Today is my last day as a perigrino, as I depart Cee and walk just 8 more miles to Finisterre.
I have one big problem with being on this side of the Atlantic. I keep forgetting that over here the sun sets over the Atlantic rather than the rises as it does at my home in Lincolnville Maine. I have only been here three weeks, not long enough for me to get reoriented to this new reality.
There was a bit of road walking this morning.
Brierley’s Camino Finisterre Pilgrim’s Guide lists numerous locations and legends that are associated with points of history here. He describes the Altar to the Sun Ara Solis and the sacred stones Piedras Santas as ancient initiation and ritual sites. I plan to visit those sites on our day off from hiking tomorrow, but I’m not sitting around at the end of the world. I only want to hike more.
The Roman reportedly built a legendary city names Dugio here, a place where legionnaires retired to live out their days. Brierley leans toward flowery mystic language frequently in this book. He waxes on with a suggestion that Finisterre may have even been the actual Elysian Fields.
Other historians have gone do far to posit that Finisterre was the original and favored location for the burial of Saint James.
No matter. We have not seen any of the spiritual aspects of Finisterre yet. That comes tomorrow.
So far, we have only witnessed a ragtag band of tattered and neon bedecked Peregrinos limping past below our third floor window here at the best albergue yet, Cabo da Vila. It’s the sort of place that is magic. This place holds 52. It is sold out every night all season, and then the owners take 4 months off. I love being here, now.
I booked 2 nights’ here, at the recommendation of David Rooney, the Irish Hiking Machine. I was initially disappointed when Marcia and I were led to two clean bunks, top and bottom, in a room with eight other people. I thought I had reserved a private room. But the friendly owner directed us us to this place and I accepted. It was clean and we need to stay somewhere. I struggled a bit about whether to speak up and risk putting myself into a conflicted relationship at the end of our trip with or just grin and bear it, as I am typically used to doing.
I decided to go back down to the desk and inquire as to whether there were any options in the building that would leave me with a private room for Marcia and I. The owner opened her reservation book and said that she had one room available but it had a queen size bed and a bathroom adjacent to the room. We’d pay just an additional €16 for our upgrade. We quickly moved our backpacks up to a most enjoyable situation, on the third floor, with a homeward view across the Atlantic.
Here are some representative samples of our day.