Day 30. Back to Santiago

Many years ago, when men and women were depicting their world in elaborate drawings on cave walls, there was a cloud formation which collected moisture from the great waters which we now call the Bay of Biscay. These clouds, when full, would return the waters to the Cantabrian mountainsides, creating a green paradise of forests, ferns and flowers. More recently, as men and women began walking across a path to the south of the mountains, some of these clouds took the waters and cool winds associated with the rain and poured it out upon these pilgrims.

The clouds at first did not know where these pilgrims were going, but wanted only to cool them in the hot summers and provide water for the streams from which they drank and bathed. Yet after more time, the clouds became curious as to where these people were traveling and decided to follow them. Thus, they learned that these intrepid souls were traveling to a place called Santiago de Compostela. The clouds so fell in love with Santiago that they did not leave and remain there to this day, delivering rain as is their custom.

And today, the villages around Santiago de Compostela hold festivals during which they chant incantations and send up booming fireworks in an attempt to break apart these clouds which bring this never-ending rain. The clouds are amused by this, thinking these people are celebrating their presence.

In yesterday’s post, I talked about the distractions we create for ourselves. Any of you who know me well will know one of my favorite distractions is the pipe organ. Last night I took the bus into Santiago to listen to David Briggs play the organ at the Cathedral. After blowing out the cobwebs with an arrangement of William Walton’s Spitfire, he played a delicate version of Claire de Lune which was my favorite piece of the evening. It was a great evening, although a few pieces wandered a bit too long before resolution. I closed my eyes and, accompanied by the brash arrangements only a pipe organ can produce, recalled memories of my Norte/Primitivo passage. Other impressions came to mind: the fall from grace of Adam and Eve, the immensity of time and space, the perilous life of a butterfly.

I took a pre-arranged taxi back to Pension Ribadiso, had a good sleep and put in an honest 15 miles today, stopping at the Casa Rural Piñeiro which now takes the top spot (sorry Sean and Mynhardt!) for best meal along the Camino. Set off a few kilometers from the Camino (thank goodness to get away from the last-100-km-crowd), this country lodge was a true surprise with a great kitchen focused on attention to local foods and wines. A fitting, if unexpected, grand finale to this Camino.

Today has been a great day, one of those days you get up and the world is a beautiful place and just gets better. The Camino has its ups and downs, both literally and mentally. So I take the good vibrations of today with a measure of caution. The elation experienced last year upon entering Santiago will not be repeated, nor is it expected. I look forward to a quiet day, one of preparation for the journey home. And I hope that the local villagers have worked their magic on the clouds.