Days 13-16 … Friday – Monday 14-17 August 2015
Took me some effort to write this, partly I’ve been out sightseeing and partly I can’t find any profoundly amazing thing to say about the final stage of the Camino.
I wanted to end this series properly with a decorative period, not a half-hearted report in mid-sentence.
But the last few days were both unnerving yet surprising and they provided a meaningful conclusion to this whole insane walk.
This may drag on a bit so please bear with me. I want to share as much as I can on what the heck this grand walk means to me now.
The last 100km or 5 days were filled with “pilgrim tourists”. Many don’t carry any backpacks. They simply raced past chatting away and party in the next town.
It was very different from where I started. But there’re many ways to Santiago and everyone will find their own.
There seemed to be less people on the last day from Arca. Most people must have started earlier.
I was among the stragglers and the injured. But it was good taking my time enjoying the fresh fragrant country air. You know, how it’s like when we were kids in the playground and it’s time to go? It’s the same lingering feeling.
During the Camino, I’ve met many nice people, made friends, walked together, shared stories, love, peace and all that but this last day of walking, I wanted time alone as I approached Santiago.
I was having mixed feelings. Actually it’s more like trying to solve an unknown puzzle or in search of something out there, elusive, perhaps even non-existent.
Originally a few of us wanted to stay the night in Monte Gozo about 5km from Santiago de Compostella and made the descent early Saturday morning.
Somehow we missed the 500-bed albergue (can you imagine?) and arrived in Santiago without realizing it. Like, huh, we’re here already?
Entering Santiago was a bit disappointing. The outer city was ordinary, dull, regular, lacking in charm and magic, definitely very different from what I expected.
Luckily I met Zsolt and he led me into the old city, got our credentials and certificates, and celebrated with a good dinner and a well deserved rest.
The next day Saturday, Zsolt left and I ventured on my own. After the big thrill of having arrived, I felt disillusioned.
The place felt like a theme park with souvenir shops and tourists, families with agitated babies, children running, shouting excitedly while parents eat, a sightseeing trolley, guided tours, buskers, tired pilgrims, happy pilgrims, day pilgrims, fake pilgrims….
It was an anti-climax. I can’t believe I walked so far for this.
So I headed for the cathedral to see if I can find something important, a message, a sign, a vision, anything.
As I entered there was a faint smell of incense and knew I missed the Botafumeiro ritual. This is one of the highlights of the pilgrimage and was really annoying to miss it by a few minutes.
What’s even more annoying is inside the cathedral, people were taking photos and videos while the mass was going on, holding up the queue just to pose for photos.
I moved away from the crowd to a quiet corner, stayed for a few minutes thinking how I started the Camino alone and ended up alone.
In the sea of faces, I looked for the friends along the way but there were no familiar faces. Feeling slightly lonely, I left the cathedral.
Just as I was deciding if I should buy food to eat in a park rather than eating alone in a cafe, I met Carlos and his son. We’ve stayed in the same albergues for 3 nights but have not met for the past 5 days. It’s was a joyful reunion.
Carlos used to live in Santiago as a child and showed me around the old quarters. How the place changes when you have someone with you. Suddenly there was warmth and stories, life and history.
Come Sunday morning, Carlos left. Alone again, I decided to make a day trip to Finisterre.
Lo and behold, the Korean lady Shim who was in my little Singapore National Day dinner was on the same bus. It was Korean National Day and she treated me to the best seafood lunch at the end of the world. We had a great excursion together.
While waiting for the bus back, Shim and I met an Italian pilgrim who was suffering from swollen knees after completing a gruelling walk on the English Camino.
We shared a table and started chatting. Then he rushed off to meet another pilgrim, forgetting to pay for his food. So Shim and I settled his bill. Then Shim left for the airport to fly home.
Monday morning I went to the bus station to get tickets for Madrid. Guess what? The Italian pilgrim was in the same queue. This is beginning to be look like a drama with a few characters playing lead roles.
Italian and I were happy to see each other and we walked to the old town where he treated me to breakfast. Then I accompanied him shopping for birthday gift for his mum.
Ok that’s getting a wee bit personal so we said goodbye and parted ways. That’s when I got lost in the maze of Santiago and wandered into a small empty square with an inconspicuous church.
It has a simple interior and in the centre the statue of Jesus with a humane expression unlike the suffering look on the cross. In the peace and calm of this old church, I sat on a bench and began to reflect on the experiences of the past two weeks.
It didn’t take long to realize that most my needs have been answered, my fears dispelled and my hopes reignited along the way. Not in an obvious manner but in subtle instances when I least expected. Everything seems to happen for a reason.
It became clear when and why people come into my life, how problems can be solved, what’s really important and above all, I realized the Camino has not ended when I reached Santiago but the start of living differently from now on.
It’s about following the yellow arrows of our lives. Sometimes they are hard to find especially in busy crowded places. Sometimes we will need a friend to show the way. Sometimes we are that friend. And sometimes, we are the yellow arrows.