Hiking The Camino de Santiago: Day 5&6, Arriving in Santiago

Day 5 of hiking The Camino de Santiago started early. Like- before dawn early.

This was THE day- our final day of hiking the Camino de Santiago.

We knew that we needed an early start in order to make it to Santiago de Compostela in time to visit the Pilgrim’s Office and make our case to receive our certificates. (More on that later)

Striking out into the darkness after a quick breakfast at the hotel, we donned our headlamps and wandered into an enormous eucalyptus and oak forest.  

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Usually, everything in my being says
STAY OUT OF THE WOODS WHEN IT’S DARK!    

This time, the woods seemed to beckon us in with the first glimpses of the pinks and purples of the morning sky seeping through the legs of the canopy. 

Hiking the Camino de Santiago in the dark is a different sensation.
It’s almost illicit.  

Passing through wooded patches and small sleeping villages, I felt like a light-footed bandit tip-toeing my way through winding streets and past tents pitched in the forest.  

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Our quiet, rhythmic footsteps and the tap, tap, tap of our trekking poles were the only sounds in the stillness of the dark morning.  It felt disrespectful to disturb the silence with chatter. 

The sun slowly rose as we wound in and out of towns and through misty forests of giant trees hugging the edges of vast fields and valleys. 

We marched up and down the hilly pathway that seemed to be carved right out of the flesh of the forest.

Huge groves of silent swaying eucalyptus diffused the air with a perfumed, invigorating, hydrating mist. 

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Hiking the Camino de Santiago through the little town of Lavacolla (about 10 KM from Santiago), we crossed a small stream where, in Medieval times, pilgrims would stop for a wash ahead of their final march into the city of Santiago de Compostela. 

It could be true that the town’s name derives from the Latin “lava mentula” meaning “wash private parts” or “lava culo,” which is literally the Spanish for “wash ass.”   I have no idea, but both of these ideas seem viable.

Many pilgrims still stop for this little ritual of cleansing before the long-awaited finale of the journey.

It’s now less of a necessity to wash months of pilgrimage filth from your body before entering the sacred Cathedral of St. James. Today it’s done as more of a symbolic washing away of any mental baggage before arriving in Santiago. 

We kept it moving over the ass washing stream and on to the next town.

I didn’t even stop for a photo. 

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Climbing the hill and hiking The Camino de Santiago into the town of Monte del Gozo (LORD HAVE MERCY & GOOD MORNING, KNEES!), the imminence of entering Santiago- a civilization larger than any we’d seen in days- became apparent in small glimpses of modernity that quickly faded back into the mist.  

The fog this morning was denser than on any other day of hiking the Camino de Santiago, distorting our long-distance vision (visibility was often only 10-15 meters) and allowing other senses to take over.

At one point, we rounded a corner onto the edge of a forest that ran alongside what seemed to be a vast open field.

Suddenly, a high-pitched screaming, churning, whooshing, grinding sound came from somewhere on our left and got louder and more high-pitched by the second.  We had no visible clues as to what this could have been.

At this point- I’m thinking we’re about to be attacked by some rogue robot monster that’s been terrorizing the woods or perhaps a spaceship has just landed to take us away for alien experiments.  

I have a rather innovative imagination.

Just as the sound became unbearable, it rushed forward, then up, and quickly faded away.  (again… ALIENS?!)

We saw nothing. No light. No movement. Nothing.

The dense fog masked any hint of a view of whatever the heck that was.  

Eventually, once the sound had gone and we had walked another few hundred yards, we realized we were on the perimeter of the Santiago Airport’s runway.    

Being directly adjacent to a departing jet we could not see AT ALL was an interesting sensation for the brain! 

I actually managed to snap a clear fog-free photo of where we were standing as we flew out of Santiago a few days later. It was a tad crazy to see how close we were to planes firing up their engines without the slightest idea!

(The light brown area under the trees to the right of the wing in the image below is The Camino)

We carried on hiking the Camino de Santiago through fields and woods muted by the dense, fragrant mist that swirled around us.  

We walked swiftly and excitedly toward Santiago, knowing that the goal was finally within reach. 

The air was thick with that mysterious fog and it felt as though we were slogging through a marsh without any visual clues as to how quickly we were moving. Just one foot in front of the other. Trusting the path.

It seemed like the trail and the forest were putting reality in slow motion, saying:

“Wait. Slow down. Don’t go just yet. Don’t you want to stay in this safe embrace away from the rest of the world for just a little longer?”

Though the sun had fully risen, the day was still a dark and gloomy shadow of the bright and sunny days previous. 

We had excellent weather luck for the first 4 days of the walk- all sun and blue skies and quickly fading fog, but today, it looked like we were going to be ushered into Santiago by a chilly gray rain.

We barreled on, stopping only briefly to help injured pilgrims, pet big dogs (can’t resist), and admire the looming shadows of the city of Santiago from the hilltop as it peeked out from its patchy blanket of fog. 

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Descending the hill (in an immense amount of knee pain), we finally arrived.

Coming into Santiago is a bit of a shock.  

Rocky hillsides, rolling meadows, and foggy forests suddenly gave way to billboard advertisements, honking car horns and steaming pavement.

As we approached the edge of Santiago, signs and marks of our arrival began to melt the quietly somber mood of leaving the enchanted forests into ecstatic jubilation.  

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WE FINALLY MADE IT!

Traditional Galician bagpipes played us into town with their welcoming and encouraging squeaks, adding a soundtrack of excitement that washed over us like a sugary glaze melting over a cake fresh from the oven.

Winding our way through the busy metropolitan streets of Santiago, our pace slowed to savor the last steps of the journey.  We eagerly peeked around every corner hoping for our first glimpse of the spires of The Cathedral we had been walking toward for so many days.

The sound of bagpipes ebbed and flowed as we meandered through the city but grew steadily louder as we descended a cobblestoned hill surrounded by ancient structures with beautiful facades. 

We descended a set of wet stone stairs and passed through a small tunnel echoing the joyous sounds of cheerful bagpipes.

We knew we were just steps away from our long-awaited goal. 

A sharp left turn out of the tunnel revealed the glorious (I use that word very intentionally) sight of The Cathedral de Santiago. We had arrived.

I kid you not–  in some kind of Camino finale miracle, as we stepped into the Plaza do Obradoiro (square in front of The Cathedral), the clouds parted and the sun beamed down for the first time that day with bright, welcome rays of warmth.  

It was like something out of a movie.   Fantastic.

Joy. Relief. Community. Excitement. Jubilation. Congratulation. Wonder. Happiness. Sadness. Prayer. Remembrance. Awe. Celebration. Pride.

The square at the feet of the grand old Cathedral was filled with wet, bright sunshine and the electric shouts, cries, and cheers of hundreds of pilgrims.  

We were just a few in a huge crowd of fellow pilgrims who had finally arrived from the same journey to the same sacred destination.  

The collective feeling of “WE MADE IT!  WE ALL MADE IT!” gave the air an energy of warm family built over many hard days and nights walking together and in each other’s footsteps. 

The battery of emotions that followed was strong and sudden. 

Feelings of every type welled to the surface in the form of a salty liquid streaming down our cheeks, no doubt brought on by a catalyst of exhaustion mixed with pure elation.

As we celebrated and took photos of the magnificent cathedral facade, we began to see faces we recognized from prior days of walking.  As face after face entered the square with the same look of happiness that was splashed across our own, we hugged and laughed and celebrated again and again as each of our (new) old friends arrived in the sunny square.

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We made it. We all made it. Together.

Leaving the jubilant square, we made our way down an ancient stone ramp from The Cathedral’s hilltop location and hooked a right onto a side ally that lead to The Pilgrim’s Office. It was time to apply for our Compostelas.

Each taking a number and instructions to return when our numbers were called (progress is tracked via an app), our little group and hundreds of other cheerful pilgrims sat in outdoor cafes lining the streets of Santiago for a hearty arrival lunch and celebratory drinks.  

From where we sat, we watched waves of more and more pilgrims arrive, absorbing the electric energy of consistent celebration that seemed to thicken the air around us. 

We cheered and waved to some we knew (and some we didn’t!) as each arriving pilgrim made their way to The Pilgrims’ Office, some in song, some in quiet contemplation, but all with enormous smiles on their faces.

During our 5 hour wait to be called, we hopped across town for our necessary COVID tests for re-entry into the US in the coming days.  

With all negative results, we were finally free to relax as we headed back to The Pilgrims’ Office to claim our Compostelas.

We did it.  And we finally had the coveted paperwork to prove it!

We checked into our 2-night stay at the LUXURIOUS and historic Parador Reyes Catolicos right on the square outside The Cathedral. (A Parador is a hotel owned by the Spanish government, usually in a historic/converted building of some kind and usually very luxurious.)

After a well-deserved shower and a fantastic evening meal in the Parador’s awesome cellar restaurant (Restaurante dos Reis) we hit the bed for some much-deserved sleep.

The following morning, we were up before the sun again in hopes of making it into The Cathedral for the morning mass.  

We had heard that this morning’s mass would feature a semi-rare swinging of the Botafumeiro (‘smoke expeller’ in Galician), a HUGE incense burner that The Cathedral is famous for. 

As two of the first to enter The Cathedral that morning, we had time to wander about and explore this incredible historic place of worship.

Luckily, the rumors were true and the infamous Botafumeiro was swung!

It takes six men, called tiraboleiros, in crimson red robes to light and get the thing swinging. It’s pretty awesome.

Following Mass, we headed down into The Cathedral’s crypt to take a peek at the burial place of St. James.

It is said that his bones now rest inside a small, but intricately decorated silver box* that visitors are able to pass by and peek at through an iron gate. (*Box doesn’t seem right but I’m not sure what to call it)

After checking out the crypt, we decided to fill the remainder of the day with shopping, exploring Santiago, and a little massage to reward our aching bodies.

Rain began to pour early in the morning and refused to cease, almost like a message from the Earth telling us to slow down, stay in and enjoy ourselves on these last precious Camino days.

We scampered around Santiago in the PISSING rain as best as we could,
but it was moderate misery at best.

We visited the local market for lunch and to check out the local produce and goods. Everything from cheese to seafood to meats to fruits and vegetables could be bought and sold. It made for a vibrant and fragrant scene.

The produce market’s current structures date from the 1940’s but replaced buildings in the same location that existed for the same purpose for 300 years. Thanks to the longevity of the site, many of the vendors are second, third, fourth, or even fifth generation sellers.

Winding through the tiny streets and marveling at the aged patina that seemed to cover every surface, we decided to give up on our soaked mission and really relax. We headed back to the Parador for a quick coffee in one of the four lovely interior courtyards.

Post coffee, it was time for a massage.

The massage studio is in the shadow of The Cathedral in an old, rock-walled basement space. Seriously- it’s RIGHT outside the main sanctuary entrance.  

This studio caters to weary pilgrims regularly and provides a full-body treatment called a “Pilgrim’s Massage” which was just what we needed.

As I lay in the dark quiet of the massage room enjoying the sensation of tension releasing from literally every muscle in my body, the bells of The Cathedral began to ring outside.  

With the sounds of the ancient bells echoing through the little chamber, I was filled with gratitude for the opportunity to experience this incredible adventure that was now coming to an end.

Following another beautiful dinner at Restaurante dos Reis inside the Parador (I tried a sea urchin from the menu- beautiful and delicious!), we were back to our rooms for long baths and even longer sleeps.  

We were up early again the next morning and on our way to the airport for the journey home.

It was a mixed bag of feelings.

Yes- I definitely wanted to get home to rest, recuperate and reunite with loved ones, but I was also sad to leave The Camino behind. “That Camino Feeling” isn’t easy to come by in my everyday life, but I certainly try to conjure it whenever I have the chance.

I still hear “The Soundtrack of The Camino” every once in a while- especially when I encounter a challenge.

Just put one foot in front of the other.
Step. Step. Step. Step. Breathe in. Breathe out.
I’m going to make it. We’re all going to make it.

Maybe my Camino didn’t end when the walk ended. Maybe my journey is just getting started.

Buen Camino, Amigos