Just before I attempted to visit and see the end of the world, I wanted to remember my 5 Spanish men who were my unknown pacemakers for several of the days. I did see them a few times even though they were faster than me, usually at a bar and stopping for coffee and always at any chapel we passed.
That last evening in Santiago I had wondered into the old quarter to meet with fellow pilgrims and have dinner. It was then when I saw the happy singer strolling with his wife on his arm. He saw me and shouted
“Oh Miss Liverpool!!’
I laughed and indicated to his wife whom I had not seen before that she had not walked the Camino.
“Non, non” she replied and pointed to the other four Spanish men. They all had a wife on their arm now and were proudly walking down by the Cathedral. I couldn’t help myself so I turned to all of them as they waved at me and said,
”Viva L’Espagne” They loved that and we laughed…it was a lovely moment.
My last day was a coach trip to 4 places ending up with the end of the world. The guide was a Camino guide in his early thirties with Rastafarian plaits in his hair tied back the a band. The coach was warm and the front seat gave me fabulous views and at that moment I thought that I had made the right decision.
We pulled up in a beautiful old village called Puente Madeira. In the Galician morning mist we walked over a stone 13th century bridge. The river below flowed into a weir and an old water mill cottage. We were quite high up and the place was almost immaculate, but like everywhere I had travelled, there seemed to be nobody around, no life going on…where is everyone..and it was then that i saw some pilgrims crossing the bridge and continuing their walk to Muxia.
It hit me like a stone. After 35 walking days I wished it had been me ….walking to the end of the earth….and not on a coach….I felt guilty!!