1997 in official retirement, with my 65th birthday around the corner, my niece, Jo agreed to come with me on the last 100 kilometres of the Camino Frances. We took a flight to friends nearby. We got our walkers’ certificates, – stamped in different locations over a hundred kilometres stretch, gained us the title “CompostelIana” Our climb, up a 5km steep hill, to the mountain-top village of O Cebreiro was both exhilarating and challenging. The morning sun shone, the sky hung way above us, like a vast beautifully coloured canopy and since the legendary tale, the Holy Grail is hidden in that mountain-top, kept us going!

After a short rest and a simple snack, we left the village, in order to reach Triacastela before dusk, twenty-one kilometres further west. The sun continued to shine. After a hilly start, the gradual descent to Triacastela on a wide-open landscape alongside the river was a bonus. I’d never seen so much sky of such spectacular colour. It was an auspicious start to our journey. We continued at a leisurely pace for about ten kilometres and then stopped for ‘aqua potable’, (drinking water). We walked quietly for about another hour, each at her own pace. I felt like a solitary pilgrim in a vast expanse. Suddenly the heavens opened and torrential rain poured down on us. We were drenched from head to foot. Though this was a sun shower that soon cleared up, it left us sodden. More and more the rucksack straps dug into my skin. I began to long for the flesh pots of Egypt! Eventually, as darkness began to cover the sky, we saw a few lights ahead. Triacastela was within reach, a small village, one that had not been built by the “Celtic Tiger”. We knew accommodation would be scant, so we gratefully accepted two small rooms over a shop/pub, where a few men played cards. The rooms were small, the sanitary facilities were outdoor!

When I dislodged the rucksack the straps had dug in deeply into my shoulders. Jo applied a few bits of Elastoplast. She then opened her sack, all her clothes were damp or wet, she had neglected to put them into a plastic bag. There were no drying facilities in our rooms. Somewhat downcast, we reviewed the situation, as we ate some food side by side with the card players.

It is amazing how a glass of red wine and a plate of hot stew can clear away the fog. We agreed to pre-book future accommodation through “Turisimo Rural.” On the following days Jo dried her damp clothes in the sun, on the run. She found a plastic bag to prevent further trouble. I made two shoulder pads out of my clothes and pared down to minimum my already scant belongings. We slept and rose to the gift of a new day.

The Walking Pilgrim
With scarce belongings on your back
And enormous heritage in your soul
Free from material things You greet
many people
And love even more.
Free from material things you smile
and give away good wishes.
This is how you climb and climb.
Feet firmly on the ground
Walking to your dream
(Author Unknown)

On days two, three, four and five the glorious landscape, silence and inner freedom gave me a marvellous sense of well-being. We took the Southern route to Sarria via Samos, where we stopped to admire the huge Benedictine monastery. We followed along the winding, delightful River Ouribio, into Sarria. Here we enjoyed a relaxing evening meal with other pilgrims. Our accommodation was excellent. The luxury of a warm bath, a good night’s rest and a healthy breakfast left us ready for the 22km to Portomarin. As in the Book of Genesis “evening came and morning came” on the subsequent days, and we found them “very good”. During four days we had almost walked far enough to earn our Certificate, we had covered 94 Km.

Day 1: O Cebreiro – 21 Km -Tricastela
Day 2: Tricastela – 25Km — Sarria
Day 3: Sarria — 22K – Portomarin
Day 4: Portomarin -26 K – Palais de Rei

As we left Palais de Rei on the fifth day, we saw the field where pilgrims gathered for the onward journey. We didn’t join them! It seems rather like balking at the last fence. However, our goal was to do 100km. My bones were beginning to ache and the noise from traffic was increasing. We decided to walk about 12km to Melide, stop for lunch and take a taxi! It was an inspired decision.

Loreto McLoughlin rsm
Western Province