Santiago

I had walked over 1200km and cycled a further 400km by the time I topped the Monte de Gozo; the hill which offers the first glimpse of Santiago, city of the Apostle and the destination of Christian pilgrims for over 1000 years.

It was an incredible feeling seeing Santiago spread out below after all this time and effort.I had started early to make the pilgrims mass at midday and arrived at the Cathedral as pilgrims, tourists and locals were filing in.

I can't say I understood that much since I'm not that familiar with catholic liturgy or Spanish but I felt peaceful and complete as I watched and listened.

It's been over a week since I finished and quite a surreal reflection sitting poolside at a resort in the Philippines.

One of my purposes in coming was to build up my fitness and strength after a course of chemo and over 4 years office work. I now feel fit, cleansed and as healthy as I've been in many years.

I also feel really inspired by the wonderful gardens and farms I've seen throughout France and Spain. I have picked up plenty of ideas to try out on the farm at Harcourt.

Finally, I've had the time to think a bit more about Mum and how much I loved her and how I will miss her. I left a little tribute at the Cruz de Ferro where pilgrims leave something they have brought from home; in my case my monkey tag which was my symbol on the Camino.

I have loved my time on the road. Its been a wonderful opportunity and experience! I would highly recommend walking the Camino to anyone.

The Home Stretch

Whilst lunatics such as myself might walk from central France, the Catholic Church requires only that one walks the last 100 km to Santiago to gain the 'Compostela' certificate.

I've been told that it's impossible to get a public service job without the Compostela. Rumour perhaps but the Camino is a real institution and the Church hugely powerful.

Whatever the reason, numbers on the Camino increase fourfold or more from Sarria and the new comers are all locals. Many are out of shape and jokes are made about catching buses and taxis. I have seen an amazing number of advertisements for taxi services!

The walk to Portomarin saw steady rain but the new comers kept up a constant barrage of conversation despite soggy sandshoes and shredded 5€ ponchos. They set a pretty reckless pace too and my efforts to outrun them largely failed. I expect alot of casualties.

The countryside is incredibly beautiful here and the closer one gets to Santiago, the more eucalyptus forests dominate which is, for me, a wonderful reminder of home.

Goodbye Fanta

Fanta was a brilliant bike and I was able to keep up with the Lycra crew day after day. With a single speed, the choice when it comes to climbing hills is to push hard or walk. I'm sure the young Spanish guys had a private chuckle at first but on day 4, one of them came over to shake my hand.

It was pretty hard to let her go but I had finally caught up and the hills of Galicea were looming. I left her in a tiny village church with a note to the priest suggesting it be provided to someone who could not afford a bike. Not difficult to find in rural Spain.

Spanish Cities of the Camino

Sitting in a bar with a seriously cheap red (less than a dollar), I am thinking about these wonderful small cities of Northern Spain.

I have now been to Pamplona, Logrono, Burgos, Leon and Astorga. On my previous Camino, I visited Bilbao and Santiago. I am, in short, an expert.

These towns have a charm and vitality which even extremely cheap wine can't account for. Ranging in size from less than 100,000 to a little more than 300,000, they have vibrant centres and a street life which involves all the community from young to old.

The tight medieval cores create a perfect setting for bars and restaurants. The dense populations within a few kilometres help fill the streets... no quarter acre blocks here! People use parks and gather on the streets. Festivals and other cultural events draw people in from across the region creating parties that even Melbourne can't match.

Finally, Spain and even France are quite cheap compared to Australia. A three course meal with wine starts from less than $15. Decent accommodation can be had for $60. I'm regularly paying $40 and $150 for the equivalent in Australia. You don't have to be cashed up to eat out in Europe.

Meseta Madness

Today I rode from 6am until after 6pm, stopping only briefly for food, drinks and a chat with Werner; the mighty Austrian, last of the French crew. I managed almost 4 walking stages and travelled over 110km. Not bad on 5 hours sleep and in 30 degree heat.

Today's stint massively improves my position and puts me well within reach of Leon tomorrow.

The Meseta was neither as flat or treeless as I expected. I can imagine it seems an extreme place to European eyes but it would hardly provoke comment in Australia. There are trees, rivers, irrigation and to a cyclist, significant hills.

On account of the later, I really pushed it to the limit today. My knee was starting to give me problems and I would have stayed in a hostel 17km short of here but the woman was an evil price gouger; may St Jacques curse her!

On arrival in Ledigos, I found a walled oasis. The dorm was full of the usual sweaty pilgrims and somone was snoring already. I asked about a chambre and lo and behold; for 18€, clean sheets and my own room... I am in heaven.

Finished the menu del dia in 30 minutes flat and am now in bed. Pure bliss. Oh, and my first bath since home... And a pool but I'm just too rooted to be bothered.