Now what could possibly put a dampener on our last day of adventure on the Atlantic coast? Yep, rain. Or not even rain, just a constant fine misty drizzle that somehow manages to make you soaking wet through every conceivable layer of rain protection. Positive spin: This is what makes Galicia so fresh and lush and green, so I guess it’s a price I’m willing to pay.
So after a gorgeous breakfast – the breakfast menu at LiresCa is much better and more varied than any we had seen so far! – we headed out into the wet air, dodging cows and marvelling at the happy forest soaking it all up. The double arrows were a fun change, and after a climb we could see the coast just below us. I remember thinking that view must be fantastic on a sunny day!
And then … I walked it again not long after, with Carol of Camino Confidence and our handful of lovely ladies, and had the chance to stop at the same place and take the same photo … it was every bit as lovely as I had imagined.
On this particular day though, one of the main sights was a group of same-ponchoed people walking ahead of us and providing a bit of rainy-day colour for our photos, especially on the hills. When the drizzle suddenly turned to a full size downpour, they started running, which was even more fun! We heard their shrieks and giggles through the rain drumming on our ponchos until they disappeared over the top. I hope they had a great time in Finisterre!
When we arrived at the donativo Peregrina café, a rest stop in someone’s private house where all pilgrims are welcome to sit down and help themselves to hot or cold drinks and some simple snacks (paying what we can, not just taking), we chose not to stop – it was very busy, so we wouldn’t get a seat, and wouldn’t make us any drier or get us any closer to our hotel. We had about an hour and a half of walking left, so on we trudged. Shortly after we met a bubbly lady who’d got lost and wandered several kilometres off route already this soggy morning – she lit up when we told her there was a rest stop not far off, and informed us that there was an open café 4 kms from Finisterra, only a km or so down the road. Love it when we can all brighten each other’s day!
Speaking of which, I’m not going to drag you through the last 4 kms of the walk that day. The little café was an absolute oasis, of course, and the rain was relentless, and the hotel a bit out of the way (not really) – fantastically wonderful and quirky, but a bit far in wet shoes, we agreed. So I’ll fast forward to our welcome drink and snack, while we waited for the room to be ready, and our subsequent delicious dinner and breakfast in their garden room restaurant! Well deserved after a wet walk.
And then … it was my turn. Last year it was poor Nanci coming down with something, this time I started coughing after dinner and couldn’t seem to stop. Early in the morning Nanci decided to put some distance between us so she wouldn’t be ill on the way home again, so she left the hotel and found a room just down the hill, nearer the centre. She went up to the lighthouse on her own, we met up with the nice lady from O Logoso again, which was great! and we went to the pizza place (down the steps and in through the window) for a garlic and chilli heavy pizza to make new plans. We’d have separate rooms in Santiago anyway, and in Porto after that, and hopefully I would be over whatever it was soon. We decided to get a taxi back to Santiago the next day rather than risk passing my cough to a whole bus, and then I went back to my quirky hotel and started packing up. And so it is that I have only one photo of Finisterre this time, and this is it:
But our adventures weren’t quite over yet, so I took my paracetamol and dug my Fisherman’s Friends out of my first aid stash, and prepared to start the slow journey home.
Somewhere Slowly 