Walking through the mountainous regions of the Bierzo region and entering Galicia marks the final stage of our pilgrimage to the city of Santiago, which is now about 125 km away. Climbing to the village of O´Cebreiro, scaling a mountain in a straight vertical climb to its summit at 1,500 meters, gave a great sense of accomplishment to every pilgrim who surfaced in the lovely town at the top. At the summit, the westerly winds from the Atlantic are suddenly tangible, and the climate shifts into a maritime brew of breezy, wet seaborn air as we enter Galicia, the fourth and final region through which we will pass.
Two days earlier, we scaled Monte Irago where the Cruz de Ferro stands as a solemn monument for pilgrims who have left their momentos, carried from home or picked up along the Way, at its base for centuries. The foundation of the soaring wood and iron cross is covered with an extraordinary pile of stones, tokens, messages, and a multitude of pilgrim prayers. Stuart and I also left our tokens there.
Tonight, after following a grueling 24 km detour through what seemed like endless up and down switchbacks, mud and scree, we are in Samos, a grey-stoned monastic city perched in a Galician mountain valley, lost in a quiet murmur of waterfalls and mossy verdure. The contrast with the sunny Meseta of just two weeks ago is reflected in what we now wear as we hike: the rain poncho rarely comes off now as the weather in Galicia is wildly changeable from minute to minute with wind, rain and sun mixed up in this crazy patchwork climate. We attended Vespers and Mass this evening in the monastery and a cheery priest sang a sweet blessing over the pilgrims in attendance.
Having come this far along the Camino, many pilgrims we have met along the way are reappearing in these last days, some of whom we have not seen since Pamplona or Burgos. They all co-mingle in loose Camino families who travel together in bands. Some of these pilgrims have shared with me their more personal reasons for being on the Camino and I have been deepened and humbled by their stories. So now we travel together in twos and threes, sometimes talking, often silent, often fatigued, but eager to reach the end of our journey in Santiago. Some of us will go on to Finisterre, but that is up in the air for most. Our walk together, one way or another, is coming to an end.
