My Way (of St. James): The End of the World

Once upon a time, a girl headed out on a journey. She walked for days, weeks, even months. She crossed streams and climbed hills and mountains. Until one day she arrived at her destination and it discovered it wasn't finished. Not really. So she continued and eventually reached the End of the World.

In other words, Finisterre. While still staying in Santiago, and not having enough time to walk the distance, Mom and I took a bus tour to Finisterre and Muxia. We visited a Roman bridge. Think of it! Something that was built more than 1,500 years ago that's still around, still used, and still in good condition. (Though I'm sure it's been repaired just a couple of times throughout the ages.)

For some reason, Mom always feels the need to pose for pictures. I'm not sure why. But she can't pose for a selfie!

It really was a beautiful location, all green and dewy. Not the decimal system. I'm not even totally sure that's spelled correctly because with or without an "e" before the "y" looks weird. So we visited Finisterre and saw the lighthouse, and took a picture at the "0 km" signpost. It didn't really mean anything to me other than that's what people do. But it wasn't underwhelming like arriving at the cathedral in Santiago de Compostela. It was rather like the latitude marker in Key West, which is actually better remembered for the pie and Ernest Hemingway. Who cares about the marker? It's not the point. As someone on the Camino forums said, it's the journey that counts.

We also went to this fishing village. More than sleepy, it was pretty much deserted. Hopefully the people were all out on their boats and the town wasn't just deserted because that would make things really creepy, as if one aspect of the church isn't creepy enough.

This church looks fairly normal, doesn't it?

The first thing that's different about it is actually pretty cool. Well, it isn't cool, but it looks cool. There's a snake in the holy water basin. Or whatever it's called.

But then there's this:

It's a creepy Jesus. An yes, it's supposed to be creepy. It's made with real hair, real teeth and real fingernails. Ew.

We had some very nice fish for lunch in another town, at the second restaurant we tried on a square full of seafood restaurants. The first didn't have one of the specials. But the fish was the second course. Mom didn't like her choice for the first course.

Look at that expression. She was eating razor clams. I think. Some kind of clam, anyway.

Isn't it so cute? Not! This would be its mouth.

And a little farther down would be its poopy guts!

I politely declined to trade my delicious fish soup for Mom's clams.

And finally we arrived at Muxia. If you've seen the movie The Way, you might recognize the site. They're at the "beach" in the movie, and Martin Sheen's character delivers his son's ashes to the waves of teh cold, gray ocean, setting him free. That rock is, according to legend, either the tiller of the stone boat that brought Saint James back to Spain or it's a pagan thing that if you stand or crouch underneath the giant rock you will be granted fertility. I would have, just for kicks, but Mom wouldn't come over. She was afraid of falling on the giant, mostly flat rocks. Of course knowing her she was probably right. But I didn't get a picture of me participating. In fact, because of that, I didn't participate in the tradition. It seemed silly and weird to do with so many others there from our bus and nobody with me. But it was very nice and felt more like an end to the Camino than Santiago.