CAMINO FINISTERRE – Cabo Finisterre

(32,635 STEPS – 24.87 KMS – 15.44 MILES)

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The Early Start

Our goal this morning was to wake early and leave Cee (Say) at 7:00 am, no later than 7:30 am. This would give us plenty of time to explore Finisterre before taking the bus back to Santiago. A quick note about Finisterre (the end of the earth). The town is not actually the end, the end is another 3.5 kilometers west, and complying with the Angry Priest/Disgruntled Nun Theory of Trailmaking (AP/DN-ToT), it is uphill all the way. The final punishment.

We left the albergue at 7:20 am, powered our way through Cee (Say), and the 1 kilometer into the adjoining town, Corcubión, where we stopped for a leisurely 1st breakfast. If there is a more perfect place to stop walking and settle for the remainder of your existence than Corcubión, I don’t know where it is. It’s a beautiful little seaside town with a very good panaderia on the waterfront.

After the perfect breakfast, I took a coffee-to-go and we set out on our merry Way. At the edge of Corcubión, the Camino turns straight uphill away from the coastline. Of course, walking at sea level is too easy.

Learning to Walk Lesson

There was a shady* little village at the top of the hill, it was a good place to stop and catch the breath after the walk up. There were two ladies resting there also, I learned they were from Canada. One noticed the coffee cup in my hand and commented:

“Carrying a coffee cup, huh?”

“Yep, I ask at every coffee shop if they have café para llevar, if they do, I always take one for the walk.”

“Well, I see enough of that back at home. Why would I want to come all the way to Spain and see that mess here?”

My hackles were raised, and I can be brutally snarky in the right moment. But one thing I’ve been learning on the Camino is how to walk peacefully. Instead of verbally skewering her, I replied:

“I love walking and I love coffee, and when I can combine the two, it’s good thing for me. Buen Camino.”

I turned on the jets and left that negative energy as fast as possible. I wonder what her opinion is on important Camino matters like E-Bikes and the wads of used toilet paper along the trail? Still, my ego burned as I blazed down the trail – I should go back and set her straight, or passive-aggressively discard my cup in the middle of her path! But I walked on, the Camino provides.

After 5 more minutes of walking in this beautiful place, my hackles** were no longer raised. We walked on around bends, through forests, and up and down the final headlands. Finally, we crested the last hill and fantastic Finisterre came into view!

We made a few more jaunts through the woods, and then arrived the beach. The official Camino path skirts around the water’s edge to town, but there was also a little staircase with a yellow arrow pointing to the beach. The shortest distance between two points is a straight line, we walked in the sand the rest of the way.

*Author’s note: When I say “shady” village, I mean it in the sense that the tall trees surrounding the village protected it from the morning sun, not in the sense that it was filled with hoodlums and rife with corruption (which it could have been, but I don’t have the information available to confirm).

**Author’s note: The hackles are the plumage or hair on the back of the necks of some fowls and mammals. If the plumage or hair on the back of the neck of a rooster or dog are raised, you are likely to be attacked. It is a figure of speech for me as a mammal without hackles.

Radical Hospitality (RH)

In Finisterre, our first order of business was to schedule our bus trip back to Santiago. We found the bus kiosk empty when we arrived, but we noticed a lady half a block away hustling up the street. When she saw us, she turned on her heels and came back to the kiosk. She was on her way to lunch when she noticed us. She came back to help us (RH #1).

With transportation secured, the next item on our To-Do List was the Fisterrana (the completion document) at the tourism office. While there, I asked the hospitable lady if we could leave our backpacks at her office so we could make the final walk unencumbered. She said no, but recommended we try any of the albergues in town.

We came to the first albergue one block from the tourism office, the Albergue Arasolis. We approached the door to beg for a small corner to store our packs. It was closed. As we turned away, a voice called out from above, an angel from the heavens disguised as a little old lady on her 2nd floor balcony. She told us to check in at the ice cream store across the street (RH #2).

Following the angel’s instruction, we entered Bajo 14 Helados Artesanos, I asked the man if he knew anything about the albergue across the street. He did, he owned the Artisan Ice Cream store and the Albergue. I asked if we could temporarily store our backpacks at either place. I also made sure he understood that we wouldn’t be staying at the albergue, but heading back to Santiago. He said of course and told us to follow him. He left the Ice Cream store unattended and led us across the street and through a narrow alley to the common area of his albergue. We stored our packs in the kitchen. He asked if we wanted to fill our water bottles before heading up to the lighthouse. We offered to pay him for his hospitality, but he refused. We promised to buy some artesanal ice cream upon our return. He laughed it off and said it was unnecessary (the interaction was RH #3).

Free from the smelly, heavy burden that had been a part of our beings for 32 days, we walked unencumbered up that final hill to the end of the earth.

The End of the Earth

There’s a scene in The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy trilogy* where the main character, Arthur Dent, climbs a long and high mountain to ask a wise man (or God, I don’t exactly remember) about the meaning of life. When he arrived at the top of the mountain, he found it filled with t-shirt and souvenir shops, and the Wise Man (or God) just beyond. That’s kind of the way it is upon arrival at Cabo Finisterre.

There’s a huge parking lot filled with cars, motorcycles, and tour buses. I agree that this is a more reasonable way to travel, but there should be special accommodation for us holy-walkers. Beyond the Mercedes, Audi, and Porsche filled parking lot, there is a big souvenir shop. Beyond that, the End-of-the-Earth Bar. If you drove to this point and have the extra energy, you can walk up the stairs to the swanky restaurant perched above the bar. Twenty meters past the bar is the 0,000 Km Marker, and a long line of people waiting to take their selfie at the mojón, mostly teenaged girls doing duck lips for TikTok and tourists that have made the arduous 10-minute drive from Finisterre (the town). Sparsely intermingled in the line were a few smelly, sun-soaked pilgrims.

After the selfie opportunity at Point 0,000, there is a bagpiper with his tip jar positioned conveniently in the middle of the path. Just beyond the bagpiper sat a guitarist with his tip jar positioned conveniently in the middle of the path. If you make it through this gauntlet still with euro coins, there is the man at the end offering End-of-the-World Stamps for a small donation.

Just beyond the Stamp/Sello/Carimbo Man was the end of the earth.

One of my friends and I walk down the rocky slope towards the ocean until we realized we would have climb back up. This steep climb would have been the result of our own choice and not that of an AP/DN. There would be no one to blame but ourselves, so a tourist took a quick picture of us, and we scaled our way back to the top.

Then we walked back through the gauntlet, back to Finisterre, and straight to Bajo 14 Helados Artesanos for some craft ice cream. After the ice cream and celebratory vino tinto, we boarded a bus like any other tourist, and headed back to Santiago.

*Author’s note: This 4- or 5- or 6-part trilogy is the finest Sci-Fi Satire ever written.

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