Day Seven on the Camino Sanabres – Lestado to Santiago

The final day of walking our Camino dawned clear, sunny and moderate temperature (around 62 F) and we awakened refreshed from a good night at Casa de Casal. The country air at night made for a sound sleep! We headed down for breakfast of fresh yogurt, home baked rolls and their own jam plus the tasty Spanish breakfast options of Iberian ham, Manchego cheese and fresh olives. As we’re almost finished, a knock sounded on the front door and it was Elaine, who after she left her municipal albergue three km back in Outerio, decided to stop in Lestado and see if we were still there. We invited her in and she had a great “second breakfast” with us – OK, maybe it was a first – and we left around 9 am for the 14 km expected “easy walk” into Santiago.

A great day to walk to Santiago

The route out of Lestado was well-marked and an easy walk through farms and small settlements, leading us northward. There were more hills than we expected but generally it was as expected for the last day. Joan & I had toughened up considerably, we thought. The kilometers passed easily and we stopped in Los Cruces for a welcome café con leche, there again meeting up with Tony from Ireland, the man who had given us good tips about bars with Irish music for us to visit when we’re in Doolin in June. It wasn’t until we reached a point where the Sanabres crosses the highway that trouble hit. 

Steep, steep!

There was a huge construction project going on that required a detour straight up a 500 meter hill. That was considerable steeper than my fused left ankle could handle, so it required me to sidestep up all the way. Whew! It was getting hot too! From the top, we could see the huge modern gleaming steel and glass sports complex outside of town, looming like a giant beast over the landscape but no sign yet of the cathedral towers that would signify that our long-sought objective was getting close.

The Renfe Train Crash Memorial

Once over the highway and soon after the construction, we crossed over the Renfe railroad tracks and suddenly the horrible train crash that happened during the Holy Year in 2013 flashed across my mind. This was the place- the curve – where the train flew off the tracks and killed & wounded several hundred passengers. The steel chain-link fence on the overpass we were on was covered with cards, concha shells, notes and pictures, all placed there in remembrance of the crash and the lives cut short or changed at this spot four years ago. It was a very moving moment for all of us.

The Cathedral Spires in sight!

We walked through quiet suburbs and street for a while until at the crest of a hill, suddenly there appeared, about two miles away, the looming and unforgettable three high towers of the Santiago cathedral. It was a moment to savor for all and as we three were standing there in quiet awe, Daphne and our Maltese friends from Punta Ulla came walking up, so we gathered for a celebratory picture. Both Joan and I got teary-eyed, overcome after so many years of trying and failing to get.

It was all downhill (we thought) from here and we fairly flew down the street under Elaine’s guidance. We passed over the river and through a beautiful garden, heading towards the old city but unexpectedly the road rose again. The Old City had been built on a hilltop in the medieval days for defense against brigands or surprise attack and thus we had to walk up and up some more. I was suddenly feeling tired, even though the excitement of the moment had been carrying me forward, so I sat by the side of the road on a raised sidewalk, just to catch my breath. 

An elderly Spanish man - he looked like a resident heading home - was walking up the sidewalk and as he approached me, he stopped for a moment, then came over to me and putting his hand on my shoulder, said: “Buen? Buen? You’re almost there now; only a few more steps. You can do it!”  I was stunned for moment by his concern & kindness but then replied: “Thank you, senor. I know I can do it. I was just resting for a moment”, and then rising, Joan and I turned and started up the street again. 

I sometimes write in these blogs about viewing a day on pilgrimage through a “GIRLS” filter, meaning GI- What Gifts did I give others today; R- what gifts did I Receive: L – what did I Learn and S – what was the Sparkle in my day – the thing, person, happening or time that makes that moment shine brightly in my memory.  For this special day, the “S” belongs to that kind man who thought enough of me, an unknown & perhaps flagging perigrino, to give me a precious gift of reaching out and expressing care for my well-being.  Thank you – your kindness of spirit will remain in my heart and remind me to pass on your gift in kind to someone whom I will meet, someone who, like me on the steps to Santiago, needs a kind word & a helping hand.

 

We finally came to the Rua de Xelmirez, a main street where Elaine bid us goodbye, since she was staying at one of her favorite albergues nearby. Joan & I made our way to the big Plaza de Obradaira, fronting the main entrance to the Cathedral, now closed for a massive restoration that’s been underway for several years. Elaine joined us and we took the obligatory “We made it!” photo and then walked to our hotel, the San Francisco Hotel Monumento, a four star hotel housed in the former Franciscan monastery a few hundred meters away from the cathedral. It was pricey but we figured we’d trying for 35 years to get here, so why not celebrate in style once we made it?