This seems to be what happens.
1. You arrive in Santiago and flop in the Cathedral square for a while and contemplate the journey and/or destination.
2. You go to the pilgrim office and queue for ages to get your Compostela and certificate of completion. The queue this afternoon was about 40 minutes and I couldn't face it with 25 miles of constant up and down under my belt.
3. You swan around town with your pack for a while, looking like a pilgrim and impressing the tourists.
4. You find a shop, buy bread and cheese, and go to the albergue.
OR you do it all a bit wrong, like I did. I checked into a hotel first, had a shower and put my second set of clothes on, went to the pilgrim office (and was fully understood by 3 Irish pilgrims for the first time in weeks) but couldn't face the wait, so flopped in the square. Now I am enjoying a large beer and feeling really happy and actually quite proud of myself (not a common feeling for me) for achieving this. I have really pushed the old,body, particularly today.
The last 3 hours was really hard. I could see the main road going in a fairly logical and level direction to S de C. Well the signed pilgrim route seemed to take the longest possible curve, crossing and re-crossing the main road, and constantly either climbing steeply or descending. I took more than the recommended maximum dose of ibuprofen gel just to stop the stabbing pains in my knee!
I also noted that the signed Camino route doesn't always pass through the villages indicated, so if you are depending on that for sustenance, beware! I had to deviate near Susana (i could see the bar Rosaria?) To get an essential coffee and sit down. So it was o.k. But I was expecting the signed route to pass by bars after Ponte Ulla, and it didn't until I reached S de C.
Anyway, it has been a hard day but I am in the lap of luxury tonight in a hotel in Rua de Vilar. There is Wi-Fi so I can say more later if I want.
South America is really big and I have never been there. I am leaving the safety of my teaching job to explore 5 spanish-speaking countries and to walk in the footsteps of Charles Darwin on the Galapagos Islands. I am hoping that neither the perilous altitudes of Ecuador, the ravenous midges in the Peruvian rainforest or the crazy Bolivian bus drivers will kill me... I will doubtless meet other people on the edge of sanity who feel the need to wander away from safety. I hope we can be friends.
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