St Irene to Santiago De Compostella

We left early in the morning around 7.30am. At this point it had become an almost mechanical process of repacking what had been unpacked, getting oneself together and then going for it. By this point I had one day left of vaseline for my feet, and the antibacterial cream from Lugo was gone. Also I was running low on ibuprofen and paracetemol so it was Santiago 22.4km away according to my guide book or at least a pit stop somewhere during the day.

We didn't have to travel long to get to our first pit stop, coffee and tostada smeared with strawberry jam before hitting the road again. We wouldn't be making too many stops today, but I still managed to get a stamp rather early on from a church on the way. It was nice to see some of them actually open for pilgrims, as this had been a rarity on the path from Oviedo. Then our next big target was a monument on the way into Santiago, a giant imposing though I can't say very appealing to myself at least monument that had been built across from the small chapel that marked the suburb strip on the way into Santiago. It had been built in veneration of Pope John Paul II who had made the journey to Santiago as well. It was a fairly bare hill actually with a few outcroppings of trees, cloistered in by the little chapel that remained closed but had been built in closer proximity to the trees. We sat here for a while resting, and I managed to get some great pictures as well as video of the Gaucho's as I had called them. The only group of pilgrims on horseback we'd seen so far, who we'd somehow managed to out pace one the way from Melide. They posed for some photos in front of the monument. All very photogenic.

This was also the first major appearance of road side vendors who were pedaling tourism wares. Every and any sort of imaginable item you could append a pilgrim logo or message on was for sale, t shirts, day packs, umbrellas. The hand crafted items interested me, but not enough to make a purchase, there would be time enough for that in Santiago.

Eventually the trail tapered off and now it was just asphalt roads to travel on, which in their own way have a different effect in terms of wear and tear on feet, joints, and muscles. We stopped for lunch just outside of the city limits proper at a small Albergue with a restaurant, and had hamburgers for lunch. This was a laugh and a cause for celebration, I don't think such a thing had crossed my mind in the entire length of the trip, but it was a welcome change from the average lunch fare we'd had up to this point.

Then on to Santiago. We we're literally there when we hit St. Lazarus bario, a traditional stopping place in the journey where those diseased with leprosy would have to stop their pilgrimage, and then on into Santiago.

I wish I could say it was memorable, but with the journey I'd grown so used to towns and roads, that at that point the last leg of the journey seemed to blur into itself. I was also hurting by this point with my feet, others in the group too had begun to have feet problems, so I followed along, through the streets of Santiago, down a set of steps past the Galician bag pipe players and then out into the plaza outside the front of the cathedral.

What can I say, it was a great mixture of emotions. Elation, relief, surprise. We'd finally made it. We all collectively celebrated with hugs, and then went to the back of the plaza to sit down and rest. Laying their feet up, against the cobble stones, resting on my back pack I took in the glory that was the cathedral. It was beautiful, stunning even in the full sun light that had hit it in its full glory.

How long passed, I don't know, at least half an hour of taking it all in, resting. Lisa had made it with the Norwegians the day before, and as we sat and had coffee with a french pigrim who had walked the entire Frances bare foot and had a little stove, I can honestly say it was a glorious humbling experience.

Getting up again was difficult, parts of my body didn't want to, but we all gathered and made our way down to the pilgrim accreditation centre.

As a pro trip, go as a group, go early. Single pilgrims made a long line for the accreditation, but because we were a group, we managed to get streamlined, and then told to come back around 8pm.

We found a small bar nearby, had a few drinks, and then decisions on places to stay. Jackie, Kirstie and Ingrid already had a hotel, Marina left to book a hostel in the city, and I unable to get a hold of anything by phone locally decided to try for the Seminario Menor, which Jackie offered to walk me to.

The Seminario is a beautiful building built about 20 minutes walk outside of the central medieval town, it had stunning views, off set by a giant dip between it and the rest of the city, it was one more hill, so what the hell.

They had a single room available, which I took with no questions asked. Jackie went off to her hotel, and I got settled in. Had a shower, changed into off the road gear, and got ready to go back into town.

We met back at the restaurant just up the road from the credencial office, walked in and got our credencials.

It will go with other accomplishments I have, my degrees, and the like.

The rest of the evening was spent wandering Santiago, taking in everything that the city had to offer. We stopped where the Galician bag pipe player had moved on and now sat and listened to an opera singer for about an hour. Interestingly as we sat on the steps, other people who had previously just been passing by began to stop and sit as well. Creating a bit of a bottle neck. I think the Senora was grateful for the odd audience that had began to gather and listen, not just tentatively pass by.

Then the city, different tourism shops, restaurant districts, loud bars, we moved along from one to the other. I had to leave around 10:30pm as I'd mistakenly heard the receptionist say that the Seminario closed at 11pm. Though to be honest I was glad for the opportunity to go and sleep, there was tomorrow to explore after all.

We all agreed to meet visitors mass at 12, which we wanted to get in beforehand at 11am.

The hostel was busy, but I was exhausted by this point, did my laundry, loaded it into the dryer to run over night and then thankfully settled in to sleep.

Thanks to my patrons. Brendan Mills, Renee Rushbrook, Carlos Ara.