Leaving O Logoso this morning, I noticed it was a full moon. Eight weeks ago today, Sarah and I walked out of Almería under the glow of the Easter full moon. It has waned and waxed twice since then.
A couple of kilometres past O Logoso the path splits. Left Fistera, right Muxia. I turned right and passed through Dumbria.
There were fewer pilgrims on this route. Even so, I seemed to pass them all, I was motivated and in the zone!
Hmmm… Aussie humour.
The mist was so thick that it was impossible to see any distance. To begin, I could smell the sea. Sometime later, I could hear the sea.
And eventually, just two kilometres from Muxia, the mist lifted slightly and I saw the sea!!
What a buzz, after so many days walking ever closer. Muxia is situated on the edge of a narrow point beside a narrow inlet. Originally a fishing town, its main industry these days, judging by the numbers sitting in shuttered cafés along the waterline, is surely tourism. Here, the sun shines (sometimes!), the water is calm and clear, and the gulls are nosey and noisy!
On arrival I found the albergue, checked in, showered and washed, and went in search of food (same old routine!). After lunch, I wandered out to the headland. There were quite a few pilgrims out there, sitting on the rocks, quietly taking it all in. I did the same myself.
What does this rock looks like to you?
For most pilgrims I spoke to, this is the end their camino. For me, there’s one final stage to complete. Tomorrow, I walk to Finisterre, the westernmost tip of Spain, and traditionally, in European perception, ‘the end of the earth’. It’s hidden behind this series of headlands.
So, I am asking my aching legs for one last effort (33kms with approximately 600 vertical metres of ascent and descent). They aren’t keen just at the moment, but with a few more hours of rest, I’m sure they’ll give it a go. And if the last fifty four stages of this Camino are anything to go on, they won’t let me down.
Buen Camino
Neil💙👣🐬
What a fitting way to end - the open spaces of the seas after being under the vast vault of the sky day after day. Charles
ReplyDeleteWhale. GO legs!
ReplyDeleteFull moon, two months on - there's a spiritual symmetry in that - coast to coast - sea to sea. I can sense your wonder and physical awareness, Neil. [btw those rocks resemble resting kangaroos (as per that 15km signage) - although one does look a little like a medieval astronaut's helmut? Religion has nothing to do with this . . . ]. Float and glide through tomorrow on your Way to Finisterre.
ReplyDeleteOh, how wondrous is the smell, the sound and the sight of the sea! And there's nothing better than walking barefoot on the sand! Those legs aren't going to let you down now. I'm thinking whale. They are around our part of the world over the coming weeks. Go well. Love and prayers, Elizabeth R.
ReplyDeleteThe sea! The sea! … I thought a sleeping seal? I imagine those calves, ankles and feet soaking in the briny Atlantic. KAS
ReplyDeleteYour excitement is palpable Neil!! And with reason. Southern to western seas and all that’s in between … and for us and you what a change in scenery…the mossy dense forest filled with fairies and goblins replaced by swashbuckling ghosts of pirates and smugglers … there are people other than pilgrims and ghosts right? It all looks so sparsely populated… like Western Australia prior to the mining boom and FIFO crowds. Those legs of yours won’t know what to do with themselves once you finish that final leg?! And it must be exciting to know that soon you’ll be reunited with Sarah? And soon after… us??! 😳😊 Oh… and another Canberra winter… remember those?! ❤️👣🥂Deb
ReplyDeleteDid you put the sticker on the marker? Ken
ReplyDelete