Left Fisterra at about 7:45 under threatening skies. I was not in the mood to walk in the dark or even walk, but I had committed (to myself) that I would walk to Muxia as my last walk of this camino.
After retying my boots too many times, I donned my rain gear and put on my pack cover. It didn't look good. Then the rain came and, of course, my boot became untied again.
Then the rain abated, and then it began anew. Then it abated and then it began anew. My rain pants were on and off. My jacket, under which I was sweating profusely, stayed on.
It was actually quite a pleasant walk through eucalyptus trees and with some ocean views. There were sheep, goats, horses, and many many farms along the way.
About half way I stopped in As Liees, where one must get a stamp to prove you didn't take the bus to Finisterra if you want the special Compostella from Muxia. Yes I got the stamp but it's raining too hard to worry about the Compostella.
After coffee, freshly squeezed OJ and a made- to-order tortilla, I got ready to head on only to realize that it was once again raining. I put my rain pants back on (in shorts by now) and set out. The rain abated again, it was beautiful, and so I took off the rain pants. BIG mistake.
It was pleasant for a bit , but then the rain came in earnest and there was no time to get my rain pants on, which was not an issue so much as long as I was in the forest. The wind was howling, the trees were swaying and I finally plugged in my iPod to help make the time pass.
Eventually, after successfully following the camino, I ended up on a road and lost the markers. I walked and walked getting more apprehensive and nervous the farther I went. Cars passed but I reached no towns or villages. Eventually, in a very small village (no cafés) I turned as a car came up behind me. The car slowed and I asked with trepidation if I were headed to Muxia. I thought for sure that I was way off track and would end up in a taxi. It was with tears of relief that I heard him say I was on the right road and to turn left at the stop sign.
At the stop sign I had 3.4 km to go. With relief I walked on and on and on. Past the beach and the roaring waves crashing against the rocks. Through town following the signs for my albergue, which is, of course , at the other end of town. Not just 3.4 km I can assure you.
I arrived at the albergue with water sloshing in my boots (yes I could pour it out and wring out my socks) and the gentleman there helped me with my wet things, brought me flip flops, carried my pack for me and took me to my bottom bunk.
Before being led to my bunk a woman appeared telling me they would be sting dice games at 3:30. You can't imagine what I was thinking (or maybe you can. ).
After showering and organizing and getting my things in the washing machine, I did, indeed, find myself playing games on the kitchen. Great fun playing FARKLE! with Julie, a John-O, Lizzie, Mary, and Doug.
So here I am eating dinner and heading to bed early to catch the first bus back to Santiago. May not clear till the afternoon do I see no reason to hang out. A shame, really since Muxia is a beautiful seasid town.
I bought gifts at my albergue--beautiful creations made by local individuals with intellectual disabilities. Wonderful.
And so my walking days on this camino are over. From now on it is a bus a train and three plames to get home. And home is where I am ready to be.
It has been an amazing journey, the benefits of which I have only just begin to realize. My friends told me they are impressed by how calm I am. Hopefully I can take some of that with me home as I begin my next camino -- life on the home front once again.
An amazing camino for which I am so very grateful to my family. This has been a true gift and a great blessing.
A pretty little village though this doesn't do it justice.
