A Postcard From... Galicia Pt 2.
The final days on the Camino and reaching Santiago de Compostela!
The final days of the Camino were filled with a mix of emotions—excitement to reach Santiago yet a bittersweet feeling knowing it would all be over so soon. There was also the impending sadness we were trying to avoid, knowing we’d have to say our goodbyes. But in true Camino fashion, we embraced each day to the fullest, powered through foot pain, and ended every evening with ice cream.
Read about the first three stages of the Camino here!
Camino Pt 4: Galicia
107 Miles | 4,073 meters (13,362 feet) of gain | 7 Days
Castro - O Piñeiral - O Cádavo - Lugo - As Seixas - A Peroxa - Santiago De Compostela
Lugo - As Seixas - 22 miles
As with any apartment stay, we slept in and enjoyed a leisurely breakfast before heading out the door. Joachim, Erik, and I started earlier, knowing that, as usual, Fritz and Ana would catch up with us eventually. The walk out of town greeted us with plenty of incline to kick off the day. I think my feet, arches, and calves enjoyed our rest day a little too much—they were not happy with me for most of this trek.
We spent a good portion of the day leapfrogging between the three of us, walking together, pairing off randomly, or going solo—something that tends to happen when a lot of inclines are involved.
At one point, Erik and I lost track of Joachim, but we caught up with him around lunchtime at a small café, where we also ran into our Scrabble friend for the last time. He was taking a few extra days to reach Santiago, so this was our final goodbye. It felt strange to say farewell, knowing we might never see him again but that his story is woven into our Camino journey.
Later in the afternoon, we found Ana and Fritz taking a break with cold drinks, and naturally, we joined them. My feet were grateful for every break they could get, and in the heat, any cold drink was welcome.
The last 3 kilometers of the day were rough—I had to switch to my Birkenstocks because my feet couldn’t handle my shoes anymore. (Walking 500 miles in them might have something to do with that...) Our albergue for the night was pretty bare-bones, but we were thrilled to reconnect with another friend we hadn’t seen since our shared bunk cabin in Guemes a few weeks earlier. Taking a rest day had given others a chance to “catch up,” and it felt like a fun little reunion as we approached the end of the Camino.
This "town" had almost nothing—just the albergue and one small restaurant, which we knew would be our dinner spot. Since kitchens here never open until at least 7:00, we wandered over around 7:10, only to discover they had already closed. The look of concern on our faces (and maybe fear from some of the guys) must have worked in our favor because the waitress allowed us to put in quick orders. The kitchen, thankfully, whipped up a meal for us even as they were about to start cleaning. Good thing, too, since we didn’t have any food of our own!
The evening ended with us watching Germany lose to Spain in the Euros, much to Fritz’s dismay, while the Spaniards around us celebrated.
As Seixas - A Peroxa - 24 miles
Our breakfast situation was bleak—between us, we had a few pieces of white bread, some crackers, and a container of jam. With that meager start, our mission for the morning was clear: get to the next big town and find a real meal.
This was our final morning on the Primitivo before merging with the Camino Frances—the busiest and most touristy route of the Camino. All Camino routes converge with the Frances somewhere within the last 50 miles, so it’s notoriously packed. As soon as we arrived in the next “big” town and officially joined the Frances, the change was immediate. The peaceful, quiet Camino we’d grown so used to was nowhere to be found.
We regrouped for lunch, and while the kitchens were closed, we managed to get our hands on a massive tortilla and although we were a bit tortilla-ed out at this point, no one complained since we were all starving.
Ana, our designated snack queen, had arrived earlier and stocked up on afternoon provisions for us. One of Fritz’s long-standing quirks is his rule that whenever he sees half a pineapple for sale, he has to buy it. This became an ongoing joke, and sure enough, Ana had snagged half a pineapple. Eating it on the go wasn’t the most practical choice, but with a Swiss Army knife and sticky hands, we carved it up and devoured it together during our walk that afternoon.
To avoid the crowds of Frances hikers, we opted to stay in an albergue about 4 kilometers outside the nearest town. Before reaching it, we passed through one more busy town and treated ourselves to a much-needed ice cream break. By this point, the neck pinch I’d been dealing with for weeks had flared up again, and I was struggling, so the ice cream and a breather were exactly what I needed to push through the final stretch.
When we finally arrived at our albergue, we were greeted by familiar faces we hadn’t seen in ages, including Julian, who we’d had dinner with in Bilbao. He and a few others had stayed on the Norte route longer, but since every Camino eventually merges with the Frances, we found ourselves reunited. They planned to take two more days to reach Santiago, but we were pretty determined to finish the next day.
A Peroxa - Santiago de Compostela - 24 miles
The final day—how crazy! The morning began with utter chaos. After a breakfast of white bread and jam at our albergue (fitting for the last day), we took our last group photo and set off. Within a couple of miles, we found ourselves surrounded by what seemed like a massive organized school group—teenagers everywhere, running, blasting music, and yelling to one another. Let’s just say it wasn’t exactly the peaceful morning we were hoping for.
The entire first half of the day continued like this. If it wasn’t the school group, it was another large, loud, organized group shouting directions and scrambling to keep up with their leader.
Thankfully, by the afternoon, we had walked far enough that most of the crowds had finished their day. We stopped for a late lunch and powered up with enormous sandwiches to tackle the final 10k. It hardly seemed real that we were so close. Although we’d been split up a bit over the past few days, we made the final push together. Along the way, we took a quick detour to visit the Statue of the Pilgrims on Monte do Gozo, about 4 kilometers from Santiago. From the high point, you can see the cathedral in the distance—a surreal moment and hard to believe we’d be there in a few kilometers.
At that point, we realized we were racing the clock. The Pilgrim Office (where we’d get our Compostela certificate) closed at 7 p.m., and Pilgrim Mass started at 7:30. Spoiler: we missed both, but we figured we could handle those the next day.
As we entered Santiago, we navigated through bustling city streets filled with more people than we’d seen in the past month combined—many of them just tourists. Then, as if scripted, someone began playing “Amazing Grace” on bagpipes as we rounded a corner to see the cathedral for the first time. We dropped our bags, huddled in a big group hug, and just stood there, in awe that we’d made it.
7/7 at 7 p.m.—we finished our Camino.
It was surreal to arrive in Santiago. The plaza wasn’t crowded with pilgrims as it was late in the evening after our 24-mile push. Instead, tourists wandered around, taking photos and going about their day, blissfully unaware that we’d just spent a month walking nearly 550 miles to be here.
We sat in front of the cathedral, taking it all in. Erik turned to me and asked, “How does finishing the Camino compare to finishing the half-Ironman you did earlier this year?” A great question. My answer? They’re different. For a half-Ironman, you train for so long, and the finish is this big celebration with medals, cheering spectators, and other athletes. The entire event revolves around celebrating finishers. The Camino, however, is more personal. You spend a month of your life walking, and the finish is a quiet celebration with yourself and your Camino friends. Maybe you recognize a few other pilgrims around town, but there’s no big finish line or medal waiting for you. Both are incredible physical accomplishments, but in very different ways. Needless to say, there would be a lost of processing about it to do later.
We tried to make it to the Pilgrim Mass, only to find it was at capacity. So instead, we opted for a well-deserved drink. We had an amazing Airbnb not far from the cathedral, where we dropped off our bags, finally showered, and headed out for a fun evening. Dinner and ice cream felt like the perfect way to wrap up such an unforgettable day—after all, it wouldn’t feel right to end it without ice cream.
Santiago de Compostela
Originally, my flight was scheduled for this day, but I managed to change it, giving me a couple of extra days with everyone before heading off. Waking up and realizing the Camino was officially over felt surreal. I was grateful, though, to have this time to enjoy with my friends before we all went our separate ways.
We had a slow morning, made breakfast, and then set out to explore Santiago. Retrieving our compostelas turned into a longer ordeal than expected—our switch from the Norte to the Primitivo seemed to puzzle the staff processing our certificates. Once sorted, we wandered through the city, stopping at thrift stores where the boys picked up some fun shirts. Seeing them in “normal” clothes felt oddly jarring after a month of hiking gear.
Dinner was back at our apartment before we suited up for something we felt was a rite of passage: the evening pilgrim mass. The cathedral was packed, and while I didn’t understand much (the entire service was in Spanish), it was beautiful inside.
After mass, we embraced the celebratory spirit. The boys sported their new shirts, and Ana and I found $5 dresses to join in the fun. We ventured to a local karaoke bar, where the Wednesday night crowd was a quirky mix of high schoolers and retired Spaniards. Despite the language barriers, we sang and danced the night away.
The following morning was bittersweet—it marked the beginning of our goodbyes. Ana surprised us with breakfast, then disappeared for a bit only to return with her hair freshly chopped. It felt symbolic, an end to one chapter and the start of something new. It was the start of over half the group doing something to their hair. Erik had been keen to shave his bleached blonde hair, and Fritz, after our jokes about Steve Irwin all month, opted to brighten his hair with a few highlights.
Before she left, Ana wanted to see the inaugural chopping of the blonde locks so we all crowded into a local barbershop to watch Erik’s transformation. Though he’d envisioned a simple buzz cut, the barber had other ideas, leaving the tiniest bit of blonde on top—a look she assured us was “popular with the boys in Spain.” Afterward, we walked Ana to the bus stop. Saying goodbye after spending the last month together was tough as I spent all but one day of my Camino with her. It was sad to say goodbye knowing when I will see her again (We have talks about meeting up in the future, just have to figure out the logistics and hopefully the crazy boys will join us as well).
Fritz’s hair adventure led us to a beauty school offering discounted highlights as he didn’t want to pay too much. I didn’t want to express my concern as you never know what you’re going to get from beauty students… but he seemed confident in his decision. At this time, Joachim had to head to the airport to pick up his girlfriend who was coming in to meet him but as they would be staying in a hotel together, we said our tentative goodbyes as he planned to stop by the next day.
In the meantime, while Fritz was still at the salon, Erik and I headed back to the cathedral to explore a bit more as we hadn’t been able to during pilgrim mass. It was beautiful but absolutely packed - I had no idea how many non-pilgrim visitors there were. We capped our outing with ice cream (can’t go a day without) before going to see Fritz’s final look which turnedout WAY better than expected! He had sent us a photo of his hair in foils and I was fully convinced he was about to be striped like a chipmunk, but his hair turned out great.
That evening, the three of us had one final quiet night together. Without our full group, it felt strangely subdued, but we filled the hours reminiscing, laughing, and dancing—maybe drinking a bit too much to stave off the reality of the coming morning. For someone who rarely cries, I couldn’t hold back a few tears.
The next morning came too soon. We said an early goodbye to Erik, then Joachim stopped by with pastries for breakfast and his final farewell. Fritz left for the airport shortly after, and then it was just me.
Walking alone through Santiago felt strange and heavy. For over a month, I had always been with someone. I came prepared to do the Camino solo, but I’m so glad I didn’t have to. Those four people—Ana, Erik, Fritz, and Joachim—became our Camino family and I am so happy to call them some of my closest friends. Sharing this journey with them made it one of the most memorable months of my life.
Maybe it’s cliché, but I think Abuelo Ernesto from Guemes put it best: The Camino isn’t about the miles you walk, but the friends you meet along the way.
What a great trip and absolutely loved your story. Sorry that it has ended.