On to the end of the world

Part III - Or how to cure your self of walking sickness

As with the Vía de la Plata this camino has a choice either on to Finisterre they mythical end of the world or to Muxía the geographic last point of continental Europe.

The guide books, if you trust them, suggest that the camino from Santiago to Finisterre is another 3 days. There are also a least 3 albergues on the route and most recommend starting with just over 20kms to Negreira, then just over 30kms each (supposedly) to Olveiroa and Finisterre.

But be warned because this is the recommended route, expect these albergues to be full and there are other albergues in other towns along the way that can be used to break the trip up and make it more pleasant.

While the guide books describe this section of the camino as pretty much deserted, for us it was the busiest section after the quiet Plata and was strangely almost over-run with Germans. Given many on this section hadn’t seen us on the Camino Francés, most assumed we were newbes and would give us the benefit of

their misplaced wisdom. As most had walked less then half the distance we had this didn’t go down to well… but ever the diplomats we just got up early and walked as usual.

Also expect to find the albergue at Finisterre to be full, mainly with pilgrims who come by bus to see the sun go down into the sea at the end of the world. This albergue is also where you get your completion certificate from, assuming you have walked.

You will also find plenty of those who have come down with chronic walking sickness (an inability to stop walking) and will wax on about continuing along the coast to Muxía, or worse still turn around and start the trip back - the reterno.

Needless to say we didn’t.

Guides

Most guide books include a section on including the Alison Raju Cicerone Guide we used.

If you are interested in this route (or the other caminos) visit:

Santiago de Compostela to Negreira

13 October, 24km walked today - 1034kms total

Up late with coffee and churro to start us on our way. Out

Looking back to Santiago

in the grey of Santiago and along the Rũa das Hortas up the hillside track and through a mix of eucalyptus woods, green country side and small villages. There are less raised grape vines but still plenty of stone hórreo, fuente and lavadero.

Ponte Maceira was the prettiest village on the route with a great bridge and curved presa (weir). A Frenchman joined us as we stopped for photos, pleasant enough chap but he had all the signs of suffering from walking sickness and the sent of someone who had not washed since he left home… he quickly became known as Mr Smelly and it was well deserved!

Going up one of the endless hills we saw the unmistakeable sign of “Macpac” on a group of packs, we greeted our Antipodeans cousins, the first from anywhere “down under” that we have seen on the route.

It was a long and uncomfortable day and we were pleased to slogging on past the pilgrim statue at the entrance to Negreira and then out through the town walls up the hill to the albergue. Across the field was a crowd of geese and the Church of San Xulian. Even if

Raised Grapevines

we had to come back into town later to collect cervessa and food.

While we were one of the first to arrive, the albergue got more then a little tense as it soon became apparent that there were at least 30 pilgrims search for a place with only 20 beds (and a number of overflow tents).

We realised just how luck we have been on the Vía de la Plata where there wasn’t any of this tension. People also were a lot less charitable and demanded that the hospitalero sort things out rather then the usual first come first serve and be happy to have a roof over your head if you end up sleeping on the floor.

The poor woman that ended up next to Mr Smelly soon moved and slept on the floor next to the window!

We counted our blessings as it was still glorious and fine in Galicia on the camino, but raining everywhere else in Spain (most unusual).

Negreira to Olveiroa

13 October, 36km walked today - 1070kms total

Mr Smelly and his party of French woke every one up at 6am and hit the road, we

Galecian Marker

slugged in bed before going out at 7.30am (sick of walking in the dark), 90 minutes later we passed the Aussies we met the previous day and then the French.

Plenty of fuente most announcing the water drinkable - auga potable, and many complete with bench or trough for the convenient immersion of tired feet. Which is just as well, as ours while in good shape are beginning to play up again. They are just tired, had it from walking over hard compacted stony ground.

For about the first time on the trip we are starting to moan (must be the affect of all the other moaning pereginos). Mainly is about being endless diverted down to the bottom of the valley and then up again, often along creeks in the process.

Despite still being sunny, Galicia is still endlessly hilly and damp. It’s also full of cow shit and often you feel like you are walking along a Taranaki dairy run.

Still there was a very friendly bar at A Pena only 7 km from the albergue (just right for breakfast) and plenty of wind turbines on the ridge and glorious views to make the walking

Ponte Maceira

pleasant enough.

The guide books differ on the distance, some say 30, others 34 or more (I stopped looking). The markers tell a confusing story with the meterage going up and down despite our constant movement westward.

We got barked at by the usual crowd of dogs and found another Boxer chained in a yard desperate for a pat. Hel went into chronic Spike with drawl and was heard muttering how he would have loved this trip for the rest of the day.

At the church in San Cristovo de Corzón we were greeted by the usual yellow arrow pointing the way this time past a graveyard… hmm… its worth pointing out that around here the arrows are:

Often double headed (for the reterno) or have an
F for Finisterre as apposed to an
M for Muxia, the best ones to look out for are the
A for Albergue. But watch it because sometimes they are proudly marked
B or just Bar… tempting…

In Olveiroa we were faced with the choice of a bed in a private hospedaje (that also boasted a restaurant and bar) or in the

Which way now?

Olveiroa

new (but built in a collection of old stone houses) Albergue de Pereginos. We opted for the albergue and were rewarded with hot water for a change (we had almost got used to cold showers).

Once clean we went down to the bar for a few cold ones and to admire the coins resting on the stones in the building.

Hel managed to offend the Aussies when they roll in by congratulating them for having made it… to which they snottily replied “was there ever any doubt?” We made a point of keeping our traps shut at that point.

We did have a hilarious incident when one of the Austrian’s tired to return a bra that they had found at the last albergue. It wasn’t Hel’s (she only had one and was wearing it), it turned out to be one of the French, and despite the attempts of a young German to translate the exchange, the Austrian had to pronounce him “useless” and produce the item in question to resolve the matter.

Olveiroa to Finisterre

15 October, 38km walked today - 1108kms total

A great but long days walk. Not too early a

Pilgram Meal

Olveiroa

start and a steady up and down through the day.

We found the café/bar at Hospital open with the bar maid working it for all she was worth ensuring no pilgrim passed without their morning coffee and food for the route. The bar was handily placed just before the double way mark where the camino divides, Finisterre to the left and Muxía to the right.

We went left.

We were soon rewarded with a pointed marker stone, and first view of the sea. First glimpse of the sea for over 5 weeks (since leaving Barcelona and the Med behind us) but this was no quiet internal blue sea, but the great grey Atlantic Ocean.

We descended towards the sea at Cée, sorry bad pun but pretty little fishing town, and then went up over the hill and down again to Sardineiro with its distant view of Cape Finisterre - the end of our journey.

We walked around a seemingly endless bay and then dragged ourselves up and over the hill again to the next bay (we were getting pretty tired of this, more emotionally worn then physically tired really).

At a large pointed way

Roadside Cross

Actually in the middle of the road

mark we diverted yet again off the road and down, this time to the beach and the beginning of the Corredoira de Don Camilo, a beachside esplanade which carries you the last 3kms into Finisterre. We gave up and stopped for lunch, having carried it all the way from Hospital, even though it had started to rain it was good to stop and refuel even though it caused a riot among our feet who had decided that enough was enough and they weren’t going to walk no more.

We forced our rebellious feet forward stamping them on the slate pathway till they gave up complaining, then it was up the last stretch of the walkway and the final ascent to the mirador (viewpoint).

Grey, wet, tired looking. Finisterre looked just like us.

We were too early for the albergue and so picked out the nearest hotel and threw our packs down. Time for postcards and a drink.

Our camino was over, almost, we still had to walk out to the cape and the end of the world. Scott dug out “old blue” and put on the shirt that has featured in so many of our travel photos, the plan was to toss Hel’s scollop

Now which way?

Outside Hospital

shell (stolen - sorry "rescused" off an abandoned German pack back when we did the Camino Francés and carried again on this trip) off the cliff and burn Scott’s shirt.

We waited till the evening and set off to the cape to watch the sun go down. It began to rain and the church bells tolled as the locals marched to the church at the end of town (a funeral).

We walked the last 4 kms and Hel through Shelly down the hill, bouncing off the rocks to sleep with the fishes. However Scott decided it was too wet to burn his shirt so “old blue” gets to live to go on anther trip.

Bloody guide book was wrong to the end. Adding up the distance in the book indicate it is 75km, the camino markers indicate that the whole trip. However the guide author says its 95kms… who knows.

We were expecting around 30kms (doing our steady 5-6kms an hour that’s a 6 hour walk). However by the time we reach the marker split point it is still 29km to Finisterre. In the end we factor in the walk to and back from the cape