Day 29: June 7, 2016: O Logoso to Finnisterre, The End of the Earth

 Fisterra, Spain

June 7, 2016
Finisterre
Pension Cabo
24.29 miles, 54562 steps, 59 flights, 6:50 hr

I arrived in Finisterre after a glorious day.  It seems silly to call it glorious, because it rained heavily most of the day.

Finisterre to the left, Muxia to the right

With the clouds and rain, the stunning ocean views that were promised in my guide book were absent. I spent much of the hike concerned with the practical matters of keeping my possessions dry, my electronics functional, and not slipping in the mud on the steep descent to the coast. But somehow this is how the Camino is: you are challenged and stressed, but you find that you can endure and thrive. The tough moments make the final success more rewarding. As I came off the final hills and to the coast, the rain stopped and the skies miraculously cleared. By the time I walked into Finisterre, the only remaining dampness was from my sweat.

Finisterre in the distance

Pilgrim Brad in Finisterre

I dumped my pack at the albergue, and continued out beyond Finisterre to the lighthouse at the end of the world. This is where many pilgrims bring an item of clothing to burn, signifying the end of the journey and the symbolic shedding of the former self. Some jump in the water, though usually on the calmer side of the coast. I burned a handkerchief as a token to the old Gods, and waded in the water at the calm Finisterre shore to wash the dust of Spain off my feet and to celebrate the end of a very long walk.

 

Zero km marker

 

Finisterre Lighthouse

End of the Earth

Looking back at today's hike (second ridge in distance)

Even a few months ago, I would have told you that this entire project was a ridiculous idea. Nobody can walk across Spain; it simply isn't possible: it is too far, it takes too long. 

I checked the running totals, and upon my arrival at the lighthouse, I had walked 508.49 miles, 813 Km, 1,146,171 steps. I climbed the equivalent of 1271 flights of stairs (7226m). I hiked for 29 days, averaging 18 miles each day. I walked a total of 185.83 hr at an average 4.4km/hr.  While it required commitment and tenacity, it was clearly not impossible... not even close. The truly remarkable statistic is that over 262,458 pilgrims completed this journey last year. Some of these pilgrims had severe limitations, and traveled farther; even so, they completed their journey. An even more frightening realization for me is that for modern pilgrims this is a one-way journey. Tomorrow, I will get on a plane and return home, whereas for ancient pilgrims this was the half-way point. Here, they turned around and walked home.

My journey

Was the effort worth it? Yes, although the benefits are not tangible. Well, I should mention that this is a specially declared holy year, so I did receive a plenary indulgence (complete forgiveness for ALL my sins) just for walking through cathedral door (I walked through several times, and got photographic evidence... just in case). I guess complete forgiveness of all prior sins accounts for something. But more importantly, walking through the magic door and dangling my feet off the end of the world made me recognize the potential of action.

Until very recently walking the Camino was an abstract and unattainable goal, something I might do someday: a theoretical day which would never come. Now, a month later, it is complete, not because of my super strength, stalwart character or any unique ability, but simply because I started. You CAN walk across Spain, if you start. You can learn German, if you start. You can do anything, but you have to start.

There is a website called The Buried Life (http://theburiedlife.com), and I think they also have a television program in the United States. These guys learned my lesson early. It took me 508 miles and a lot of blisters to realize: that big goals can be attained. The group has created a list of seemingly unattainable bucket list goals, such as playing basketball with Obama, having a drink with Prince Harry, and crashing a party in the playboy mansion (they're young). They define and attack the goals and quite often achieve them. For every item they cross off their list, they help a total stranger cross a item of his/her list. What a great idea!

Take a moment and dream. Think of something you want to do, something you've always wanted to do, but thought was ridiculous or beyond your grasp and ability. Set the goal high and "unattainable". Write it down. Dreams have a way of staying dreams, but once you write it down, it becomes a project. When you dare, tell a friend, then somebody else, then keep talking about it. But ultimately: take the first step.

Now, the emotional satisfaction rush of making it to the end of the earth is gone, leaving me feeling a little apprehensive and empty. I remember the same feeling after completing past life goals: Eagle Scout, University, Medical School, Residency, Radiology Boards. Now, I am back in Santiago, pondering what my life is going to be like going forward. What direction do I go now without a yellow arrow or scallop shell to guide me?

Back in Santiago

Very soon, life will get busy, my feet will heal, and I will be able to walk normally again. In the rush of everyday obligations and life, I will probably forget the lessons I have learned on the Camino. But I hope I take with me a basic confidence that our greatest aspirations can be achieved, and our greatest selves can be realized. All we have to do is take the first step, then the next, and the next.

For the experienced Camino walker there is a moment of anxiety at each intersection where we search for a yellow arrow to point the way. Sometimes it takes some time to find it. Sometimes it is cleverly hidden, or the direction is confusing. Sometimes there is no arrow and you have to rely on intuition and judgment. But there is satisfaction in finding the direction. I think the empty feeling I get after achieving major goals, is the absence of this direction. It is easy to move towards a goal, but where do you go from there?  So, while I hoped to come away from this Camino with answers and a sense of achievement, it is frustrating that I now come away only with questions, and absence of direction. But, the Camino has also given me answers. I don't need a yellow arrow to point the way; there are an infinite number directions I can go, and goals I can achieve; I simply need to pick one and take the first step.

I've written before about how I've always thought the scallop shell symbol should be set with the lines converging towards Santiago as a directional indicator. I've often felt frustrated seeing the scallop shell used in what I thought was a confusing orientation, as if to say "here is the Camino" instead of "this is the way". But now I think I've had it wrong this whole time. Perhaps it's meant to be the other way around. Perhaps the lines on the scallop shell don't represent converging roads to Santiago, but radiating paths of different opportunities and potentials.

Buen Camino Peregrinos!