Arca do Pino to Santiago de Compostela

Our last three days on the Camino. Two and a half, really, as we retargeted our resting places in order to arrive in Santiago in time for noon mass on Saturday.

Lunch Break

The weather has definitely changed. Grey skies with the constant threat of drizzle if not rain. The countryside surrounding us is a green mosaic, thanks to the moist Atlantic winds. The eucalyptus trees reach up, tall and slender, to the sky above. The flowers thrive.

Eucalyptus

While our eyes were fixed on the remaining kilometres, our thoughts were on those we had accomplished. Constant reminders of experiences from this year and from the year before. A cross. A kilometre stone. A resting pilgrim. A stone heart created by a reiki healer--or by a follower.

Could It Have Been Brian's Work?

On the Trail

We enjoyed our final casa rural at Arca do Pino, where we took advantage of its washing machine and dryer to process our clothes. All our clothes, as we wanted to explore Santiago in a state of cleanliness, although we would not be prepared to engage in the tradition of Lavacolla, our next port of call.

Our way led us over gentle slopes and through shallow valleys. Galicia was comfortable and easy, not spectacular.


Approaching Lavacolla we found Santiago's international airport blocking our way. At the very least the powers that be could have given pilgrims a right of way across the tarmac, interrupting flights when necessary. Instead we were forced to march several kilometres out of our way around the end of the long runway.



Only Twenty More to Go

The insertion of the airport into that location, however, did lead to one curious outcome. For several days we had become accustomed to encountering stone markers every tenth of a kilometre, with the remaining distance to Santiago shown. On the other side of the airport, closer to Santiago, markers were not to be seen. The markers had been removed. If the markers had been left there they would have shown that the markers prior to the airport no longer were truthful. They should have been adjusted to allow for the extra mileage around the airport. New markers on the Camino on the Santiago side of the airport would have revealed the disconnect with the earlier markers.

In Lavacolla at the Hostal O'Pino the crowds of pilgrims began to build up. The establishment had grown since I was last there, and a new building had been put up just outside the hostal compound. The compound, however, contained a derelict building whose owner was demanding of the hostal owners more than the site was worth. Just because we are on the Camino close to Santiago, there is no reason for everyone to behave as good Christians should.

Breakfast at the first opportunity and an early morning start had us on our way before eight. The rain that had been threatening now came down, but with interruptions that generated rainbows.


Monte do Gozo (Mountain of Joy) and the monument commemorating the visit by Pope John Paul II slid by.

John Paul II Monument

Chapel, Monte do Gozo

We crossed the city limits. A long walk through streets that made one realize how large the city had become. At last a sight of the cathedral tower.

The four of us walked through the Arco Palacio, holding hands, into the Praza do Obradoiro.

Praza do Obradoiro

An about turn and there, in front of us and above us, the baroque facade of Santiago's cathedral.