We have arrived 😊. Mum is holding the credential issued by the confraternity of St. James in the UK – the large yellow book which holds all of the sellos (stamps) garnered from bars, restaurants, albergues etc en route, proof that you’ve walked the requisite 100km. In her other hand she’s holding the compostela itself, a short Latin document which confirms the achievement.

In earlier times such documents would help the believer pass quicker through purgatory into heaven. Rich chaps got their servants to walk to and from Santiago to obtain it on their behalf. Western europe is cris-crossed by semi official routes leading to places of pilgrimage such as Canterbury, Santiago and Rome. Whereas we have bars, restaurants and albergues to keep us watered, fed and comfortable at night, the poor medieval chappie had only his jerkin, his staff and a pleading expression on his face. Cold, wet and miserable, life on a journey of over 1000 miles must have been pretty execrable for the poor sod.

We on the other hand merely have the thousands of other pilgrims to contend with.

I whinged yesterday about large legs, rotund bodies and small day packs. There were plenty on show today but a closer look told a slightly different story.

One lady probably exemplifies many of the travellers we saw. Below her tight fitting shorts were calves covered with what appeared to be large purple welts, but were varicose veins worse than I’ve ever seen. Presumably very painful, she walked very slowly as her husband, a thin, fit chap in his sixties accompanied her. As this was our last day and we’d left before 7 o’clock we had plenty of time and we stopped frequently. During which, we’d see her and her husband pass ever so slowly. We’d get up after 30 minutes or so, start walking, pass them, stop a little later for coffee, only to see them pass us yet again, never stopping, walking slowly to Santiago.

After walking for a while it’s difficult to notice undulations in the landscape but there were some fairly steep ups and downs and in retrospect it must have been very difficult for many of these larger ladies. We’d pass them quickly on an ascent and I’d only notice how slowly they walked. It was only later when they’d pass us when we’d stopped that I’d become aware of the effort that they’d had to put in to simply keep going. I assume that they’d walk 10 – 15 km a day at least, which probably required far more effort from them than the 25 – 30 km that we were walking each day. Sarria to Santiago is a little over 100 km which suggests a journey for them of 8 – 10 days. In which case, I retract yesterday’s comments. I’m impressed, very impressed.

Today had lots of forest tracks.

We stopped in a bar from which in April we’d seen the donkey and cart, only this time it was extremely hot and there were lots of pilgrims.

And no donkeys 😒.

The monument on top of mount gozo overlooking Santiago appears fairly empty of people

but don’t be let astray – there were literally hundreds of pilgrims out of shot eating ice cream, drinking lemonade, lying on the grass chatting and laughing with kids running around then.

The final run in to Santiago is through the newer part of town, lots of shops, restaurants and bars but the final 400m is through the maze of wide and narrow alleyways in between the huge monumental architecture leading to the cathedral.

Last year we popped into the cathedral. It’s designed to impress and it does. The altar is a touch excessive and I enclose its image here simply for the sake of completeness.

My personal view is unrepeatable on a public blog but I’d be quite out of step with the millions of other pilgrims who’ve walked here to worship over the years.

As in April when we finished the Camino Frances there are mixed emotions. Tired after a long walk, in this instance a little under 200km, very, very sad that our family is smaller now with the loss of both Cymro and Bob but looking forward to the future.

One final comment. 1,898 pilgrims arrived to pick up their compostela yesterday, amongst whom we personally had met Spanish, Italian, French, Swedish, Canadian, Australian, Polish, Venezuelan and Uruguayan pilgrims. We saw no British pilgrims. With Brexit we know that Britain is withdrawing from Europe, in my mind the most cowardly act by a country not usually known for its cowardice. Perhaps we’re already seeing the first signs.

Buen Camino