Day 20 to Muxia

If ever you walk from Fisterra to Muxia (pronounced Moo she ah), I highly recommend you break the stage in half and stay at Liresca in Lires. My favourite stay on this trip, best restaurant, best style and friendliest staff.

 All class. The only thing missing was my Camino Family. A hot shower got my body right and the café con leche and gluten free toast got my mind right. The hotel, directly on the Camino, released me into the wild almost immediately with a climb into the Galician forest.

 The sunrise was close to making its grand entrance. The morning was chilly and damp. My right hand, frozen but still gripping my walking stick as my legs moved briskly in an attempt to get the internal flame to its maximum temperature. I crossed a cement bridge replacing the old stone blocks pilgrims once used to step across the river.

 I could see the peach sky slowly brighten beyond the forest but the warmth had yet to reach me. I finally surfaced from the valley, a break in the trees at the top of the hill brought me to a farm field. From between the trees and through the fog came the most glorious sunrise with the surrounding leaves still glistening with dew drops.

 I lingered. Standing in the stillness, embracing the moment and letting the sun reach me. I stared at the rising ball of fire until its light was blinding and stepped back into the dark forest. 

A forest so dense the sun could not penetrate through its limbs though it tried. Relentless it was and soon the beams of light pushed through and heated the forest floor.

 I'm on a road surrounded by trees but I know I'm close to the sea for I can feel the salty mist in the air and can hear the faint, distant hush of the surf.

I passed a very stinky farm and the cows, still lazy, lying in their filth, huffed at me. I spoke out loud to them and told them that they were very stinky. I'm fairly certain they were well aware and cared not. The fog and diffused sunlight surrounding the farm made for some fantastic lighting and I endured the stink to capture some photos. 

I moved on for fresher air and was thrilled to step into the  smell of eucalyptus and pine. The eucalyptus is an invasive species here but smells fantastic nonetheless. Today the path has had far more dogs than the many cats I've seen until now. Not just any dogs, the coolest Spanish street dogs. They strut around like they own the town. Some strut alone, some strut with a gang. Usually there is one loud mouth and then a bunch of chill ones that could not care less for the passing pilgrims. I crossed paths with a man and his pretty black lab on her third Camino. Once from Sarria, once from Tui and now walking the Camino Finisterre.

I saw a lone golden lab today and decided to say hello. I asked him how he was, had a full blown conversation, he just stared, then the owner came around the corner with a horse and looked at me like I had 3 heads. I bravely petted another doggo but pulled myself away when I realized how smelly he was. Even as I write this, there is a nervous little chihuahua mix sitting in the sun by my side.

 If only my doggo knew how very much I missed him.

The trail today was very natural with little to no support and one very high mountain to climb.

At one point in the day, on an exceptionally isolated mountainous area, up ahead I could see a pilgrim completely miss his turn towards Fisterra. He was walking up a mountain road looking at his phone. He should have turned towards me but instead kept walking straight and up. He was oblivious. Completely engrossed by his phone. I watched from the distance as he walked off course. I continued walking and watching, hoping he would soon realize his error and turn himself around. He did not. I paused thinking perhaps he knows where he is going as I certainly do not. Instead, I used the loudest mom whistle I could muster and he immediately stopped and turned to look in my direction. I waved and pointed him in the right direction with my stick. He smacked himself in the forehead, the international symbol for "I'm such an idiot". He then put his hands together as if in prayer and nodded as a thanks. Sometimes we get lost when we are on our way, sometimes we have to rely on the kindness of others to put us back on the right path. There is no greater source of fulfillment than helping a random stranger.

The approach into Muxia was roadside walking but that didn't take away from the incredible view. The trees cleared and I was overlooking a gorgeous beach with the most clear, turquoise waters I have seen in a very long time.

It was a massive beach and was mostly deserted. I walked on and kept my course to Muxia and again the end of the earth.

 I passed another gorgeous cove, much smaller but this one decorated with bright yellow flowers. That would be the last white sandy beach for the rest of the way. The shoreline became increasingly rocky and the surf more aggressive. Up ahead I could see the colourful houses perched on the rocky hills and reminded me of Eastern Canada. 

Muxia is a quaint fishing town with squawking sea birds, fish net decor and the smell of barbecued sardines wafting through the salty sea air. The streets flow like a maze all leading to the point, to the Sanctuario da Virxe da Barca and the other 0.0 km marker for the pilgrims.

 I arrived in the hot bright sun and after walking under the rock of the Virxe da Barca 9 times (tradition to cure one of ailments and God knows I have a few) then I went for a celebratory glass of wine, Padron peppers and huevos with patata fritas. It would surprise people who know me and my appetite how many kms I walked most days without eating. On average 20kms on salty nuts and water and the always necessary café con leche.

I lingered for a second glass of wine and let my mind wander while enjoying the sun on my face.

My private room was beautiful although I spent little time there. I showered then hit the streets again, did my laundry, did some shopping and made it back to the Sanctuary for sunset.

And a glorious sunset it was.

Camino is the way. The way is life. Walking the Camino in Spain is like an entire lifetime, intensely compressed and then dissected if only in an attempt to finally understand all that life was and is. It allows us the time to examine our choices. It allows us the time to reflect on all of our life experiences both joyous and painful. It allows us the time to improve who we are, how we think,  how we behave and how we treat others. It allows us the time and opportunity to get to know oneself as well as others, the ones who walk beside us. The Camino shows us how to love and how to share. It teaches us patience, gratitude and an appreciation for life's little moments. It entertains us with the sounds of nature like the song of a bird and the purr of a kitten. The dance of two butterflies as they swirl about in their own tornado.  The grace of a horse as it shakes its mane in the sunrise. The slow burn of the morning fog. The stillness of time as we savour every moment.

I recognize that not everyone has the opportunity to fly to Spain and walk these ancient paths. Find a way still, to take time for yourself, away from home and work. It matters not where you walk but that you walk. Walk among the trees. Walk in silence and hear the birds. Rise with the sun and sit with the fog until it lifts. Let the wind move through you and let the sun warm you. Smell the flowers, touch the trees and breathe it all in. Remove yourself from society, be alone and just walk. With every step, all that you carry will fall from your back to be left behind. Your mind will find clarity and your body will show gratitude with longevity. Your soul and spirit will absorb the energy of the earth. You can then gift it to others by offering them the best of you. Walk for love. Walk for forgiveness. Walk for peace. Walk for energy. Walk because you can. Walk for those that can not.

I started this day in a reflective state of mind. I have walked away my anxieties. I have walked away my fears. I walked until I could breathe again. I walked to open my heart to love. I walked until I could feel pain deeply. I walked to heal my wounds both old and new. I walked for friendship. I walked in celebration. I walked with laughter, so much laughter. And alone I walked and let go of tears I didn't know I had left to cry. I've climbed mountains with sheer will and determination. I've come to terms with my faith. I've been able to do all that I've done because I believe. I believe I can fly. I believe I can touch the sky.. Hahaha just kidding... too far.

 There was a time when I was fragile. Just a shell and a broken heart. Words can be very damaging when they come from the one person your heart just wants to love. I was disillusioned, disappointed and deeply hurt. I believed that I wasn't good enough. I believed I never would be good enough. I was seeking the approval of others, trying to find my worth in their eyes. I fought hard to convince myself and others that I was worthy.  Worthy of love, worthy of affection, worthy of respect and worthy of someone else's time. The one thing I never did was give up. I learned to let go of the judgment of others and let go of the need for validation. I closed my eyes and I looked within. It was there that I found love. I found strength, grit, determination and self-respect.  I realized then, that what mattered was what I believed, not others. I believed I was worthy and so I was. I believed I was good enough and became so. I believed I was brave and then found my courage. I believed I was strong and found my strength. I believed in love and so it was found. Love in another. Love in companionship. Love for a path and a place. A love of life. A love for this Camino. My life. My Camino.

May you all find peace and love and light.

Believe in yourself.

You can do anything when you believe. You have but one life to live. Make it yours and live it to it's fullest. 

Buen Camino.

Good way.

xx

Day 19 to Lires

For months I had built up in my imagination the incredible sunrise I was going to see waking up in a lighthouse. When I opened my eyes, it was still dark but I forced myself up. I opened my window wide and leaned out to see boats lining the cape, each with a light on as if to create a magic protective force field of light. I quickly dressed and quietly left my room. I had to find something to prop open the front door as I was only given a code for my room. I used a sturdy server tray and hoped no one removed it before I made it back. I went onto the deck and took pictures of the lighthouse and the eerie skies.

 Low lying clouds rolling in off the water with the surf. The skies went from black to soft grey and the sun was trying desperately to show itself.  I went back in for my very late 9am breakfast. How could I say no? They had gluten free bread and the only coffee within 4kms of me.

I was served on the upper deck with a view of the water and the imminent sunrise. 

The breakfast was deluxe but I just couldn't eat another slice of ham or cheese. I ate the bread slathered with butter and jam and enjoyed a cup of fresh fruit. The coffee and fresh orange juice dancing around in my belly was making me nauseous. It was well past the time to walk. A short day ahead but the Galician sun would no doubt make it a tough day.

 As I walked away from the lighthouse, the sky was brighter and the sunlight was forcing itself through the clouds. The breeze off the water was just enough to keep me cool and the path was taking me back down to sea level. 

Surely this meant I would eventually have to climb back up and over the hills to get to Muxia.

It was a quiet walk to the town centre of Fisterra. I avoided the tourist traps and bypassed the beach. It was very green, and lush as I slowly climbed into the hills and the tall pines seemed to always be with me.

I had a good giggle today as I watched two dogs come running down the street without a human. One was a big, heavy set female German Shepherd and the other a fast talking, fast walking chihuahua like mutt that was clearly smitten with her. At first sighting, their energy was playful and happy and I was happy for them. Like two friends about to get in trouble. Then they ducked into a wooded laneway and the little dude mounted his big girlfriend and they went at it, right there in plain sight, shamelessly. I couldn't stop laughing and of course I took a picture.... just for you. If I must see it... so must you 🤣

I laughed for a while with that image.

I walked for hours, farther and farther from civilization. I saw a few pilgrims today but they all seemed to be walking in the opposite direction towards Fisterra. 

I climbed an enormous hill, still in crocs but I went slow and steady, spending most of the walk in the Galician forests.

There was a subtle smell of the salty sea in the air and I knew I had to be close. In 2018, I walked the entire Camino Frances, over 900kms carrying my Dad's ashes. My son Christian and I released them into sea from the beach half way between Fisterra and Muxia. The Praia do Rostro on the Costa da Morte. Translates to Rostro Beach on the Coast of Death. Sounds morbid I know. The beach however is a little piece of heaven. 

The surf is rough and the sand wide and deep from the shoreline to the protective pine forests. It is not easy to access nor is it in a high traffic zone. It is isolated and ultimately a very peaceful resting place for a man who loved both the forest and the sea.

 As i made my way onto the sand, I looked for a sign from him, something to tell me he was near and a large feather blew on to my feet. I walked close to the water and used my walking stick to inscribe his name in the sand. Just as I completed the task, the sun pierced through the clouds and its light made the inscription glow. I have never been more certain that our angels are with us and if you believe, you too will see the signs. 

I walked slowly on the beach to lengthen my time there. No picture could ever capture the beauty of this natural wonderland. The sand, soft and smooth with not a shell or stone to imperfect it's finish.

The waves, rolling in with a steady rhythm. A never-ending hush, day and night, rain or shine... the ocean is constant. I stood there and found great comfort in the constant of the surf. I found it difficult to make my way back to the road knowing of the climb that was waiting for me. A steep, paved climb back into the majestic pines, leaving a piece of my heart back on the beach. 

The next 5kms seemed to drag on, through the woods, the meat grinder was doing a number on my feet. I found a way to stay focused and used music to fuel my spirit and find my grit.

I made my way finally into the town of Lires and as I climbed the steep and narrow streets of the small town, I was greeted by cats. My new home at the top of the hill is fabulous. Modern with old world charm. The bossa nova cover hits is just the chill vibe I needed. Kenny, the guy running the place, is a young friendly New Yorker who came to Spain to teach English and never left. I had a coke zero, checked in and have been sitting on the patio since. Haven't even seen my room yet. I graduated to wine and the sun, intense with it's heat, is shining on my face, sneaking it's way under the patio umbrella. Dinner is in an hour and I anticipate a fantastic meal.

 I bought some jewelery, made and sold by a local and all proceeds donated to special needs groups in Galicia. Hopefully I don't need much cash tomorrow because I just spent most of what I had. One more day of walking tomorrow to Muxia. Then a bus back to Santiago. A flight to Barcelona and another long flight back. I am going to enjoy every single painful step tomorrow and then I will be counting the hours and minutes until I see my kids and my doggo.

The best part of travelling is without a doubt... going home.

I am so ready.

Buenos Noches x

Day 18 at the End of the Earth

The sky was still dark when I woke up this morning. I was rested, packed and ready to go well before daybreak. I walked back towards town by about 500m just to get some coffee in me. The sky slowly lightened until shades of peach grew over the horizon.

 The walk started with a good climb to get my heart rate up and I remembered to look behind me to watch the sunrise. The mountains blocked the rays but I knew somewhere close by it had surfaced. The crowds of the Frances were no where to be seen and it was just me and the birds. The solitude soothed my soul. I walked with a smile as I reflected on the past few days, walking slowly as if to absorb more from the journey. I approached a small beach town and was flooded with memories from 2018 when I walked this very path with my son Christian and Kaitlyn.

 It was again early in the morning and just like 2018, I watched the sun come up and over the mountains on to the beach. I went off the path and walked on the beach which led me to the same quiet restaurant and its fabulous garden. Such fantastic memories. I might have even ordered the exact same thing. Scrambled Huevos, fresh squeezed orange juice and a cafe con leche.

After an indulgent breakfast and many photos, I rejoined the path and walked through a tiny sea town. I was stopped by a trio of begging cats.

 One tried to distract me with his good looks while the other two pawed at my pant legs. I made it through town, up into the hills and back into the forest. It was so peaceful. The smell of pine with the fallen needles softening the trail and warming in the sun,  the sound of the song birds and the strong crash of the surf hitting the rocks below was all that could be heard as I descended upon the coast.

 When the trees finally opened up enough for my first sighting of Fisterra, it took my breath away. Still 8kms away, the lighthouse was just a small sparkle at the end of the land. The path turned, hugging the cove and exposed beaches otherwise hidden from the world where a number of pilgrims dropped their packs and jumped in the sea.

 I resisted the urge and kept on with my end goal for the day in my sights. I reached the main beach and was welcomed by Giuseppe. A dark tanned Italian man, gifting painted sea shells to the tourists and pilgrims for donativo.

 I donated for his effort alone and took nothing so he gifted me a scallop charm. He said it was for good fortune. When he found out I was from Canada, he got so excited and proudly showed off his Canada sticker and pin that someone had given him.

He was a friendly soul and had such positive energy which fueled me for the walk on the hot beach. I needed strict discipline to not fill my pockets with the countless sea shells I saw along the way.

After a few kms of beautiful beach walking,  I made it to the town of Fisterra and smiled as again I remembered 2018.

This time I wasn't stopping for anything until I reached the lighthouse. 

The path was parallel to the main road, following every bend and curve. A narrow dirt path with a drop to the sea far below on one side, the road on the other. The 3 km stretch also climbed as it twisted and turned and I paused under the shade of every tree that offered it. 

I paused to look out over the sea and to my amazement, a hawk was soaring above me, circling 3 times. This phenomenon will never go unnoticed. I smiled the entire time as I walked on, a super giant smile. My friends know it. People I love have seen it. My heart is full and my soul is calm.

I was beaming with pride at the accomplishment of arriving at the 0.0 km marker especially after overcoming first illness then the foot fiasco.

 After the obligatory photos, I walked to the rocks and watched the pilgrims arriving and doing the same. Some were alone, some were celebrating with friends and some were romantic with love in their eyes. 

I reflected on my journey, the people I met, the friends I made and the love I found and I didn't feel alone. 

I spent my evening watching the sun go down slowly for hours and in the end the sky turned bright orange. 

Three glasses of wine and a steak dinner at a ridiculous hour was all it took for me to fall asleep. Even the beam of light flashing in my room every 3 seconds couldn't keep me awake.

Today I walk back down the 3km stretch and turn north from Fisterra. I will walk to Praia do Rostro where I spread my Dad's ashes in 2018.

An emotional day ahead and I'm glad you are all with me.

Xx

Day 16 and 17 Santiago, Cee and Corcubion

If it does not challenge you, it will not change you. I suppose then that change is imminent. The Camino Primitivo was a tough walk. By far the most difficult of all the Camino paths I have walked. Yesterday, having a full day to enjoy Santiago was wonderful and something I have never gifted myself.

 I spent a perfect day with Robby. We started the day getting laundry done early, luckily beating the enormous line of stinky pilgrims that would soon be upon us. We had a cafe con leche and transferred our gear to another hotel room directly beside the Cathedral.

 We walked hand in hand, up and down the historic cobblestone streets of Santiago. We shopped for souvenirs, ate lunch, had ice cream and coffee in the sun. I had never, in all my previous walks to Santiago, seen the tomb of St James, where his remains are protected within the sacred walls of the Cathedral. Robby took me down the narrow steps and through a few small corridors where I saw the tomb and was permitted to hug the statue.

After leaving the Cathedral, we walked some more, laughing on the steps, taking ridiculous pictures of my giant head and enjoying the energy of the small city.

Eventually, we met up with Wlad, Lana and Ellen to give the last of our hugs, and say our farewells for now. Each hug was a lasting, heartfelt embrace and an exchange of gratitude for all that we had given to one another. Encouragement, comfort, laughter and friendship. We all made our promises to meet up again someday as we turned and walked away.

Robby and I went for a 2nd round of Chuleton, lured into the restaurant with a promise of gluten free bread. We shared some deeper conversations and acknowledged and reflected on what had transpired between us over the course of our individual journeys.

The evening was as beautiful as the day but the bittersweet goodbye that was waiting in the wings, was difficult to ignore. My camino family and friends were all ready, packed and homeward bound in the morning. For me, an early departure and a reconnection with the path to the end of the world. Choosing a day in town with Robby over hobbling in crocs to the next town was an easy decision to make. Despite not wanting the day to end, sleep came quickly and so did the morning.

My alarm went off at 7am and I forced myself out of the warm bed. I showered and nursed my wounds trying to ignore the apprehension I felt about the challenge ahead. Not only was I about to shove my still wounded foot into a hiking boot and walk, I was also doing it alone. I had to remind myself, this is what you do. You walk... and you walk alone, all the time. The difference is, I found someone I like to walk with and instead of doing so, I have to say goodbye. 

My shoes went on, my pack went on and as I walked away from the corner apartment, I stopped to turn around and look back. There stood Robby and his reassuring wave, watching as I walked away.

The dark, damp streets of

 Santiago swallowed me up within seconds as I made my way to the bus station.

A 2 hour bus ride to get me back on schedule and back on the Camino to Finisterre.

I arrived in Cee and mustered up the energy and desire to walk with a salad and a coke zero.

 I took off my hikers and strolled in my crocs. I followed a stone path that hugged the shoreline. 

The sun was shining on me and the breeze off the water kept me cool. The smell of the salt water was subtle but had great impact on my well being. I feel calm and loved and will no doubt spend the next few days reflecting on the days that have led up to today. After a lovely stroll seaside, I reached Corcubion.

 A small and very quiet fishing town. I checked in to my beach hotel by a man that looks just like Adam Sandler. I told him so and even showed him a picture but with his lack lustre personality, he just stared blankly as I took the keys from him.  I changed my reservation from a hostel to this place and am very happy with my choice. I'm baking in the sun, on a patio chair overlooking the ocean.

It's only lunchtime and I didn't walk very far at all today. Tomorrow will be a solid 20km day. I will for sure wear crocs and my day will start with a climb. I actually vividly and fondly remember this walk from 2018. It was one of my very favourite parts of the Camino. Unfortunately my toe has not made this walk easy and forced me to take a couple of zero days. With only 4 days left...I plan on walking.... even if I have to go barefoot.

I walked into town to find somewhere to eat that wasn't limited to mariscos. An older Spanish woman wearing 2 ginger Heidi braids made me chicken, fries and a salad.

 I drank my second wine to honour my bestie back home on her birthday and headed back to the beach. 

I don't have a bathing suit or a towel but that didn't stop me from laying in the hot sand and promptly passing out to the sound of the surf and Spotify.

 I woke up feeling like a crispy piece of chicken and realized, I still have 2 and a half hours until sunset. I walked the beach, my toes in the sea and found a perch. A stone sea wall, with warning signs in Spanish that I chose to ignore. I was overlooking the clear teal green water with hundreds of minnows swimming near the surface.

 No city sounds, just the small waves splashing in a steady rhythm against the stone wall and a far away symphony of seagulls who desperately need a vocal coach. The tide is coming in and the sun is dropping behind the mountains. 

Surely a sign for me to head inside and get some rest.

Buenos Noches x