Tumultuous!

Day 33 Arzua to Santiago 21 km

We were out the door before 6 am, and by walking steadily, with one break for cafe con leche and one bathroom break, and one chocolate break, we were at the Cathedral at 10:45. A record time for us, but we are feeling fine, but stirred up.
We checked into our room, and went back for the noon pilgrims´service. It was huge! The Cathedral was filled - perhaps 1000 people, and at least half were recently arrived pilgrims. There was no space even for more to stand! There was a great choir and small orchestra, and about 15 guys in white robes - priests - to serve the mass to all who came forward - perhaps half the people.
I teared up when they swung the botifumeria, right over my head. It takes 6 guys in red robes to keep it swinging back and forth, almost to the roof of the cathedral. There are videos on youtube if you want to see it in action.




I am about to join friends in a tavern here for a reunion. Here is Lawrence from Ottawa in front of the tavern with his compostela. I picked mine up this afternoon too. Now it is official. I walked 780 km in 33 days. Not bad if I do say so myself. And who knows what tomorrow will bring?

Mixed Emotions

Day 32 - Ribadiso to O Pedrouza - 24 km

It is the big day of arrival tomorrow - only 21 km to go, and we will be on the road by 6, as we want to be in the Cathedral for the pilgrim mass at noon.



After 33 days of journey, we will be at our destination. I am in a bit of turmoil, and I am sure I am not alone.
How will I feel on arrival?

Yesterday, I was discussing this with a woman on her second Camino. She said she felt there should have been bells rung or a brass band to mark her arrival. But it is an internal experience.

Last time, I felt flat, with little emotion - drained, really. ¨Is that all there is? ¨ I thought.After the buildup and excitement as we neared, the 32 days of walking, the anticipation. But when the botifumeira flew ( the incense burner, which is huge) I burst into tears, and was in touch with my mixed emotions and my ambivalence.

On one hand, I am glad that it is over. Unpacking every night, packing up every morning, carrying a heavy backpack, waking in the night and wondering where I am, where the servicios are, and whether I am on a top or bottom bunk, the limited choices on the menus compared to home, the wear and tear on my body, the exhaustion.

But there are losses to grieve on arrival. The end of the camraderie - perhaps 100 people we have met and had a personal connection with, and will never see again. Eating dinner every night with a constantly changing group of brave adventurous interesting people from around the world. The beautiful panorama of every day. The endorphins and high that comes with the 6 hours of walking. The freedom from responsibilities and obligations to others in our life at home. The uncertainty in returning to our old life - are there changes we want to make - do we pick up where we left off, or let go of some parts of it?

All I needed, I carried in my backpack. What about all the stuff at home?

How can I be the me that walked the Camino - my best self - in the world I return to?