cathedral. And gave handed it back, along with the beautiful looking Compestela. I paid 1€ to have it rolled and stored in a tube, and with this secured in my hand, I left with a 'cat who got the mouse' type stride!
I walked out into the rain. I had booked my accommodation which was not supposed to be far away. At this point, it was around 1040am. I figured with the mass starting at 12, it would be better if I found a good seat in the cathedral and simply absorbed it all. The quiet reflection time would be good.
I began walking up the grey, shiny stone steps. I looked at my walking pole. It had been given to me by the generosity of a stranger, but it was not mine. So I left it there, on the steps, handing it back to the Camino.
I continued climbing. Inside the cathedral, pilgrims, tour groups and devout Catholics all mixed in a big clutter in front of the central naive. I found a seat and bowed my head. It was time for reflection.
After a while, I thought I would message my Dad to tell him I had safely arrived at my destination. A moment or two after sending the message, my phone started vibrating, he was calling! In my excitement, I fumbled with the damn thing and missed his call. I called him back, and pretty much straight away broke down. Hearing his familiar loving voice was like stepping into a warm, homely room after a long time of standing in the cold and rain. His was the first voice that I had heard since leaving Australia, so long ago. I then spoke to his wife, Helen and managed to position myself in front of the webcam so that they could both see me... It was so exciting. I said my farewells as the church officials were starting to move the tourists so that everyone was in place for the mass. I just sat there in my seat, the odd tear rolling down my cheek. It was surreal. I was actually awaiting my... 'my' pilgrim mass.
A small nun stood in front of a microphone and quietly spoke in Spanish. Then she started to sing, encouraging the already seated pilgrims to sing as well. I know this is cliché, but her voice truly was angelic. Like smooth whipped butter lightly and gently flowing through the cathedral (the non-dairy type of course!). It was beautiful. Then a priest stood and in a husky voice read out the list of pilgrims who were in attendance by mentioning their starting place and their nationality. I heard St Jean Pied de Port and then 'Australiana'... That was me! I smiled. Yep. Made it!
They did not use the giant incense burner, the 'Botafumeiro'...this weighs around 160kg and is the heaviest in the world. It was originally used to fumigate the often disease ridden and smelly pilgrims. Apparently we didnt smell enough and it didn't matter to me - nothing really mattered!
After the mass was over, I looked around for some family faces. It was then that I met up with a Dutch group I had met earlier on my Camino. A mother and son walking on their 60th and 40th birthday years, and a few other dutchies they had picked up along the way. I am not being biased at all when I say that the Dutch are a lovely people. I have had them to compare with many nationalities, and they are just so friendly and open. We all hugged and kissed and decided that a coffee was in order. Over coffee, it was decided that we would all meet at 530pm to watch Holland vs Denmark playing soccer, then get some dinner. After this appointment was made, I needed to go. I had a date with my hotel room and then in front of a webcam.
I started walking in the general direction, but decided it was safer to ask where my place was. After all, all the advertising said is was around the cathedral square. It wasn't. I asked 3 people of my journey. By 150pm, I knew I would miss my dance. I was so disappointment. I was saturated, tired of carrying my pack and just wanted to meet this commitment. But I couldn't.
Finally, with the help of a comic book store owner, he told me that my hotel was in the street parallel to his. Yay! I continued walking. In very small letters, I read the name. There were some glass doors. I entered them. But no reception. There were letter boxes, an elevator, closed doors and some stairs. 'Perhaps the reception is on the 1st floor', I thought to myself. I climbed the first set of stairs...nothing. I climbing the second set, nothing, and the third set, just to confirm that there was nothing. I walked back down. Now I was really frustrated! Who would design a hotel with no reception and no directions on how to get there. And how had I made my way through Spain and the most lost I had been was in a damn hotel! I then looked at the letterboxes. 'Hotel' was written on the box for floor 6. Yep, this was the only indication that a hotel existed. I made my way there, got my key, found my room, dumped my pack and sat.
What a journey it had been. How is it that 33 days have passed on Camino? It seems so much shorter than that. If you told me I had been walking for 14 days, that seems feasible, but not 33... That's ridiculous! Ridiculous, but true.
There are other things I want to write, but will leave it hear for now. There will be more blogs. I am off to Finisterre tomorrow - the edge of the world! Can't wait! I will have to write about that! Santiago and Finisterre both had rain forecast for the next 3 days... I guess I am getting acclimatized for Tasmania now!
I guess I have just ones more point... In Santiago you get to see the bonds that have been formed on Camino - both the sweet kind and the infidelity kind. I am happy to have not been in close company with those who decided to be unfaithful on Camino. I cannot judge them as this is their own personal experience. I feel that my journey was untainted by all things really - drugs, excessive alcohol, fraternising... I think this made for a more serious Camino for me, which I guess is what I always wanted/expected it to be. ... And there's always the upcoming days in Amsterdam for all that! Haha! (to all my motherly figures out there, block your eyeballs!)
Enough from me now... I have some shopping to do and a pedicure to source!
Camino completo :)
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