Distance traveled: 31.6 kilometers

About an hour past Olveiroa, pilgrims face a literal fork in the road. There are two coastal towns on this Camino: Fisterra and Muxía. They are practically the same distance from Olveiroa (Fisterra is slightly further). I had always intended to walk to Fisterra first and then walk up the coast to Muxía; Fisterra is definitely the more popular destination of the two towns. This is in large part due to its name: Fisterra, or Finisterre as it’s anglicized, literally means “the end of the earth”. Before the discovery of the Americas, this was the edge of the known world. People have been walking to Fisterra even longer than they’ve been walking to Santiago.

At this point it was October 30. For some reason, during my last couple of hours of walking the day before, I’d started to think that I should reverse my plan and go to Muxía first. That way, I could spend Halloween night at “the end of the world” (which is how it will show up if you tag the place on Instagram). That seemed appropriate! Fisterra is also famous for its sunsets, and that seemed like a great way to end my Camino.

Therefore, when I got to the fork in the road, I took what in this case was literally the road less traveled by and headed for Muxía.

I ended up walking the rest of the way with Chad, a young guy from Missouri who I’d been seeing since leaving León but never spoken with. The conversation ebbed and flowed; we didn’t have much in common other than our shared pilgrim experience, but I think we were glad for each other’s company given that it was raining. It wasn’t the worst rain I’d experienced, but it was steady. Thankfully, it was much warmer than it had been on the other rainy days, so it was much more comfortable from that perspective.

Our first view of the Atlantic came without warning, while we were still six or seven kilometers outside of town. It was a surreal moment, just as much as arriving in Santiago had been. As of that moment, it was finally accurate to say that I’d walked across Spain. I literally started this journey in France and now had reached the opposite end of Spain!

As usual, it felt like it took forever to actually get into town; it was probably another hour of walking from the point where we first spotted the ocean. When we finally got into town, we saw a couple of French pilgrims at the bottom of a staircase that led directly into the water. Pilgrims are encouraged to cleanse themselves (probably spiritually as well as physically) in the ocean and, more practically, to let the salt water soothe their aching muscles. The French guys assured me that the water wasn’t cold – they had been swimming – so I took off my shoes and socks, handed my phone to Chad to document the moment, and waded in. I stood in water that came up to my knees, and it felt great. Had I been with my other Camino friends, I might well have gone for an actual swim, but in that moment I felt like the brief encounter with the water was sufficient and decided to keep going.

Rather than go to my albergue, I kept my backpack on and continued to the edge of town, at the end of the peninsula. (The Camino markers lead to this point, too.) Here, there is a small church and then a series of interesting rock formations. It is said that the Virgin Mary came to see Saint James here in Spain, arriving in a stone boat (remember, I stayed in a place called the Stone Boat in Rabanal del Camino and said it was significant!) and landing here in Muxía. The rocks are supposedly the remnants of her boat. I confess, I never did figure out which was which (you’re supposed to be able to see specific parts of the boat). Nonetheless, the place has an air of holiness and power about it, not least because it is the end of another Camino! The way markers end at kilometer 0 here.

After this, I finally went back into town and to my albergue, which was lovely and very clean. I washed my clothes and then had a quiet and delicious dinner alone at a seafood restaurant. It was hard to believe that I only had one more full day of walking ahead.