Welcome to the End of the World

Finesterre. It was the end of the world as they knew it. Back then.

Predating Christianity, people journeyed to  Cape Fisterra on the Costa da Morte (Coast of Death) where they believed the sun died, bringing the worlds of the living and the dead closer together. Finisterre is now the traditional end of the Camino Santiago, although some will continue to Muxia. Maybe next time.

Santiago to Finisterre would have been an additional four day walk. We rode the 2.5 hour bus ride with numerous stops picking up and dropping off passengers along the way. Our destination was a small, six room boutique hotel, family run, attached to a restaurant priding itself on home grown vegetables, local beef, and fresh fish. Hotel Da Natureza Mar Da Ardora’s most appealing feature is the view of the ocean and the sunsets. We can lounge on our balcony, watch and listen to the waves crash the shore, and soak in the last remaining sunshine of the day. The restaurant next door fills with people and visitors from the town for a drink and a dinner and a view.

Olga and I retreated to Finisterre for a few days of nothing. Lazy hours filled with catching up on our journal writing, lounging in the hot sun, strolling down to the beach; an early evening drink followed by a delicious meal capped with a glorious sunset. The hotel also hosts a small spa with a hot tub, sauna and pool. We enjoyed  it’s pleasures.

Today was our excursion to the lighthouse point, the end of the world. It is a rugged, rocky terrain overlooking the ocean, too treacherous to wander close to the water. Apparently pilgrims would burn their shoes to mark the conclusion of their journey. A bronze shoe is mounted on a boulder to signify the now defunct tradition.

I had been porting a stone unearthed in the stage walking towards Melide. A quartz boulder separated itself from the road’s ledge offering a trove of splinter pieces to the passing pilgrims. One muddy chunk molded into my hand and found a pocket in my cargo pants. Olga questioned the additional weight for walking. I planned to toss the stone here, at Cape Fisterra. I ventured as close to the edge as I dare and threw the stone into the ocean, releasing the weight, shedding the burden;  a symbolic end to our journey.

On our return from the end of the world, we joined a noon Sunday mass in progress at Santo Christo de Fisterre, a  deteriorating block structure holding about 60 people in unadorned walls of stone. The parishioners appeared to be responding to a series of statements about faith, typical of a ceremony involving one of the sacraments. From the back, searching between the standing congregation, we caught a glimpse of the priest pouring  water over the forehead of a dark haired baby, offered by the young mother and father. We were witnessing a baptism. Simple and intimate. At the end, the father raised the child in the air facing the congregation; a round of applause to welcome another birth into the community. A new beginning.

On Tuesday we begin our trek home leaving by bus to Santiago, then by train to Madrid for an overnight stay and a mid-morning flight back to Canada.

Nosotros comenzamos de nuevo.