The guidebook says that the 27-kilometer Camino route between Finisterre and Muxia spans rugged Galician countryside, so I expected the walking to be challenging. But it wasn’t. In fact, the route is relatively tame compared to some of the terrain I’ve been walking on in the last month. The trail is pleasant to be sure and I enjoyed it immensely, despite that it’s been raining most of the day and my blisters make walking uncomfortable.
I had hoped to see more of the Atlantic Ocean, since the trail loosely follows the coast, but I only had a couple of distant views until I reached the outskirts of Muxia, where suddenly the sun made a rare appearance, just long enough for me to snap some photos of the beautiful beach and outcrops of rock, into which waves crashed, spewing water well into the air, before the sun disappeared again behind the clouds. And then the rain came again.
The first thing I noticed about Muxia is how colourful it is. I walked up a hill just to get a better view of the town because it just looks so darned pretty. It looks like someone touched up an old black-and-white photograph with coloured pastels. The town was quiet. I hadn’t seen a single person until I arrived at the port, where the street was filled with pilgrims and others, sitting under covered patios at the numerous cafes, enjoying the culinary delights of Muxia.
I indulged in a meal myself while a few birds watched me closely from their perches on nearby chairs. The food was typical of what I’ve been seeing in Galicia, which is to say that it’s very plain. A bocadilla francesca is essentially an omelette sandwich. The meal arrives arrives with the salted omelette sitting lonely between two halves of a white bun. There are no tomatoes, no lettuce, no ketchup, no butter, no cheese, nothing. Just the omelette and the bread. Today’s meal is no different – fried eggs and french fries, well salted, with nothing else. It’s kind of like the food I cook for myself. Plain and boring. Feels like home.
The rain continues to fall and I find myself missing my friends from the Camino del Norte. I’ve written a haiku for each of them, but forgot to gift them in the end. A man tries to make idle conversation with me, but I’m not interested. I just want to be alone.
This is the end of the Camino de Finisterre for me. I’ve walked nearly 120 kilometers to both Finisterre and Muxia, which was my plan, and I don’t see a compelling reason to complete the loop back to Santiago, walking over trail I’ve already walked twice before. I’ll finish my meal, grab the bus to Santiago, and then another bus to Ferrol on the northern coast, and tomorrow I’ll set out on my next Camino. The English Camino.
Here are the haikus for my Camino del Norte friends:
Birte
Your surfing passion,
Like a life philosophy,
Inspires my own life.
Kaitlin
That first friendly smile,
You offered your breakfast chair,
And then we were friends.
Greg
A true gentleman,
Friendly, caring, genuine,
A fine example.
