The track to Cape Finisterre is the only pilgrimage route away from Santiago de Compostela. The body of Saint James is said to have arrived there by boat, and his original tomb is said to have been at Finisterre. Like everything associated with Saint James, I’d have trouble proving it.
For many, the ocean is the true end of the Way. Of course, they’d have trouble proving it.
It’s a bit like “true” pilgrims. How does one establish that? On the way to Negreira, on my first day of the walk to the coast, I met an older German gentleman going the other way. He had started like many pilgrims of earlier times and simply walked out of his front door – in Germany! Now he was walking back to his front door - in Germany!
He said that he did not feel this made him in any way authentic: he was merely curious to reproduce that medieval experience. Further, he was not sure that what he was doing was Christian, being one of those who believed that the Way may well be a prehistoric Celtic tradition.
He had been asking people he met what was the true reason for the Way of Saint James, and was dissatisfied with all the answers. It was my turn to disappoint. After very little thought – I’d rather chatter than ponder – I suggested it would help if he were more Celtic and diffuse in his thinking, so the true reason would matter less, or change its signification. (The appeal to cliché Celtism was silly, but I do feel some Germans wrestle too much and too clumsily with abstraction. Their language makes it that much more strenuous.)
Of course, my babbled response was useless, a void-filler. I was simply recommending that he should be more like me, a shirker of left-brain exertion who thinks in Technicolor and talks in shorthand. If he ceased to be a puzzler, he would have no puzzle. How was that going to help?
There is no greater sincerity than that of the German, when his sincerity is unfeigned and unforced. I was only with this gentleman for a few minutes, but I’m fond of him forever. I like to think we were attracted opposites. He was trudging up a steep hill the last time I glimpsed him, something he wouldn’t mind in the least.
***
The track to Finisterre is through hills, then into some well-watered farm country, with an ascent to some higher ground again before the ocean comes into view. I feel like exhibiting this region without comment, not because it’s uninteresting – it’s choice – but because this phase was a wind-down for me. So let the blog wind down too.
Stunningly beautiful country. Perhaps the most beautiful of the whole Way. What a fantastic blog…’thank you for sharing” seems so trite, but I am increasingly grateful that you did.
Thanks Nancy. Pleasure.
Great photos and lovely looking country. A friend and I will being walking from Santiago to Finisterre in a couple of weeks. I would be interested to know approximately how many miles you walked each day on this segment of the Camino, and where you stayed each night.
Thanks!
Kim
Kim, as you may have gathered, I pay too little attention to how far I walk, or to numbers of any kind. I did not pay much attention to anything except scenery and people on the way to the ocean. That final stage was more of a holiday than a pilgrimage, though it ended up having its influence. It helped me realise how much I miss coastal NSW, though it’s not far from where I live now. I decided, on my return, that I’ll move to the coast soon. The Camino at work!
There was plenty of accommodation at that time of year and I can certainly recommend the whole route. Should be some swimming weather in September.
I’m told Muxia is even more interesting, so if you have time…
Like the idea of the German just walking out
his front door and keeping going.
Beth, I like the idea of starting at Saint James Church in Sydney, or from my front door here in the scrub. I imagine there’ll be the odd problem paddling through the Malacca Straits or crossing the Caucasus. You get that.
It’s been done before … in reverse direction. After thinking
about the German Pilgrim and wanderings my beach walks
seem pretty tame. I saw advertised today a destination fer
me,140km north of Melbourne, the old gold town of Clunes
Book Festival with visiting book traders, readings, wine
tasting … Won’t be walking though, guess driving doesn’t
count as a pilgrimage, mosomoso.)
Jest a serf.