Through the Grace of God I made it safely to Santiago. The cathedral risking up like a spiraling city of granite is a sight to behold. Exquisitely hewn from Galician granite the facade combines early Gothic baroque and neo classical elements. How hard it must have been to create such a fortress out of the stubbornest of stones.
Unexpectedly the last leg into Santiago proved as frustrating as the middle with the grueling hills. Ironically the road to Santiago is responsibly marked except when you arrive into the place proper. Suddenly all the yellow and blue scalloped shells disappear once you get into the city. Because it is the off season, I had to walk two kilometers or more to an albergue that was closed. In fact the beautiful albergue of seminario menor opens in April. Then I trekked even longer to three albergues that according to the app seemed open only to find they were closed. At this point my cell battery gave out and I could not tell where I was. I asked a young man on the street if he knew of any albergues that were open and he waved his head back and forth in an annoying look that is characteristically Spanish in that it twists two or three conflicting emotions into one; in his case repressed anger disdain and boredom.
Down on my luck sprawled out on a stoop next to a car repair shop, I see a young man with a staff and the clearest of icy blue eyes as if you were peering into a glacier with a mountaineer pack sauntering down the road from behind me. Here is another pilgrim, I think, perhaps he has found lodging.
“Excuse me, are you staying at an albergue up that way ?” I ask. “No.” he says.” I’m just walking to Santiago. I am heading to the cathedral.” Turns out here was from an island in northwest Germany and he had just got into the city on the French way. I walked with him a bit figuring the chances of finding lodging would be higher in the area around the cathedral. But not more than 100 meters on the rue de conchiers that was torn up for massive repairs with metal barriers and yellow metal bridges for pedestrians to pass through the obras I spot am albergue “Estrella de Santiago” that although dark had a sign that brought hope “Abierto.”
“ Bye,” I told the German chap. I had to rest my feet. I did not know you needed to go on another Camino once you finish the Camino to find an inn to sleep and take a shower.
The albergue was indeed open but you had to call a number in order for the hostelera to let you in. Because that charlatan in the boys de choice metro station had sold me a dud sim through an exclusive offer from Lycamobile “It will work all over Europe” he said. I had no phone. I ask a construction man to please make a phone call for me. He makes the effort to come out of the pit of construction ditch he was working in, walks into the vestibule of the albergue to read the sign only to say no tengo móvil. I ask another Grandma coming up the road with a loaf of fresh bread in her hands and she turns up her palms and says I left without the cell phone.
Luckily I walk into the beauty parlor next door and ask the stylist, Trini, if she would let me call the number of the hostel next door as my cell is not working. “Oh, we were just talking with her,” she says applying dye to the neck of a client getting her roots done. “She left ten minutes ago.”
Just my luck.
But what I have realized on the Camino is things that turn out badly on the surface only hide a greater good ;don’t confuse the messy packaging for the gift it hides within it. As it turned out Ana the proprietor of the E S. Is an angel. She gave me the code to enter the hostel and pick any bed I wanted. I was alone. Ana, a former social worker and teacher, had acquired the business two and a half years ago. Everything was going swell until COVID hit. For two years she had had to keep the hostel closed. In fact she had only opened it a week and a half ago. Her first pilgrim of the season was a South Korean.
Ana’s generosity, attention to detail, and loving hospitality made up for the difficulty of the end of the road. She too has visited many cities in the uS esp in Tennessee and Mississippi because of her passion for American 50s and 60s music. As a music historian of swing, bebop, rockabilly, and early rock n roll she has interviewed the members of Elvis Presleys band including Priscilla his ex-wife.
Too exhausted to take a tour to Finisterra, I stayed another day in Santiago to really explore the cathedral and it’s environs. It’s medieval charms made up for its less than happy welcome. As a non-Catholic I was taken aback by the elaborateness. Without knowing it my soul led me to the most ancient of chapels the Virgin and it was there that I truly prayed. I prayed for everyone in my family those we had lost I prayed for peace in Ukraine and Russia. But mostly I gave thanks that God allowed me to make the journey. I had been filled with so many splendors. So many sights and smells. My soul was over full and spilling over. I will have many tales to tell and many songs to sing about this journey.
I went to the office of the pilgrims and filled out forms to receive my official Compostela certificate. In the side chapel I was overwhelmed and cried in front of the statue of St James as the white billboard scrolled.
The lady who filled out the certificate for me actually came out from behind the office and asked if I needed a hug. I told her every Camino is bueno if we walk with God. She even gave me a prayer card with the Saint on it.
In total I have walked 106.75 miles equivalent to 170 kilometers. I have taken in the beauties of Portugal, the hidden gem that I would love to live in, and the roving countryside of Galicia.
I am truly blessed!
