Oct 30: I woke up and hit the trail by 8:00. I was happy
about not having to wait around until 9:00 like I usually did while waiting for
the sun to rise. With the time change, I could hit the trail at 8:00. I know it
was completely a mental thing for me since the sun has no idea what time it
is—it just rises when it rises. But the artificial constructs of time had been
problematic for me at times when hostels pushed me out before sunrise and opened
far earlier than I had any use for. Now the sun was better synced with my
internal schedule.
It was another pleasant but warm day of walking. Not really
much to report. I chatted with a few new people on the trail I hadn’t met
before, but just the usual topics about where we started the trail from, where
we lived and how long we’d been out on the trail.
I arrived in the town of Fisterra late in the afternoon and
checked into a private hostel. It was a wonderful hostel, but I didn’t linger
around long. I headed out to grab dinner at around 5:00, but was thwarted
multiple times when every restaurant I tried told me that they weren’t serving food
until later in the evening. Why is it so hard to find food at 5:00 in the
afternoon?!
I wound up eating some snacks and a Coke instead.
Before sunset, I walked the last few kilometers to the
lighthouse at Finisterre—often called the ‘end of the world’ because before
people could accurately measure longitude coordinates, it was believed that
this point sticking out into the ocean was the most western land in Europe. It
isn’t. In fact, most of the Portugal coastline is further west than Finisterre,
but without an accurate way to measure longitude, they didn’t know that for
thousands of years.
I was a little discouraged upon reaching the end of the
world, however, because the place was packed
with people! Hundreds of them! Not just pilgrims, but tourists of all types.
Cars and busloads of people spilled out everywhere. There’s a tradition that
pilgrims burn their clothes here, but I wouldn’t do that. And everyone likes to
watch the sun set at the ‘end of the world.’ It had been a beautiful, clear
day—and the skies were still clear—but a thick layer of fog shrouded the
horizon. I definitely wouldn’t be seeing the green flash, which I had hoped to
watch for.
Shortly before sunset, some of the fog pushed up the
mountainside and enveloped our lofty perch. The sunset was a bust. Most people
left at this point, but I lingered around longer letting them clear out. I
didn’t feel like walking back into town with those hordes of people.
I left as the sky quickly grew darker and most of the walk
back to the hostel was in the dark, which I found a pleasant change of pace.
People say the ‘end of the world’ like it’s a bad thing, but really, it’s quite
pleasant—despite the crowds. =)
1 comment:
Can't believe you went to the end of the world without me!!! 😜
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