A Pilgrimage Walk from Le Puy-en-Velay to Santiago de Compostela, 2003. 11. Ninth (and Final) Week (20-24 June) + Aftermath (25-28 June)
Pilgrimage walk from Le Puy-en-Velay to Santiago de Compostela, 2003. Week 9 (20-24 June) + Aftermath (25-28 June)
Friday, 20 June, 2003. Portomarín. [Day 57. In Spain, Day 24.]
After breakfast across the street, off we went at 8 a.m. The day was sunny, but hazy, not clear. We walked along hilly contours, passing many farms, to Sarria, where we had a late morning stop. The weather was hot and humid, not like the dry heat of the Meseta. We continued on to Ferreiros, hoping to stop there, but the small albergue was full. We had to walk on to Portomarín, another 8 km. By now it was late afternoon, still hot and humid, and although the trail was attractive, I was very tired. Franz and Hermi reappeared in Sarria.
In Ferreiros, we took on Julia, who had lost her sister, and Jivad and David – and we all (including Franz and Hermi) walked on to Portomarín, arriving at 7:30 p.m. I was destroyed! I felt dehydrated, so I drank lots of water mixed with anti-dehydration powder. I also felt very stiff. We found beds in the (free) albergue. I took a cold shower (an older German man gave me a tip on how to have cold instead of glacial water). Before dinner, we quickly checked the internet at the Café de España. All is well with the family.
Saturday, 21 June, 2003. Palas do Rei. [Day 58. In Spain, Day 25.]
We’re now resting in the Hostal Vilariño, in Palas do Rei, a small town 66 km from Santiago. The albergue was full when we arrived, about 4 p.m. I didn’t even wait to learn the sleeping-on-the-floor possibilities: hot and tired, I voted at once for a hotel room. Cost: €36. It’s attractive and quiet.
Today’s walk: I felt recovered this morning, but the heat and humidity have continued, and with much uphill walking, I was soon dragging. After a bar stop at 11 a.m. for coffee and a snack, by 12 noon we reached the hostel at Ligonde run by a religious group – evangelicals – including Dave’s wife, there for one month as a hospitalera. Dave was reunited with his wife. Vincent, Karin, and Jivad have decided to spend the night there. Caroline and I had our picnic lunch at a table under the trees. I was feeling sleepy and would gladly have stayed, but Caroline wanted to walk on a further 8 km to Palas do Rei, so we did.
Dave is an evangelical, I have recently learned (but taking Roman Catholic communion); Julia and Ilana are Jewish. The Camino calls many! The Holy Spirit does not discriminate. I should keep this in mind, a good lesson.
It’s 8:30 p.m. and we’re about to have dinner.
So close to Santiago! Incredible.
Sunday, 22 June, 2003. Ribadiso de Baixo. [Day 59. In Spain, Day 26.]
6:30 p.m. We have found space in an attractive albergue, nicely located by a river, with refurbished older buildings. It's large and well organized, with ample WCs, washbasins, and showers, one building for ladies, another for gents. For the showers, there is hot water even for latecomers, thanks to the system of rationing water: you push the button and water comes for a short time (and then you must push again). José Mari and Nekane, hospitaleros in Bercianos, are indeed here, serving as volunteers as they said they would be – a pleasure to see them again.
We arrived about 4 p.m., so I took a short nap before starting my routine – shave, shower, laundry. I still have not resumed yoga, once a key part of my end-of-day routine. I last did yoga at Tosantos. The next day I had my painful bout of tendonitis; somehow thinking that my daily yoga exercises had brought it on, I stopped what I had been doing faithfully ever since the start of the trip.
Caroline has gone for a beer.
This morning we left Palas do Rei at 7:30 a.m. after coffee and croissants – early for us. The walk today was more pleasant, thanks to cooler temperatures (some clouds now) and to an attractive trail through eucalyptus forests. Only one section was dull: big factories / warehouses leading to the town of Melide.
We stopped for coffee in Coto, in the nice patio and garden of “Casa de Somoza,” run by friendly people. Later, a bit beyond Melide, we took a break for nuts and water by the church of Santa Maria de Melide (a 12th-century Romanesque church). For our picnic lunch, we found a table in the shade, shortly before Boente. Franz and Hermi were just leaving. Karin and Vincent soon appeared, and with them we walked on to Boente and had a coffee & cider stop before continuing on to Ribadiso. Karin told us she had a room next to Dave and his wife’s at the evangelical hostel. “I heard everything,” she said with a certain emotion. “Everything.”
Also here in Ribadiso: Cheryl and Vanessa (Australians, mother and daughter), Claudia (Austrian, a specialist in Chinese medicine), and a few Germans and Spaniards (names unknown) seen for several days now. David, Julia, and Ilana are also here.
We’re now only 40 km from Santiago. I had a moment of strong emotion during the walk today, thinking that we will soon arrive, imagining the overwhelming emotion I will feel, but knowing, of course, that surprises can happen. We are not there yet!
Monday, 23 June, 2003. Monte de Gozo. [Day 60. In Spain, Day 27.]
9:00 p.m. The albergue here is huge, one building of it, at least. The overall complex is enormous, with many buildings, a large plaza, and restaurants. This evening it seems underutilized, so I imagine everything is designed to serve crowds on festival days, or for large groups of pilgrims arriving in mid summer. Our room is smallish, though, sleeping a maximum of eight. The windows look small, so I anticipate a poorly ventilated night.
We see smoke in the distance and hear booms – celebrations of the eve of the feast of San Juan, Saint John the Baptist.
For dinner last night, we took the menu del día at the local bar/restaurant, entirely run by a woman (cook) and her young son (server).
Today we hiked 34 km, leaving us only a short final walk tomorrow into Santiago. The weather was cloudy and much cooler, and the lovely forest trails with many eucalyptus trees were a pleasure. But then came the airport, after which we trudged along a never-ending asphalt road.
At Arca, at 3 p.m., when we were at a bar finishing lunch, who should appear but Michel from North Brittany, last seen in Arzacq! How surprising it has been: people come, people go, people disappear, people reappear. We greeted each other joyfully. He has lost 16 kg, he said, but is fine. For an hour or two afterwards, I felt the magical, fairy-like aspect of the Camino. Indeed, for God anything is possible.
It’s amazing to be so close to the end – the tips of the Santiago Cathedral towers can be seen in the distance.
Off to dinner now.
Tuesday, 24 June, 2003. Santiago de Compostela. [Day 61. In Spain, Day 28]
After a short walk from Monte de Gozo, we arrived at the Cathedral about 10 a.m.
To our consternation, the staircase up to the main western entrance was blocked. No access to the church? How could this be possible? We were pilgrims!
We soon learned the reason: security. The big plaza in front of the cathedral was partly roped off by the police. The king and queen of Spain were about to emerge from their hotel, the parador, the Hostal de los Reyes Católicos.
After they appeared – we caught a glimpse – and were driven off, we walked around to the north door of the Cathedral
and entered there, for a first look.
Next, we went to the nearby Pilgrim's Reception Office to get our Compostela certificates, issued for “official pilgrims” who present their créanciale, the little booklet stamped by hostels and churches along the way. Ours, obtained at the outset in Le Puy-en-Velay, were filled with many stamps, each one a picturesque image. (See the end of this entry for my Certificate and my Créanciale.)
And we found a hotel room (Hostal Suso, rua del Villar).
Back to the Cathedral for the noontime Mass for Pilgrims. The church was packed. At the end of the service, because today, June 24, is a special day in the Christian calendar, the feast of the Nativity of St. John the Baptist, the enormous ceremonial incense burner, the Botafumeiro, was brought out and put into action. [Note: it was made in 1851, of silver-plated brass; weighs 53 kg; measures 1.5 m in height; and when used in a mass, is attached to a rope and pulley suspended from the central dome.]
Eight men pulled it up and swung it back and forth, faster and faster, with clouds of incense floating in all directions. I held my breath. What if the rope broke? It has happened, although rarely. Fortunately, not today. After a few minutes the Botafumeiro was slowed down and brought to rest.
After Mass, we greeted and congratulated fellow pilgrims, then fulfilled the other rituals pilgrims do upon arrival. We placed our hands on the Tree of Jesse in the trumeau of the old Romanesque portal; we touched our foreheads to the head of the sculptor, Matteo, carved on the interior side of the trumeau; we gave a hug and a kiss to the rear shoulders / upper back of the large statue of St. James (St. Jacques / Santiago) located above the altar; and last of all we descended into the crypt to view the silver casket that holds his remains.
On to lunch. For me, green beans Galician style = with hardboiled eggs and boiled potatoes. And then a nap. At 6 p.m., we met pilgrim friends for a drink and then dinner at Casa Manolo, Plaza de Cervantes: Cheryl and Vanessa and Bob (Australia); Suzanne (?) and Luc (Quebec); Karin (Austria); Vincent (Belgium); Jivad, David, Ilana, and Julia (USA), et al. and Ramón, a friend of Cheryl and Vanessa’s, from Madrid, perhaps irritated at having to share the two women with so many others.
I returned to the hotel after dinner. Caroline stayed with the others for more celebration.
Aftermath (a summary): Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, and Saturday, 25-28 June
Tuesday evening, after I went back to the hotel, the others went on to a bar, where Vincent’s bag with his trip journal, camera, and cell phone was promptly stolen. Efforts to recover it (police visit, etc.) were in vain. The next morning, Wednesday, Vincent looked deflated. I myself felt devastated just thinking about it. I know how important the journals were for him. He has now left on the train for Brussels, via Paris.
On Wednesday, some practical matters required attention, first and foremost laundry, which we left at a laundromat in the newer part of the city.
Other pilgrims met along the way continued to arrive. Chantal and Marie-Paule are now here, as was Christophe (met in Lanne Soubiran).
We had a leisurely, friendly lunch with them. Others are heading home: Michel has left for Brest.
Although our hotel room was comfortable and attractive, my sleep was disturbed by noise in the street. Our hotel room faced the street, where buildings on either side trapped the noise and magnified it.
The last day in Santiago was spent touring the Cathedral museum; lunch just off the main square in front of the Cathedral; shopping for gifts and souvenirs; and one last visit inside the Cathedral. That evening, we had drinks at the Hotel Suso followed by dinner with various fellow pilgrims. After dinner, Karin treated ten of us to a drink at the Hostal de los Reyes Católicos. I opted for something a bit different: colacao, hot milk with cocoa powder.
Friday morning Caroline and I left Santiago for Paris, a 22-hour ride on two trains, first, Santiago to Hendaye, then Hendaye to Paris-Austerlitz. €110 per person for the entire journey (with the French leg twice the price of the Spanish section). The section across northern Spain was a recap of all the scenery was had walked through. The French night train, spent on “reclinable seats” rather than couchettes, was uncomfortable, as anticipated, but we arrived in Paris on time, Saturday morning.
There we were.
This amazing trip was over.
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My Compostela pilgrimage certificate:
My Créanciale (shown here in 6 images):
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