Day 49 – Finishing in Finisterre

The coast leading up to Finisterre, or 

"Land's End." This fishing village is also 

called Fisterra. Either name is correct.

The last monument we will ever pose beside

that says 0.0 kilometers. (It begins over in

Santiago for those who choose to walk it.)

This is the lighthouse at Fisterra...

A timeless and rather mystical feel here.

"You can leave the Camino, but the

the Camino will never leave you."

Yet another shoe, this one bronzed

and securely attached to the rock.

Tradition was that when you reached the end,

you would burn your worn-out clothing. The

sign now forbids that activity. Why d'ya think

that makes Mikey want to torch something??

The end of the world: Atlantic Ocean.

"It took forever, and it took no time at all."

Oliver Schroer

Finisterre Point: the video.

Cool old cross, right on the Point.

Here is St. James, holding his trek pole.

Dos Amigos, posing in front of our final cross

(see background). It even has shoes around it!

This is the statue looking across the bay 

from the lighthouse.

A pilgrim who didn't quite make it to the end.

But we did!

This is our last blog post, as we don't think our

long plane rides home are worth recording.

Below are Mike and Dave's last two stories

and a poem by Sue, written especially for us.

Buen Camino, friends! 

A final story from Dave:

a horreo

Once we entered the Galicia part of northern Spain, we started to notice these odd-shaped buildings on many of the properties. A number of people we met asked us what they were for, and we all had guesses, including a place to put your unruly teenagers. We found out later that it is a storage shed for grain and sometimes dried meat for the family's use. The structure is called a horreo and is off the ground and built in such a way that the rats and other vermin can't get to the food. 

We saw a lot of these structures on our way to Fisterra. Fisterra is the westernmost point in Spain, and some pilgrims walk there after completing the Camino de Santiago. The ancients believed that the ocean west of Fisterra was the end of the world; if you ventured there, you would fall off the edge. We modern-types know better: west, for Mike and me, is home. Tomorrow, we will see our families again, and we would both jump off the edge of the world if that were the only way to get to them.

We have had a great experience, one that we will long remember. Mike and I will not allow the "vermin" of time to steal away our memories; they are far too valuable for that. Instead, we will store those memories in a special place for safekeeping, like the horreo, and bring them to our minds when we require their nourishment to keep us going. 

Henry David Thoreau did a wonderful job of describing our Camino walk, and I would love to share it with you: "So we saunter...till one day the sun shall shine more brightly than ever he has done, shall perchance shine into our minds and hearts, and light up our whole lives with a great awakening light, as warm and serene and golden as on a bankside in autumn." What a blessing it has been!

"Give me my scallop shell of quiet,

My staff of faith to walk upon,

My scrip of joy, immortal diet,

My bottle of salvation,

My gown of glory, hope's true gage;

And then I'll take my pilgrimage."

–Sir Walter Raleigh

Thanks for all your support and love. And for one last time, Buen Camino.

Vaya con Dios 

(Go with God)

A poem from Sue, written in honor of Dave, Mike, and their Camino:

Camino de Santiago: The Way Home

©2017 Susan Noyes Anderson

In days of yore, the pilgrims walked The Way

to show their piety, their love of God.

They took their sins and burdens, seeking grace,

renewing faith on every path they trod.

Their hearts were open, seeking hope and truth.

No obstacle deterred them from that goal.

Theirs was a mighty quest, a witness borne,

a promise made and carried in the soul.

Though times have changed, a few things never will.

Men still require a rock on which to stand.

Pilgrims on earth, they yearn for warmth and peace.

Each child longs for the touch of Father's hand.

An emptiness is felt, an aching need,

with foolish ways to fill it and with wise.

The world has naught to compensate the loss.

For light, the only Source is in the skies.

And so men think and plan and dream and pray,

in search of means to find heaven on earth.

They are but strangers in a foreign land,

missing a memory lived before their birth.

Life is a pilgrimage, a journey home.

All men must make it, each in his own way.

Camino is the same, a simile,

with burdens and with blessings every day.

Some travel well, some wounded, some distressed.

The happiest find strength in those around.

They give and they receive in equal part;

and in their presence, love and joy abound.

They bring us home, as Mike and Dave have done.

Our spirits have been fed and fed again.

And following their footsteps, we have felt

the sacred touch of Father's hand again.
∞§∞

"We are pilgrims on the earth and strangers.
We have come from afar, and we are going far."
–Vincent van Gogh

A final story from Mike:

I don't think I have ever been so tired as I am right now. It is 3:00 in the afternoon. We just got back from Fisterra, which was an hour taxi ride out to the coast, an hour visiting the lighthouse, and an hour back. Fisterra is known as the end of the earth, and it is the westernmost part of Spain. It's where the pilgrims sometimes go after they arrive in Santiago. The tradition is, as they get there, to burn their clothes and other items they are "sick and tired of wearing." For us, it is the end of our Camino. It has been a most amazing trip, and a large part of that has been each of you reading our blog. Thank you so much.

I am packing up and leaving on a 6:45 AM flight from Santiago de Compostela across the pond and landing at 8:55 PM in Fresno, California to begin a week's family reunion in Yosemite National Park wth my family of four kids and 14 grandkids, my brother's family of three kids and five grandkids, and my sister Annie's two boys...totaling a bunch!

I wanted to end with this thought: I love my sister Annie and the great support she has given me on this trip. Thank you, thank you. I have known Annie her entire life (she is 16 years my junior), and she is beautiful, athletic, caring, bright, and incredibly talented. Her photography should hang on walls of prestigious galleries around the world. Annie is one of the bravest people I know. She is a fighter who has overcome inner challenges that are not visible from the outside. She suffers from anxiety and depression; most of the time she can control it, but it can creep back. The organizations like Didi Hirsch and National Alliance for Mental Illness are helping many with similar challenges and inner battles. I am glad that a number of organizations around the world are raising large sums of money through donations for causes like multiple sclerosis, cerebral palsy, breast cancer, diabetes and more...but mental illness is significantly more difficult to fund. There remains, for reasons that are in no way valid, a stigma that interferes with the giving. Many still have a difficult time even talking about mental illness and the ones it affects. It is the unspoken illness of our society and can lead to tragic results.

We hope you will take a moment and visit the sites for Didi Hirsch of Los Angeles and NAMI of Santa Clara to view the positive programs they offer. Then, if you heart is moved to do so, please consider donating to the cause for which Dave and I walked the Camino. A small donation can make a huge difference to a real person like my sister, Annie. Buen Camino, my friends.

 Mike's remarkable sister, Annie

Click below to support mental health and

suicide prevention, the causes Mike and Dave

are championing with their walk.