Camino Frances 25 May 2024 - Lugar de Pineiro to Santiago de Compostella

The Final Stride: Santiago at Last

It’s hard to believe, but today is our last day on the Camino Frances. What a journey it has been. To say we’re exhausted would be an understatement. We’ve climbed hills that seemed to touch the sky, crossed rivers and streams that shimmered in the sunlight, navigated steep shale-covered paths that tested our balance, and wandered through fields, vineyards, and the smallest of hamlets that felt like they were frozen in time.  

When I first decided to take on the Camino, I knew it would be hard. I knew it would test my fitness (or lack thereof), my endurance, and my will to keep going when every muscle in my body screamed to stop. And it did—all of that and more. But it also gave me moments of joy, breathtaking beauty, a sense of accomplishment and a bond that Kim, Alison and I will carry forever.  

Would I do it again? Probably not. And I’m fairly certain Alison wouldn’t want to walk it with me again, either. She’s a natural-born walker, the kind who could have finished this pilgrimage in half the time if I hadn’t been holding her back. I can still picture her, walking a kilometre ahead, then stopping to wait, patiently writing the journal that would document our adventure. By the time I’d catch up, she’d look up from her notes and ask, “You okay?” I’d nod, catch my breath, and say, “I’m fine, let’s keep going.”  

The truth is, if I’d stopped for too long, I might not have gotten back up. The Camino taught me that sometimes, the only way forward is to keep moving, one step at a time, no matter how slow or how hard it feels.  

As we near the end of this incredible journey, I’m filled with gratitude—for the challenges that pushed me to my limits, for the beauty that took my breath away, and for Kim and Alison, who waited for me at every turn, never once complaining about my pace. The Camino may be over, but the memories, the lessons, and the bond we’ve strengthened will stay with us long after we’ve hung up our walking boots.

Adapted from Alison's diary entry:

This is it. The day we’ve been walking toward for weeks—our final day on the Camino Frances. It’s hard to believe it’s come down to this. The excitement is palpable, even more so than when we first set out from León. Where has the time gone? By this afternoon—or more likely, this evening—we’ll be standing in Santiago de Compostela, the culmination of our pilgrimage. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves. First, there’s a walk to finish.

The wardrobe that Kim wanted to take home

Our last day: Kim, Louise & Alison

Frank, our trusty driver, arrives to take us to O Pedrouzo, where we’ll begin our last day’s hike. We’ve been a bit lax about collecting stamps in our pilgrim passports, but since Sarria, we’ve needed at least two stamps a day to prove our journey. Louise and I laugh about how we didn’t even get our stamp in Astorga, having left our passports in our luggage. Lesson learned.

We set off through a eucalyptus forest, a surreal experience. Walking among gum trees in Spain feels oddly out of place, yet strangely comforting. The path is flat and easy—I could get used to this, I think. But of course, I’ve spoken too soon. The trail dips downhill, then plateaus, then dips again. Such is the rhythm of the Camino.

For a while, we simply follow the crowd, not even bothering to look for the familiar yellow arrows. The throng of pilgrims soon disappears into the horizon, leaving us with the quiet solitude we’ve come to cherish.

We pass under a highway and emerge on the other side, greeted by one of those steep, cut-out paths that seem to define Galicia. According to the Raw Travel app—which Kim has finally mastered—we’re about to face a steep uphill climb. And here it comes. The incline is sharp but short, leading us into a deep, dark woods. I half expect to see the Big Bad Wolf lurking among the trees.

The trail levels out briefly, a deceptive respite before the real climb begins. It’s a steady, moderate ascent that just keeps going. Fifteen minutes later, we’re still climbing. I take a quick toilet break, leaving my distinctive backpack by the trail as a marker. When I return, I find Kim and Louise waiting patiently. Everyone looks out for each other on the Camino, and two different groups stop to ask if we’re okay or need help. It’s a reminder of the camaraderie that defines this journey.

At the top, we consult the app again. “It looks like we take a right, then a left, then another left,” Kim says. “We’re doing a big loop.” Louise chimes in, “We need to go around the airport.” Sure enough, we spot landing lights and what looks like an old navigation tower. I can’t help but laugh—St. James certainly didn’t have to detour around a landing strip. The serenity of the moment is shattered as a plane roars overhead.

After navigating the airport detour, we stop for cake. Just 200 meters later, we pass two cafés and choose the one near a church. While Kim orders tea—reportedly the best on the Camino—Louise and I peek inside the small Galician-style chapel. The tea lives up to its reputation: strong, made with boiling water, and served with cold milk on the side. Perfect.

Back in the woods, I feel the occasional sliver of rain brush against my skin. It’s light at first, but as the trees thin, the rain grows heavier. I stop to put on my poncho, and Kim follows suit. “Just in case,” she says. It’s a good call—five minutes later, the rain comes down in earnest.

Marker with 10km to go

We duck into the first café we find for lunch, just as the heavens open. By the time we leave, it’s a full-blown downpour. With 5.6 kilometers to go, we press on through the sideways rain, descending into Santiago. Our planned stop to admire the cityscape—with the cathedral at its centre—is thwarted by fog. No photos for us today.

The final stretch is tough. Louise’s toe is under pressure, and Kim is in agonizing pain, her feet begging for mercy. “15 kilometers is my limit,” she declares. But there’s no turning back now. As we reach the outskirts of the city, Kim asks, “Are we there yet?” “No,” I reply. “2.5 kilometers to go.” I pick up the pace, knowing they’ll have no choice but to follow.

Finally, we arrive at Plaza de Obradoiro and turn to face the northern gates of the Santiago de Compostela Cathedral—the Portico de Glory. WE ARE HERE. 0 kilometers left. We celebrate with sideways leaps and hands in the air, our emotions spilling over.

After gathering our wits, we head straight for our hotel. Oh, if only we were staying at the Paradores—no walking required. But for now, we’re content. We’ve made it. Santiago, at last.

Steps:  38,412

Accommodation:  Hotel Gastronomico San Miguel 

(you would think a hotel with a name like this would have a restaurant)

Kim, Louise & Alison