Wednesday 7 October 2026 – The weather forecasting apps we had access to gave us no real help when it came to planning when to leave on our final walk into Santiago; the chance of showers varied from 40% to 60% for the whole day, which wasn’t helpful for our particular needs. So we did the default: hand our bags in to be collected just before the 8am deadline and head for breakfast. I packed my sun hat in my suitcase, on the basis that I was sure I wouldn’t need it, extracted my poncho and put that in my backpack, on the basis that I was pretty sure I would.
Diego served us a good, albeit slightly unorthodox, breakfast (avocado, anyone? Yes – me! Ed) and made the effort, when we left, to point us at the best route to follow to get us back to the Camino, which involved walking on roads whose existence Google stolidly denied. As we set out, it was impossible to work out what the weather would do (although it was possible to work out that there had been rain overnight).
We walked the non-existent road to rejoin the Camino trail
and rejoined the flow of pilgrims.
The first point of interest was in a small village called Rúa de Francos, where one building had been embellished with a couple of murals,
but where, of more interest historically, could be found the Gothic stone cross of Francos.
This is described in a nearby info board, translated by someone whose first language was clearly not English as: “one of the oldest and most unique stone crosses in Galicia (15th century), a popular imitation of the Gothic crosses, which was emphasised by Castelao in his work, The Stone Crosses of Galicia (1950). It stands out due to the apparent simplicity of its carving and the archaic shapes of the main image which depicts Christ crucified, accompanied by the figures of two pilgrims, reinforcing the link to the Portuguese Way”.
Nearby was another sculpture,
by local artist Camilo Seira, possibly honouring a local horse fair, the Feira de San Martiño, which occurs every year in November and is a long-established Galician event, dating back to the 16th century.
The sun actually began to emerge, which was very good of it, as (a) it lessened the chance of rain and (b) created the chance of a couple of cracking images.
The Camino route took us into a village called Ameneiro, where Jane spotted this horreo.
Apart from simply being an imposing construction, it’s interesting to note that it is/was a double decker, with storage below and above the rat proofing. Presumably the lower deck would be used for storing firewood or some such non-edible resource. We’d done a good 6km by this stage, and there was what appeared to be a café by the wayside which appeared to be open.
We looked in, and at first I thought we’d made a mistake, as there was all sorts of stuff inside.
Further examination showed that there was a (very unusually appointed) counter with a coffee machine and a nice lady behind it,
and so we had a coffee and looked around at some of the amazing things in the place.
By this stage (about 10.20), the sun had come out strongly, to the point where I wondered if my decision to leave my sun hat in my suitcase was the wrong one. In any case, it was pleasant walking along the path.
I should note (because these things are important to me), that we’d been walking steadily uphill ever since we rejoined the Camino. It was never horribly steep, and there were a few little dips, but the overall tenor of the route was gently but relentlessly uphill. There was a fine example of the usual “if there’s a choice, the Camino is the uphill one” scenario.
The highest point of the day was a village called O Milladoiro, where there is a chapel, the Capilla de la Magdalena tucked away among all the modern apartment blocks.
Mary Magdalena is regarded as the “fallen woman” – a repentant prostitute – in the Jesus saga, although there’s no biblical basis to support this view. In any case, this chapel definitely had her portrayed as fallen.
Also in O Milladoiro was a coffee stop at the Casa da Cultura. We refreshed ourselves (yes, I did have a beer, as I needed something by this stage to buck me up a bit) in front of a mural of Rosalia de Castro over the first line of one of her poems,
“Sing if you want to, in the language I talk”, encouraging the use of Galego.
As we left, we noted that in the few minutes we’d been taking refreshments, the sun had disappeared and it had quite significantly clouded over.
We walked on and caught sight of what we thought might be the towers of the Cathedral at Santiago.
Could it be? Paging Mr. Samsung and 30x magnification on the phone….
Yup. Looks like it. About the same level as us; but there’s a down and an up between us and it.
The down passed a highly-decorated lavadoiro,
and a shack which had definite pilgrim connotations, although exactly what they were is anybody’s guess,
and led down to the Ponte Vella de Arriba, a historic bridge over the Sar River.
Apparently recently restored, it forms part of the route connecting A Coruña and Lugo (the old Royal Road) and was originally built in the 16th century and renovated in the 18th century. It was also the point at which our online map – and John Brierley – showed two route options, one pretty straight, the other wandering about. Brierley (and common sense) indicates that the straighter route is the better option, but The Powers That Be had clearly decided against this, as the arrows only pointed at the other route. We resolutely set our faces against this and followed our online map. Whichever route one follows leads up once more and into the outskirts of the city of Santiago,
which, as you might expect, are not that rewarding to walk along. Particularly unwelcome was the start of some rain, but it exactly coincided with us passing another café, so we stopped in for another coffee. When we left, the rain had gone and the sun had returned – a lovely piece of serendipity.
Slightly off the route is a park which offers a viewpoint over the cathedral, so we headed that way. As we entered it, I had a powerful sense of déjà vu – was this the park from which I’d flown a drone for aerial photos when we were here after the Camino Francés? I was sure I was until I saw the view, which is very striking,
and I couldn’t remember having seen it before. As we walked through the park, though, I once again became more sure that it was indeed the place I’d used to launch the drone (I checked later; it was). These days, there’s a new sculpture there,
and the view from slightly further on gives a good sight of the two Mayan-influenced spires of the Cathedral cloisters.
We exited the park by the 100 year-old Sequoia tree
and took the southern approach to the cathedral which is the traditional route in from the Caminho Português. This passes the tiny Capilla del Santo Apostol
where (legend says) St James’ body was laid to rest awaiting his final burial. It’s a short step from there to the South Gate, the traditional end point, and typically the site of a vast queue of punters waiting to get into the Cathedral. We then made our way round to the Praza do Obradoiro, where one sees the famous view of the cathedral.
There was an unusual sight in the square;
this is part of a protest about rent regulations in Spain, which had been sparked off by the high-profile eviction on 23 September this year of an 87-year-old, María del Carmen “Maricarmen” Abascal (who, we read in the press, died today in hospital). We noticed a large number of people sitting in the square, facing the cathedral,
something which is also part of the same protest.
As part of this Camino, we’d treated ourselves to a stay at the posh hotel on the Obradoiro square, the Parador Dos Reis Catolicos, the oldest hotel in Spain.
Founded in 1499 by the Catholic Monarchs Ferdinand and Isabella, as the Hostal dos Reis Católicos, it was a Royal Hospital to provide free medical care and shelter to weary pilgrims completing the Camino de Santiago. The building operated continuously as a hospital and refuge for over 440 years. In 1954, following the relocation of the city’s medical facilities, the historic complex was transformed into the luxury hotel we were lucky to be staying in. Today, it stands as one of the world’s oldest continuously operating hospitality sites. Having checked in, we went to complete the staffwork for our Camino, which involves going to the pilgrim office a short walk away, and queueing up
to get our Compostelas (free of charge) and distance certificates (€3 each).
OK, the distance shown there is 634km from Lisbon. The dedicated (or masochistic) among you who have read through all of the entries for this Camino will know that we didn’t walk all of the stages, as the weather was too murderously hot in late August and early September. So here are the stats about what we did do.
- Walking actual Caminho stages: 543km
- Total distance walked since we started the Caminho on August 28: 651km
- Total distance walked since we left the UK: 677km
So, we skipped about 90km of Caminho stages, but did around 108km of sightseeing en route, plus a further 26km of sightseeing in Lisbon and Sintra. And we both did all of this walking, I’m pleased to say, in sandals (with no socks! – Ed) which is probably the closest we will ever get to the Authentic Pilgrim Experience.
Another statistic: In the 46 days since we left the UK, we have drunk 326 cups of tea.
So, that’s it, then. We’re here, and we have a whole day tomorrow to relax before going on to visit friends in other parts of Spain and then returning home. This is the last entry for our Caminho Português, which has been a great experience which we hope you’ve enjoyed reading about in these pages.
Huge thanks are due to Caroline at WalktheCamino.com, who set up the schedule for us, all the baggage transfers and some very fine accommodation all the way along the trail; she was also very responsive on a couple of occasions when we needed her expertise.
We have a few other travels in plan, but not for the remainder of 2026; I will write about them as, all being well, they happen next year. Until then, farewell!
