History Decades Project (nicosm43.caminode@blogger.com)

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Finnisterre

Considered by many during medieval times to be the end of the world, Finnisterre is the western-most point in Europe, making it the boundary of known civilization until the discovery of the Americas by Columbus in 1492. It marks the true end of the Camino, the pilgrims no longer having anywhere more to continue their journey.
When we were there the ocean was a frothy grey, and the shoreline shrouded in fog.

Muxia at the End of the World

After arriving in Santiago de Campostela, we took part in all the rituals for arriving pilgrims. We visited the plaza in front of the cathedral. We stood before the Portico of Glory (though we could not place our hands on the stone as they are currently restoring it). We embraced the statue of Santiago and prayed at his tomb.

Then we went to Muxia, where it is said that the Virgin Mary appeared to Santiago and encouraged him to continue his work in Galicia. Muxia is a remarkable place, where the bedrock of the Earth slopes down to the sea and disappears into it's depths. At the same time, the waves come in again and again, as does the fog that shrouded the place when we visited. This was a day I will never forget.

That's Nico reflecting on the Way, and the scale of the place does remind you how small we humans are in the grand scheme of things.

Beautiful Pics

Contemplating Death as a Spiritual Practice

Just beyond the plaza with the Baroque cathedral and the neo-classical palace and the medieval hospital for pilgrims built by Isabel and Ferdinand lies the little parish church of San Fructoso. Anywhere else it could the center of attention, but here it is not even on the map. On one side is a little plaza with this little plague mounted to the wall. In case you come at night, there is a street light hanging directly overhead.

Setting Out on our Last Morning, the Sun at Our Backs.

Someone Has a Sense of Humor

Since our first day on the Way, we have seem marker after marker telling us how many more kilometers remain till we arrive in Campostela. 314, 298...this morning the first market said 18.5. Then as we were in the last stretch--maybe five kilometers out, we came across the beauty: The Way is infinite. It never ends.

Ancient Church

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San Lazaro in Sarria

On the edge of the town of Sarria, there is still a little chapel for San Lazaro and the columns from the hostel for lepers and invalids that thrived here from 9th through the 18th century.

Spain's Gardens

There are many municipal gardens in Spain, this being one of them. They are often tucked behind churches, or built on terraces with scenic views of the surrounding area. Interestingly enough, they are not at all like the parks in America, with rolling grass and relatively untamed wilderness: take Rock Creek, for example. In Spain, the parks and gardens are more carefully managed, usually paved in aesthetic stones, and trees planted with precision. I thought it was an interesting difference…

The Pilgrim's Credential.

Everywhere we stop, we get our credentials stamped. This reminds of our journey but also acts as proof that we really have doing all this walking. At this point we have filled one whole side with stamps, and we still have 112 km to go.

Blisters and Pox Are Just Mementos of the Way.

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Walking as World-Making

Yesterday someone addressed us as "pilgrims," and it is true that we are walking this pilgrimage route. Today, as we walked through the fog with pilgrims from all over the world, I reflected on the ways in which participating in a tradition activates the ideas, values, and images associated with it. We are literally retracing the footsteps of millions of previous pilgrims--including Isabel and Ferdinand, Saint Francis of Assisi, and good number of other saints and popes. We are walking past scores of tiny churches built to mark the Way. We are discussing our journey with the other people we encounter. By making the trip and sharing stories about it, we help to make real the world of the Road of Santiago.

And this world has its consequences. At Foncebadón a few days back, a man from Madrid immediately asked why we were walking the Way. Almost before I could answer, he said with great passion, "I have walked the Road three times, and I do it because the Road gives me life."

A Jaunt Through The Clouds…

Today we left the medieval village where we spent the night and went deeper into Galicia, another region of Spain. The valley into which we descended was filled with a sea of clouds which rolled into the hollows between the forested shoulders of the mountains, leaving only the highest places visible. Shortly after beginning, we descended into the clouds as the road wound its way into the valley.

The suns rays illuminated the suspended water droplets with an ethereal glow, making the forests and churches all look like something that came off a baroque painters canvas or from a long-lost world.

Saint Roque as Babalú-Ayé

All along the Way to Campostela there are allusions to San Lázaro. In many towns, including Cacabelos where we are right now, there was a special hostel dedicated to San Lázaro located at the edge of town so pilgrims with the plague or leprosy would not have to mix with others. Imaged as a lame man on crutches with two dogs traveling with him, San Lázaro is a classic image of suffering, isolation,!devotion, and dynamism.

Another similar figure is San Roque. Son of French nobles, Roque became a mendicant. On pilgrimage to Rome, he came down with the plague. With open wounds he walked to Campostela, attended by a faithful dog that locked his sores clean and brought him food to eat. He is always represented as a pilgrim with sores on his legs and a dog at his side. He caught people's imagination in the Middle Ages, and there are churches for him all along the Way.

Yesterday I was already thinking a post about San Roque, who in Cuba is often linked to Babalú, the deity of infectious disease and healing. Today we walked into Cacabelos, passed the Plaza de San Lázaro, and visited the little chapel where this image of San Roque sits on the main altar.

When we went to the Plaza of San Lázaro for dinner, we saw an elderly homeless man picking through the dumpsters. As we left after dinner, he was still at it, so I offered him our leftovers--dinner for him and a small offering for us to show our gratitude for our well-being.

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"The Way over the mountains to the Bierzo. "

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"Nico leaving a stone at the famous Iron Cross, the highest point on the Camino. "

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