Day 33 - Santa Irene to Santiago - 24 km

I knew as soon as my feet hit the floor this morning that I would be going to Santiago. They were not feeling sore anymore and I was full of excitement to reach my destination. After a great breakfast of toast with jam, Melba toast with cheese, orange juice and cafe con leche, I set out in the dark. I hadn't taken out my headlamp so it was a bit tricky going through the woods. I've tried to capture the darkness in the picture, therefore it's pretty much just a picture of nothing :) As I walked along I just about jumped out of my skin when a booming voice came at me from the right side of the path. It was a stupid motion detected billboard from an Albergue up ahead, welcoming me to the Camino. This thing is one of the dumbest things I've ever seen.

I felt so full of energy that I was walking much faster than my usual pace. I was even passing the tourist pilgrims, who now had blisters and tendinitis from going too fast. In my excitement I neglected to stop after a couple of hours and to take off my boots. After about 12 km my left calf started to cramp up so I slowed down. But the cramping only got worse the more I walked so I finally took off my boots for a rest and a stretch. By now the pain was not going away and I'd acquired a bit of a limp. It was nothing too major though and the limp made me more authentic walking into Santiago with dozens of other pilgrims who all had limps too! In this picture is Capilla San Rogue at Lavacolla, about 10 km from Santiago.

Just before the walk into the city many pilgrims were gathered outside this quaint little church, Capilla San Marcos, for a final rest. I found it amusing that right outside the church there was a concession stand selling beer and pop and playing Adele 'Rolling in the Deep'.

It took about an hour and a half to walk into and through the city from San Marcos. These golden scallop shells in the sidewalk marked the way. It was one of the weirdest experiences and I don't think I'll ever forget it. Walking through the streets of the busy city with my backpack and poles, dodging traffic, moving off the walkways before groups of school children pushed me onto the street. No old men waiting in the streets to point the direction with their canes. No old women blowing kisses and saying Buen Camino. Everyone rushing and nobody paying any attention at all to those darn pilgrims who don't pay attention to the street signs. These people must get so sick of pilgrims getting in their way. For a minute I was thinking, "hey, I just walked across this whole country to be here", and there I was, just another person in the way. Very humbling experience really.

Eventually the busy city became the old city and a sense that I was getting closer to the church. As I turned down a street I could hear bagpipes. They were being played by this fellow for change and I stopped to give him some because the beautiful sound sure intensified the amazing experience of walking into the cathedral square.

I stood for some time, just looking at the cathedral more in awe that I'd made it there than in the church itself. I became quite choked up and did not try to hold back the tears. After subtracting bus distance I have walked 700 km across Spain. Now that is something.