439. A monument to a pilgrim who died at this spot in 1993, just one day's walk from his destination. Two small bronze shoes are in the centre of the grotto.
440. A small church in a peaceful grove
441. Here at last, at least in an outer suburb of Santiago
442. The chapel of St Mark at Monte do Gozo
443. The interior of the chapel
444. The closer we got to Santiago the more the cyclists emerged
445. The sculpture at Monte do Gozo
446. The facade of the pediment showing marking the pilgrimage to Santiago that Francis of Assisi made in 1212
447. Detail of this facade. The flowers and stones have been added by the faithful.
448. Further detail of the stones added to Francis's basket
449. Another facade of the pediment. This represents the several Camino routes as the fingers on a human hand.
450. Just arrived in Santiago!
451. The Plaza de Praterias and the southern facade of the Cathedral
452. With Nicole (Switzerland) at the Pilgrims Mass
453. The Botafumeiro, the enormous incense holder, at rest
454. Self-portrait of Master Mateo, creator of the Porta de la Gloria, at the rear of the pediment of the centre piece of the entrance, facing towards the main altar
455. Some happy pilgrims in Santiago. The three happy amigos had walked from Le Puy in France.
456. Marjolein and Manon (Holland) about to embrace the Saint behind the altar
457. A view of the Cathedral's western facade, reconstructed in the C18 in the Baroque manner
458. The Hostal de Reyes Catolicas, a state owned luxury hotel in the Plaza de Obradoiro on the western side of the Cathedral. The building was constructed on the instructions of Ferdinand and Isabel as a pilgrim hospice in 1492. The hotel's name refers to them.
459. Celebrating arrival in Santiago: Erica, Gerhard, Gudrun and Angela, all from Germany
460. More celebrations!
461. Farewell drinks: Gabor (Hungary), Slawomir (Poland) and Marjolein and Manon (Holland)
462. Swinging the Botafumeiro in the Cathedral at the conclusion of the Pilgrims' Mass
463. With Di (Daylesford) and Annette (Fremantle) in the Pilgrims Office
464. Courtyard of the Colegio de San Jeronimo. The statue is of Bishop Fonseca. 
465. Three lively women in a Santiago park. Pick the interloper.
466. The view from the Quintana of the Living onto the eastern facade of the Cathedral. The Door of Pardon is immediately behind the young woman using the mobile phone.
467. Looking back at the fishing village and port en route to the end of the world, Finisterre
468. Erica resting en route to Finisterre
469. The coast leading to Finisterre
470. Approaching the lighthouse at Finisterre
471. The end of the way
472. A pilgrim monument. The lighthouse at Finisterre is in the distance.
473. A last view of the Cathedral, looking into the fading western light down one of the outer aisles
This post belatedly completes that commenced in Santiago in early June but abandoned because of difficulties in using the computer in my hotel.
Azrua to Monte de Gozo, Tuesday 3 June 2008
My last post had taken the journey down to Boente on Monday 2 June when I had planned to walk onto the lovely riverside xunta albergue at Ribadiso but, impatient to push on (and to find a farmacia for my cough), I went onto the larger Azrua. Stayed at the fine xunta albergue there and had dinner with Franz and Celia, the lovely Dutch couple with whom I had shared much of the journey on and off. Franz is a retired plumber, enjoying in retirement gardening, walking his dog and spending time with his three daughters (not necessarily in that order). English is his third language, German his second. Celia, who reminds me so much of my sister in law, Betsy, has stronger English. (I have no Dutch, of course!) Indeed, I do not think that there is another native English speaker in the albergue tonight or last night either. Tonight, the dominant tongue is French (including from Quebec). They are mostly new faces to me since I have, in a footling impatience to be in Santiago, have left a few friends, including Thomas from Heidelberg, behind.
I awake on Tuesday a little unsettled. On the previous night group of Spanish school kids had talked long after lights out lin the area just outside the dormitory. They were friendly, happy kids without a word of English, I suspect. I didn't give them any gratuitous advice about beauty sleep as I threaded through them in my underpants (who wants to carry pyjamas 800 kms?) en route to the toilet. It seemed too risky. Anyway, I woke finally at 6 am with the Frenchman in the lit next to me, who had studiously avoided eye contact, breathing over the back of my neck and snoring loudly. (All beds were pushed together.) This was not a welcome spooning. Time to get moving.
Again, as yesterday, the walking was not especially memorable, mostly through small hamlets and farms, a lesser version of what we had seen before but diluted by increasing modernity, urban landscape and the built environment. I even missed my beloved cuckoo this morning--it has been such a treat to hear his/her call. This is post-cuckoo Spain. It hit me this morning why the Compostella is given only for the last 100 kms to SdC: the previous 700 kms do not need any further reward. There was nothing today of great historical interest except for the delightful chapel of San Marcos at Monte del Gozo (see below). But, like yesterday, there were stands of eucalyptus forests imported for pulp timber production. Any Australian would feel at home here.
I had planned to walk on only to the albergue at Arca do Pina, completing Brierley's (my guide book) second last stage (20 kms). A heavy cold made that seem prudent, with only 21 kms then remaining to SdC. However, I'm afraid that I missed the turn off to the Arco do Pina albergue (who says you can't get lost with the Camino's generous signage?) and kept going some way before I realized my mistake. No backtracking! I kept on going until I reached Monte del Gozo (the Mountain of Joy), from which medieval pilgrims might, on a clear day, see the Cathedral at SdC, a mere 4 kms away. Nowadays, the view is obscured, including by a football stadium. The albergue at Monte del Gozo is an enormous, ugly xunta albergue that houses 800 pilgrims in barrack style huts that have 8 persons in 4 bunks per room. Brierley calls it a "modern grief", not a joy, but it had a very friendly hospitalera and it is reassuring that there will be accommodation for all comers.
Looking back on the day's long walk to Monte del Gozo, some things stay in the memory.
The first was the hamlet of Lavacolla (literally 'washing one's loins') where medieval pilgrims washed themselves in preparation for their arrival in SdC.
Second, by the roadside on the way towards Lavacolla was a memorial to a German pilgrim who in August 1993 collapsed and died at the spot just one day's walking short of his destination. Tiny bronze shoes stand inside the stone grotto. There have been a number of other memorials to pilgrims who died en route to SdC including a fine sculpture to a German cyclist pilgrim near Molinaseca. (Both of these memorials are captured in photos on this blog.) To my knowledge, only one pilgrim died on the Camino in or around my cohort of pilgrims, a 60 year old Frenchman who had a heart attack climbing the hill to Cirauqui from Puenta la Reina in early May, a day before I made that climb. Death is not a constant companion on the Camino but the pilgrim demography and the demands of the road make it no stranger either.
Some reflections on expression of faith
In Monte del Gozo, there was a memorable Mass in the Capilla de San Marcos, celebrated by a young Latin American priest for a congregation of 7 only. He and I were the only males. The altar server was a girl of about 6 or 7 with her grandmother (they were locals, not pilgrims). The capilla is very simple and is the last physical connection with the site that medieval pilgrims would have known. There is a a stone pieta (Mary cradling the crucified Christ in her arms) behind the altar. A modern statue of Mary is adorned with the many pairs of Rosary beads. These add greatly to the simple beauty of the medieval capilla as a powerful, moving witness to the deep faith of the local and pilgrim communities that it serves. This was one of the most moving Masses that I took part in in Spain.
Indeed, it is impossible not to be moved by the faith of the church communities in modern Spain that add Rosary beads to a simple statue, stones to the numerous grottos, a plastic madonna to the base of a 200+ year old tree and a thousand other manifestations of a faith deeply held and comfortably expressed. Take one further example at Monto del Gozo itself. There is a large sculpture there commemorating Pope John Paul II's visit as part of his pilgrimage to SdC in 1992. At its pediment are four bronze sculptures. One shows St Francis of Assisi as a pilgrim. In the sculpture the saint's face is entirely bare--there is no representation at all of his features--but he is given a basket and a cane walking stick. The basket has been filled by pilgrims or other faithful with stones and the stick festooned with flowers. These additions are deeply moving, for this pilgrim at least, for their spontaneous expression of affection and belief.
So also is the thought of the privations suffered by the millions of pilgrims to SdC who, unlike their modern successors, turned around and walked home. Many would have carried from Tricastela to Castanuela the large limestone blocks used for the production of lime for the mortar in the construction of the Cathedral at SdC. Their spiritual relief was hard earned.
Monte del Gozo to Santiago del Compostela, Wednesday 4 June 2008
At about 8 am I arrived at the Praza Obradoiro, the square on the western side of the Santiago Cathedral and the traditional pilgrim entry point to the Cathedral. It was a grey day but that did not dampen the joy of completion.
Pilgrim rituals in Santiago
Pilgrims would ritually enter through the Cathedral, the terminus of the pilgrimage and the site of the remains of the Apostle in shared belief, through the interior portico created in the C12 by Master Mateo, the Portico de la Gloria. To do so they would first climb the steps of the Cathedral and enter via the external portico (the present exterior portico was rebuilt in the mid C18). The entrance and both porticos are both closed for restoration work, presumably in preparation for the Holy Year in 2010 when the feast of St James, 25 July, falls on a Sunday. (This would not be a good year, and July especially not a good month, for a pilgrimage unless you are the Pope.)
The pilgrim ritual involves attending the daily Pilgrim Mass at noon at which the celebrant announces the countries of origin of the pilgrims who have just obtained their Compostella (the certificate of completion of the Camino) from the Pilgrims Office. At the conclusion of that Mass, the botafumeiro, a giant incense burner, is swung across the altar, from transept to transept by a team of 8 men. (Transepts are the lateral arms of the cross that with the long nave make up the church's design.) It is great theatre and rather steals the show. The botafumeiro's original function may have been to fumigate the pilgrims or the smell and contagion they introduced despite loin washing at Lavacolla. Now it is the entertainment de jour. Cameras go mad, including mine.
The more individual elements of the pilgrim ritual in the Cathedral include putting your hand in the Tree of Jesse, the central column of the Portico de al Gloria. (The portico itself tells the Bible story in stone.) Holes have been worn in in marble by the millions of pilgrims who have done this over the millennium. The pilgrim then touches her or his brow to that of Master Mateo, the creator of the portico, whose statue stands at the pediment of the central column but facing the altar. (The hope is that his genius is contagious. Sadly not, in my case.) When I arrived both actions were formally denied by Cerrado signs and barriers although some determined peregrinos were sighted crossing them in a quiet moment to complete these rituals. When one elegant woman in high heels, who had walked clearly no further than a car or tourist bus, jumped the barricades to be photographed, the guards intervened and added a further barrier and heavier policing. One pilgrim is happy that he got there first, and placed his hands with those of earlier pilgrims and shared their journeys more intimately.
Another element of the pilgrim ritual is to climb the stairs behind the mail altar of the Cathedral and "embrace the saint", that is, hug the large gilt covered statue of St James from behind. Brierley's guide says "Perhaps lay your head on his broad shoulders and say what you came here to say."
Finally, you may proceed to the crypt under the altar and kneel before the gilt casket containing the relics that inspired millions to make the pilgrimage to Santiago, far from their homes, often in inhospitable conditions, and then turn around to make the return journey. It is not clear how many modern pilgrims believe these to be the remains of the Apostle beheaded by Herod in Jerusalem in 44 AD. Even for those like the writer, whose motivation for the pilgrimage has a substantial religious component, the authenticity of the relics need not be the core underpinning for the journey. Uncertainty does not diminish either the pilgrimage experience generally or that of prayer in the crypt.
In one sense it is fortuitous that I was unable to enter Master Mateo's Portia de la Gloria. This means that my pilgrimage remains incomplete, unfinished. That is utterly apt. Even if I had crossed the portico, the pilgrimage, my Camino, would have continued upon my return home to Sydney and in the years beyond. Not entering this portico, not making the entrance to the Cathedral that so many pilgrims made before me, emphasizes the Camino's incompleteness. All who leave Santiago as pilgrims remain such; some of us have this reminder of our continuing pilgrimage with an interrupted journey through the Portico de la Gloria.
Meeting old friends again
I spent a few days in Santiago that I had originally planned to spend in London catching up with someone very dear to me. (Plans changed with her return south.) That gave me time to catch up with old friends from the way as a new wave of pilgrims arrived each day and to meet new pilgrims such as Chris and Jean from NZ. Some friends are shown in photos above. Others who are not include Terry (Dublin), Jennifer (Rhode Island), Thomas (Heidelberg), Deiter (Germany), Franz and Celia (the Netherlands), Harry and Lisa (the Central Coast, first met at Orisson and not seen since Roncesvalles), Francois and his buddies from Le Puy, also met at Orisson, Greg and Annette (Fremantle), Serano (Byron Bay) and a number of the German women from La Faba. Jennifer and I were looking out for Sallie (Ontario) whom we had farewelled in Leon, hoping that we might see her one last time on the Camino that she had been reluctantly forced to relinquish because of the risk to her health. We did not. She had been in our thoughts then and is in mine now as I write this.
There is a great sadness in knowing that I shall not see most of these people again. However, we have the tie of the shared journey and fellowship. These greetings and partings are bitter sweet.
Journey to the end of the earth
The extra time in Santiago also allowed me to take the bus to Finisterre (Fisterre in Gallego), literally the end of the earth, some 90 kms west of SdC. This pre-1492 nomenclature expresses the medieval belief that the (flat) earth ended here and that the pilgrimage took you to its outer limits. Pilgrims returned home the better prepared for another journey beyond this world's limits. Some burned their clothes to mark the rebirth. Francois of Quebec told me that he intended to do so--he had lost so much weight that they no longer fitted him, anyway, he said.
At Cape Finisterre where I walked the 5 kms from the bus terminus with Erica (Koln) and Francis (Belgium), some did burn clothing but none that they were wearing and none to the extent of Brian Sewell in his documentary The Naked Pilgrim. But then Sewell made the Camino almost entirely in his Mercedes (the closing portion was on horseback) and so some extravagant gesture might have been expected as a compensatory mechanism.
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