Day Ten Sunday 7 June

Still 1.5k to go, I didn't realise at the time

Where millions of others have had the very same photo taken!

‘The Day we only had 40k to go’

Stirrings of some going to attempt the whole journey began the night before, we were undecided, but we thought to get 10k away would be nice, so we would have a brief walk in the next day and get to the cathedral for 12 O’Clock mass, in plenty of time.

That morning, the early risers, rose earlier…it’s a very good job I am an early riser too, because these things listed below would probably test my tolerance if I were not a morning person.

A list of irritations:

1.  Rustling carrier bags

2.  Loud whispering

3.  Door handles squeaking repeatedly

4.  Sleeping bag/rucksack zips that are zipped quickly to get it over with

5.  Zips that are zipped slowly (just as loud)

6.  Zips that are zipped in small stages – more irritating than 4 and 5

7.  Early risers who are still packing and have not departed, by the time you yourself get up and pack and depart half an hour later!

So, a Sunday in Spain is a quiet one, there wasn’t much open for us to stop and rest and use facilities, so we pushed on through the rain.  Quite heavy rain today and the scenery wasn’t much to write home about …hence my brief words now.  The scenery appears to have got less aesthetically pleasing as we have progressed, but we don’t know how much the weather has to do with this.

At 2pm we stopped for a pilgrim meal, drenched, starting to feel a bit sore in the legs, but we knew more rain was coming over the following days and the thought of another day of wet walking did not appeal.  We decided to walk on to Santiago, as we were soaked anyway.

As we were leaving, our freshly showered and dry Canadian friend (Vancouver guy, not snorer) and nice South African lady came down from their individual warm pension rooms upstairs.  They thought we were mad.

So we had 11k to go, 2 hours walking?  Oh, but it went on and on and we were both walking with limps and grimaced faces, we passed a brand new Albergue and saw our NZ friends rucksacks at the door (They were contemplating going to Santiago, but quite sensibly decided to stop)…we pressed on.  This last section was the ugliest, we walked passed TV stations, a disused camp site, that looked very sorry for itself, and our yellow arrows and markers had disappeared for a long straight stretch, leaving us a little puzzled (finding we had taken a wrong turn at this stage would have resulted in tears, and I would have been emotional too….ba boom!).

We finally reached Monte de Gozo, a peak just before the descent into Santiago, with a huge monument dedicated to St. James, John Paul II and the pilgrims on top.  The wind and rain howled around us, as we looked down to the outskirts of the city.

We started the descent and noticed that there were no other pilgrims anywhere, so it seemed a very lonely road.  As all the shops and businesses were also closed, this added to the desolateness.  Where were the hoards of people lining the streets welcoming us into the city and cheering congratulations?

We passed a few pilgrims the closer we came into the centre, who had got to the end and were waving their certificates at us and telling us, ‘not far to go’ in numerous languages….it seemed like an eternity!  But once we had turned several corners, we arrived (we thought…a little unsure as it looked a little different in real life…or were we just delirious?).  We got our token photo’s like those in all the guide books and promptly went to get our certificates…there were lots of relieved faces and excited pilgrims in the office, especially those who had been walking for 5 weeks solidly!

Relief!  More from the punishing weather than the walking, although it was hard going today and we both felt the pain of our near marathon distance.

Oh boy did we sleep well…8pm through to the morning, warmth, a bed where your feet didn’t hang over the end, no snoring, no rustling of carrier bags, no zipping…peace at last!