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Back to Galicia…

My first attempt at a Galician empanada was a success!

With roots stretching back to medieval times, the Galician empanada remains one of the region’s most iconic culinary traditions.

Packed with onion, red paper, and tuna, this delicious beauty instantly transported me back to Galicia and the incredible food that I ate there.

So inspiring…

There are going to be so many things from my Camino journey that I’ll be ‘unpacking’ for a long time. From the outset, I knew that choosing a route through northern Spain was exactly what I wanted for a number of reasons including the incredible food of course.

When doing my research, I had marieminer_santiago in Santiago on my list of restaurants to check out but every time I walked by, it was packed. On my last night, I wandered by and asked if there was any chance they could squeeze me in. Thankfully, they said yes!

These squid croquettes and braised beef cheek were absolutely delicious and are just two examples of the many incredible meals I enjoyed in Spain. The experience has left me feeling so inspired to get back into the kitchen and rediscover my love of cooking.

And just like that…

As I left Negreira just after sunrise this morning, it felt different from all the previous stages. Knowing this journey would be over in a matter of hours made every step feel a little more meaningful.

About 5 km into my walk, I passed through Ponte Maceira. It was still early enough that I had the village entirely to myself, giving me the chance to explore and enjoy this very special place. This village is steeped in history and folklore as a location of a number of battles and even miracles associated with St. James.

As the day unfolded, the landscape continued to change. There was more time spent on roads, houses became increasingly frequent, and the outskirts of Santiago gradually began to appear. I still had a decent amount of trail time, but the trail-to-road ratio was very different from previous days.

Then, almost suddenly, the route began to lead me into Santiago… teasing occasional glimpses of the cathedral spires in the distance.

After days on the coast, days inland, and nearly a full week of quiet reflection, stepping into the Praza do Obradoiro felt like entering a place made for pilgrims. A place where the Camino ends and for many, something else begins.

Like many of the pilgrims arriving today, I simply sat in the square and soaked in the atmosphere… reflecting on my own personal journey. There was so much energy in the square with many people laughing and singing… and even some crying.

Eventually, I managed to pull myself up off the ground (admittedly with some audible groaning) and made my way to the Pilgrim’s Office to collect my Compostela.

On paper, this stage was 21.3km. The actual distance covered was 24.1km.

My official Camino record of distance was 117km… my actual walked distance with all the extra exploration I did along the way was 149.9km. Time for a new pair of shoes.

Nuts:13. Me:0.

Leaving Vilaserío, I faced a fairly uninspiring stretch of road for the first 2 to 3 kilometres. Thankfully, the Camino soon rewarded me with a day filled with beautiful forest paths winding through groves of hazelnut and chestnut trees.

Every so often, a breeze would sweep through the valley and I’d find myself showered with nuts falling from the branches above. The hazelnuts weren’t too bad, but the chestnuts, wrapped in their prickly outer shells, definitely kept me on my toes. I couldn’t help but feel that a certain someone was having a little fun at Dad’s expense… direct hit buddy, 13 times.

This stage felt different. I barely notice the hills anymore and even though I’m carrying more water than planned because of the heat, somehow my pack feels lighter. Zero blisters yet but my feet are telling me they want a day off.

Eventually, the forest opened up and I found myself on the outskirts of Negreira. After days of small villages and countryside paths, arriving in a larger town with cafés and bars is a nice change.

Tonight, Negreira is home before the final stretch back to Santiago.

It’s hard to believe this little stroll is almost over.

On paper, today’s stage was 14.1 km. Actual distance covered: 14.9 km. Tomorrow is going to be much longer and challenging.

Noticing the little things…

Faced with another climb just a couple of kilometres into today’s walk, I dragged my carcass out of bed extra early so I could tackle the morning challenge while the air was still cool.

It was a nice change to start the day in temperatures cool enough to see my breath. Before I knew it, the steepest part of the climb was behind me, and from that point on,
the walk felt comfortable and unhurried.

The views from the top of the ridge were breathtaking.

The landscape also changed again, from forest paths to agricultural land, and with that came the unmistakable smells of farming (for those who aren’t familiar, farmers often spread manure on their fields in the fall to return nutrients to the soil).

Despite the occasional smelly assault on my senses, I found myself noticing the small things today… corn fields gently waving in the breeze, the shifting light on distant hillsides, and the shadows stretching across the valley below.

On paper, this stage was 18.9 km. My actual distance was 19.3 km… however, the evening is still young and there’s a decent chance those numbers may increase as I embark on a search for a cold ce***za at the local bar. 😉

Tonight I hang my hat in the small village of Vilasereo.

A good but challenging day.

A quick warning before you read on: this post is more personal than my usual updates. There are some important people following along from home who will understand why. If that’s not your thing, feel free to swipe and come back for future posts. 😊

Leaving Cee this morning was bittersweet. It marked my final stage on the coast, leaving behind the fishing villages, endless views, and fresh ocean air as the Camino turns inland.

This is the middle of my Camino.

A stage best characterized by a 15 km stretch of almost nothing, where the only thing to do is put one foot in front of the other. To be honest, this was the stage I was most worried about physically.

But today, that long quiet middle had other plans for me.

As I walked, I thought about how so much of life is lived in the middle. Not in the milestones or the endings, but in the long stretches in between. The stretches where progress feels slow, answers seem distant, and all you can do is keep moving forward.

About 8 km from Cee, I came across a small shrine to the Virgin Mary for pilgrims. What immediately caught my attention wasn’t the shrine itself, but a photograph tucked above the door. A photograph of someone who left this world far too early, placed there by someone walking their own difficult path.

Truthfully, I cried a lot today.

Not because of the climb or the kilometres, but because the Camino gave me space to reflect on the difficult path our family and friends have had to travel, the losses we carry, and the strength it takes to keep moving forward when there seems to be no clear answers in sight.

Maybe that’s what the middle is for. To allow the lessons, grief, healing, and growth to do their quiet work.

By the time I reached Olveiroa, the stone houses nestled in the valley felt like a gift. After pushing a few kilometres farther, I finally arrived at the albergue that will be home for the night, grateful for a day that challenged me in ways I didn’t expect.

On paper, this stage was 22.3 km. By the end of the day, the actual distance covered was 23.8 km.

One last stage on the coast.

Leaving the Finisterre lighthouse behind, today I made my way along the coast through Corcubión and on to Cee. Since this was my last stage on the ocean, I opted to stop at a couple amazing beaches along the way.

The approach to Corcubión had some very steep sections and once again, the heat was probably the hardest bit to cope with.

Both Corcubión and Cee have more of a working harbour vibe but are very nice. Definitely not as touristy as Finisterre.

On paper this was one of my shorter stages at 12.5km but after a couple pit stops, the actual distance covered was 16.5km.

Cee is home for the evening before a (daunting) inland climb that is waiting for me first thing tomorrow morning.

My favourite stamp in my ‘Credencial del Peregrino’ thus far. Such wonderful hospitality and kindness that I stumbled upon on my way to Fisterra.

Leaving Lires, a had two fairly decent climbs to get out of the valley before the path turned back toward the Atlantic.

Even though the ocean remained hidden for much of the day, the sound of waves crashing against the rocks carried through the trees. It was a hot one, and I’ll be honest, the final 3 km felt like a real grind.

Even though this isn’t the end of my Camino, knowing the history of this place made it feel really special.

The name Finisterre comes from the Roman Finis Terrae which translates to “the end of the earth”. To the Romans, this western point was the last place the sun touched before falling into the sea, the edge of the known world at that time. Standing at the Finisterre lighthouse and watching a sunset, you can’t help but feel that old belief instantly.

On paper, this stage was 13.5km but with detour to check out Praia do Rosto and a walk out to the lighthouse to catch the sunset, I logged a 22.5km today.

And yes, I had something on my lens when I did that timelapse of the sunset but didn’t notice until it was too late 🤦‍♂️.