Anticipating our destination: a long, south side entrance into Santiago, Spain

 

Anticipation lives alongside the hard work of patience.

But it’s hard to be patient when you’ve already walked 215 miles and spied the destination Cathedral along the skyline of Santiago, only to have the distance markers trouble you: “Six kilometers to go.”

We knew the last day of the journey would be long, one of the most lengthy of the 15-day trek. It was billed as a 15.7-mile walk from Padron, the final leg of our Portuguese Coastal Route into Santiago de Compostella, Spain.

But the official mileage markers did not factor in our side steps to view a chapel, a wayside venture for almond-flavored Santiago cake, or off-road jaunts for pictures of stray cats. And, oh yeah, that Italian restaurant was a least a hundred meters away from the nearest iconic yellow direction arrow.

The twin spires of the Santiago Cathedral can be seen from all points of entrance to the city. We came in from a high point on the south side, achieving a total-walk elevation gain of 1,598 feet.

My mile-by-mile anticipation centered, not on arriving in front of that thousand-year-old church, but rather on the expected atmosphere of bag pipes in the tunnel, the cheers of people greeting newly met friends, and the sight of so many hugs of congratulations.

But all that would have to wait. There were at least eight thousand steps to go, more sweat to drip, more eucalyptus trees to smell.

When the landscape became more urban, our walking companion announced, “About 45 minutes more.”

“FORTY-FIVE MINUTES?” Nancy was disappointed. We seemed closer.

We started off the day making good time. It seemed easier than usual because of our sense of anticipation — first a 19-minute mile, and then a 20-minute mile. But we slowed down from there. Ultimately, it would be a seven-hour walking day, plenty of time to revisit in my mind the highlights of the past two weeks.

I recalled the friendly vintner who waved me over to his field and handed me a stem of white grapes. Then a second stem. “For the seniora,” he said.

Days before, we were greeted by a festival of hats — green fedoras, pinks ones, red ones tilting, and blues sprinkled in — all wired overhead to cap the celebrations planned for the streets of Caldas de Reis.

In the same city, we followed in the tradition of ancient Romans by resting our tired bones in a geothermal pool, but not for long. The water was too hot to linger, but the temperature in the larger pool was just right. I stayed in long enough for my fingers to crinkle.

Each day the landscape hosted its menagerie of four-legged domestics: a goat on a wall eating ivy, a glaring of cats eating off nine place settings set out by a Spanish Samaritan, a lost dog who trotted against traffic, sheep with an occasional shy “baa,” and pigs whose stink clung to the humid air.

Alongside one of those tedious miles, I re-imaged a graveyard of amusement equipment, including an eye-irritating Pinocchio that sent us both into shivers.

More pleasant, however, were the well-placed coastal lighthouses and the occasional decommissioned windmill, its grinding stones frozen in time. The coastline never failed to be picturesque.

No man-made edifice compared to the ornamentation of ancient churches and chapels. Though quiet in reverence, nearly every church shouted its opulence with gold overlays. But there would be even grander gold at our destination.

We arrived at the Santiago pilgrim office about 4 p.m. in time to hand over stamped proof we actually walked the miles. In turn, we each received a personalized compostela, our names written in Latin.

Finally, our anticipation had been rewarded. Indeed, I did hear the bagpipes. I did hear the cheers. Plus, I took in more: I listened to the clicks of a thousand snapshots, the clanging of church bells, Celtic folk music, and the murmur of myriad voices. We were just two of 1,794 pilgrims who had arrived that day.

Seeing people happy and at peace, this was the joy I anticipated, waited for, walked for, and finally reaped.

1 thought on “Anticipating our destination: a long, south side entrance into Santiago, Spain”

  1. Thanks for your stories and photos! That last day was a challenging one but very rewarding. The whole Portuguese Coastal Camino was a kaleidoscope of emotions!! It was a pleasure sharing the journey with you and Nancy.

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