Early this morning we got ready to walk the final eight kilometers into Santiago. When I pulled my luggage out to the street for our bus to pick it up, it was still dark outside.
As I stood out in the cool early morning air, some pilgrims walking by in the first light of morning.
It took a long time for our group to get ready and organized this morning. By the time we got the bus loaded with our luggage and were ready to walk, daylight had come. I peeked around the back of the hotel and spied this little fellow.
Speaking of urination, Brenda announced to us as we got ready to head out, “No green doors today. It’s all urban. There will just be one potty stop before we get to Santiago.” Two people immediately headed back inside for a final pee before setting out.
We all knew this was going to be our last day walking. People were feeling sad. Like me, many of them felt ready to just keep walking forever. One member of our company had to leave early—at nine tonight. We were nearing the end of our pilgrimage and had just three more days together.
We set out together on our final approach to Santiago.
Today was asphalt roads all the way. We were definitely walking into a city.
I love how, after just a couple of weeks together, I can readily recognize everyone from behind. I know their clothes, their backpacks, their shins, their thighs, the way they stand, and the way they walk. It’s just one of the many ways we’ve grown intimate.
This is me and Andre, one of beloved guides, clowning around.
This is me and my buddy Hannah. We’ve been friends for over forty years. It’s been so sweet to have an old friend on this trip with me.
I loved this logo from was our second breakfast/bathroom stop.
Waiting at the bar to be served their coffee.
The Mount of Joy
After about an hour and a half of walking, we reached our first destination, Monte do Gozo (“Mount of Joy” in Galician), a hill about 5 kilometers east of the Santiago de Compostela cathedral, on the final stretch of the Camino de Santiago. Its name comes from the joy medieval pilgrims felt on first glimpsing the cathedral spires from its summit, after weeks or months of walking, and it’s traditionally the last high point before the descent into the city. Today it’s marked by a large pilgrim monument, a small chapel (Capilla de San Marcos), and a viewpoint.
Once we passed the chapel, we gathered everyone together. We could see the tip of the cathedral in the distance, just like the pilgrims of old.
On the packing list for the retreat, we’d asked everyone to bring a stone with them that represented a burden they wanted to lay down or place in memory of someone. We’d carried these stones with us since our first steps on the Camino, and now we told everyone it was time to take them out of their packs and meditate on what they wanted to release or let go of, the person they wanted to remember or bless, what they wanted to pray for.
Then we walked single file, in silence, toward the pilgrim monument.
I felt a great stillness inside as I thought about the stones I was carrying and why I was carrying them.
We passed this wall carving along the way:
When we reached the monument, we spread out and each found a spot to place our stones and say whatever was in our hearts to say. I’d carried three stones, one for me, and two for loved ones. I found a beautiful spot to set them down.
Afterwards, we all returned to the monument for some celebratory pictures.
This is me, feeling strong. Eight months ago, I was so sick with breast cancer and diverticulitis that I told Brenda I didn’t know if I’d be able to walk at all on this Camino. I was afraid I might have to ride on the bus all the way. But here I was, just a few seasons later, and I’d walked every step of our Camino. I felt so incredibly grateful for my body’s capacity for rejuvenation and healing.
When we had our fill, we left Monte do Gozo and continued our journey toward the cathedral we’d glimpsed from the hilltop. Twenty minutes later, we reached the outskirts of Santiago, and soon entered the old town section of Santiago.
There were many narrow alleyways.
As we wound through the streets and got deeper into the city, the yellow arrows that had guided us for 100 kilometers disappeared almost entirely, but these gold markers started showing up in the sidewalks with regularity.
Now pilgrims were outnumbered by locals carrying shopping bags, buying produce, wheeling babies, getting on and off city buses, walking dogs, visiting with friends. Yet there were still a steady stream of people like us walking toward the cathedral wearing backpacks with clamshells dangling from the back. I could still hear the steady clip clop of hiking poles against cobblestone streets.
A few more twists and turns, and a tunnel with a bagpiper playing, then we were there.
We had made it!
This is us at the zero kilometer market in front of the cathedral.
What happened next will have to wait for tomorrow’s post. It’s after midnight and this writer needs to go to bed. I still have to prepare for tomorrow’s closing session. Then we’ll share a long celebratory lunch at a lovely restaurant—and all get a free night in Santiago.
The next day, our last full day together, we’ll take a bus trip out to Spain’s Atlantic coast and Cape Finesterre, ninety kilometers (the equivalent of another 3-4 days walk) from Santiago. But more on the reasons for that journey later.
Buen Camino!