Startpoint: Salceda; Endpoint: Santiago de Compostela; Distance walked: 29.5k; Steps taken: 36,759.

Today we were joined by a dog. We first saw the dog in Portomarin, more than 100km ago. We don’t know if it started there, or how far it has come. It was young, very friendly and very very hungry. This morning when it ran up to us, we made the stupid mistake of feeding it, so it hung around for most of the rest of the day. We christened him Santiago, after a quick vote to decide between Santiago, Senor Sanchez and The Lone Ranger.

At one point, I thought I had lost Santiago, which was a great thing. The last thing I wanted was to be looking after a huge stray dog while walking through a big(ish) city. He had actually just taken a short cut and was waiting for me as I came up the hill. I think I’ll write a book about Santiago the Pilgrim Wonderdog.

We finally lost him about 5k from the Cathedral in Santiago. He followed a couple walking in the opposite direction. They looked like they had food. I hope he’ll be okay.

Walking into Santiago’s old town, I thought I got a sudden bout of fear and concern for the dog. I’d heard what sounded like somebody strangling a cat. It turned out a busker was just playing bagpipes at the gates of the main square. The sound was so painful, they must have done it to dissuade non-pilgrims from crowding the square. It worked.

It felt like a long difficult walk today. Maybe being so close to the end, we were all expecting it to be over quicker. It wasn’t. It dragged. And dragged. And dragged. Trying to avoid a large hungry stray dog didn’t help

We finally entered the cathedral and saw the giant swinging incense thing. It was originally used to mask the smell of dirty, sweaty disease-ridden pilgrims. It really didn’t look big enough. As we admired the interior, we were approached by a member of the cathedral staff and told to get out. After walking 800km with a 12kg bag on our back, we weren’t allowed enter the cathedral with those same bags. They didn’t fit in. To look at the cathedral, we’d first need to deposit our rucksacks several streets away, so as not to disturb the ambiance of the place. Made us really feel welcome. We haven’t been back yet.

We’ve since checked into a hotel and had dinner and a few drinks. We also wrapped the remains of the Jellyfish-Blister in three pairs of socks, four plasters, two bandages and a knee-brace. The evening has been spent meeting and greeting old faces, drinking €1 beers and reminiscing about experiences from earlier in the walk. The three of us who walked together part ways here: one to Portugal, one home to Ireland and one on to Finisterre, the ‘end of the earth’ on the Atlantic Coast. It’s a bittersweet evening – no more blisters, bed bugs, snoring, sweaty sleeping bags, or stray dogs; but no more camaraderie, €2 bottles of wine, or laughing at the newbies.

This is the end of the Camino de Santiago. But I’m not going to finish here, I’m going to Finisterre.

Buen Camino