after several days of travel and lack of wifi access, I arrived back home in California exhausted and dirty with homework and evals overdue. Now ensues several hours of transit, then transfer of words from phone to computer to my teacher’s email. Wish me luck, Internet.

arrived in Porto. Just sat at a cafe and learned my first Portuguese word: no. It means “on”. When you see “hamburgesa no plato”, it doesn’t mean hamburger without a plate. First step toward learning a new language. Now, to find a bed for the night.

i made it back to Santiago, back to Roots & Boots, and I’m battling with the sensations it inspires to have returned to the end of the Camino proper without having walked here, and without arriving in order to meet with class.

The rain came this morning, and I’m glad I couldn’t find a bus to Porto until tomorrow— I’ll spend the day running errands and preparing for a proper vacation in celebration of my impending graduation.

muxia. The end of the road. The day to fisterra’s night. I made the walk and the naked dive into the sea during a long and intense downpour. As my friend Diego predicted, I arrived in Muxia “damp as a drowned fish.”

Arrived in Fisterre nearly delirious with the immensity of the ocean, expecting to shave my body and jump into the ocean, symbolizing the end of my Camino. Instead, I found a beach where the souls of the dead are gathered, where bathing in the water means taking them with you. I walked up the hill to the lighthouse upon the farthest point of Spain at sunset, where the sun was hidden behind clouds so thick it was difficult to discern west from south without a compass. A witch looked into my eyes and told me I must go to Muxia to be reborn, and I must make my way there alone, in silence. Fisterra is where I will let my knees recover from the steep decent into the bay for three nights before making my way to the crescent moon bay where I will finally bathe in the waters of the ocean.

descending into Cee and witnessing the ocean behind the haze of wildfire smoke was more surreal and powerful than any sight I’ve seen over the past two months. It was hard to comprehend the immensity of the ocean— it was endless and seemed to melt into the sky. It was easy to see why the ancients believed this to be the world’s end— heaven and earth meet before your eyes without interruption here. 14k until the land gives way to ocean.

20k of forest trails and photograph-worthy views have way to 13k of highway walks and industrial cow farming. Developed my first blister in weeks, gave myself a delightfully powerful sunburn, had one or two empty waterbottle fears, yet managed to limp/saunter into Olveiroa in time for dinner.

walked out of Santiago and into a forest during the muggy heat of the mid-May afternoon, sweating out the copious celebratory libations and meals ingested after reaching the tomb of Saint James.

Santiago. The door of pardon. Collection of the compostela. Falafel. Delicious seafood. Omw to heaven nbd.

25k felt like so many more today. Approaching Santiago, and the realization that this means less than my arrival in finestere has created disconnection between my fellow pilgrims.