Watching our clothes go around and around. I’m currently in the lavandaría, doing the laundry. Tim is Museum hopping. Only €8 and all our clothes are clean and dry; no ironing though. This morning I thought we’d be removing vomit from our clothes after the long erratic bus ride around the Costa Del Morte. Aptly named the Coast of Death, I now realise it’s all about the bus. I’d been advised to sit up the front but it was pointless. The driver swung into the endless corners, and stopped and started so savagely, that I thought he was on a time incentive. Reading was a bad start, as the lurches and jerks hit you without notice. Then I tried to lean into the bends, but that only works on a motorcycle. Just burp constantly, Steve, and ... read more

Albergue Monte Aro. The newest Albergue on the Camino Finisterre serves two functions. It provides the friendliest reception for tired, wet travellers on this route, and more importantly, it breaks up a 31km day so that the Way to Finisterre, the end of many pilgrims camino, is not rushed. The weather predicted for today was showers, then rain, followed by showers. Not very promising but the showers held off for the first hour. Before leaving the village, a small cat joined our team, and despite my passive aggressive efforts, she stuck with us until befriending 2 large dogs who, after a bit of mutual sniffing, were better company than us. Despite strolling down the centre of the road and playing ‘chicken’ with a large truck and various cars, this cat now resides on a cattle farm. ... read more

How soon we forget. Being woken at 5am by 2 young girls who must have good reasons to be up at this time. Walking into the dark, hoping it won’t rain. It rains. Stopping for someone to check his feet for blisters. Making your bed up with paper pillowcase and sheets, after a long uphill walk. Pulling your t-shirt over a wet back because your towel is too small to dry properly. It sticks to your skin. Just some of the pleasures of a days hiking on the Camino. I don’t remember going downhill today but we must have. One long steep hill challenged a group of cyclists who ground through the cogs, too exhausted to acknowledge our consideration at standing aside while they chose the easiest path. Downhill is their reward. Tim went well for ... read more

All is not lost. Last night, after an excited band of travellers at the end, or start, of their journey, had the big picture taken, we retired to a bar just off the Plaza, to share stories, say goodbyes, and meet a couple of people I had seen but never met. There were three generations gathered , with one purpose in mind. To celebrate having walked 779kms across Spain. Some will go home, others will pursue the last 117kms to Finisterre and Muxia. Jesper and Anton are the youngest at 19, a few are in their 40’s, and a few of us follow at the rear in our ‘twilight years’. I met an ex New York firefighter who had to retire after suffering a broken neck. Personal relationships dissolved and, at 42, he is walking to ... read more

Meet at the Rooster on the corner at 6.30. It’s not code. It’s a statue of a Rooster. The meeting point. Today was very different. First, I woke to an alarm, and second, the destination of Santiago was no longer a goal. We all arrived. O Pedrouzo was chilly at 6.30 am but I didn’t notice. I had a date with Santiago. Leaving in the dark was nothing new, but we were looking at, or I should say, not looking at, no daylight for the first 2 hours of our walk. A full moon providing the first light, we approached Arenal, and Janet and I waited at a breakfast bar for the others. Too long. We wandered back, and found a roughly assembled search party scouring the roadside for Lisa’s phone. Kids, what do you do ... read more