Galicia doesn’t feel like Spain. At least not the Spain I know. The Spain of sunshine, sangria, warm weather and orange trees. Galicia is cold and rainy and, I swear, the wind never stops blowing.

 

 

 

 

 

But Galicia offers a unique experience. The opportunity to witness (or participate if you like) the culmination of an ancient tradition. And some of the best seafood imaginable.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This is the city of Santiago de Compostela, the final stop on El Camino de Santiago, the way of St. James. The first pilgrims began the trek in the 10th century, with the crowds peaking in the Middle Ages when as many as 500,000 of the faithful followed the path each year. At its peak, it vied with Rome and Jerusalem as the most important pilgrimage. Today, it is the only one where all who reach the end have traveled the road, mostly on foot, a few on bicycles. There have been years where few made the effort. Not so now as more than 100,000 lined up for their certificates of passage last year.

Two recent travelers told me theirs was a 31 day trek beginning in the Pyrenees. Many don’t make the journey in one constant trek, some taking years by hiking the trail in small segments as their time allows. Most of those who do, do not escaped unscathed. Walking sticks become crutches, knees are wrapped tight, bruises, cuts, scrapes are the norm. Exhaustion is evident on every face. Some require the assistance of friends just to make those last steps. But the mood is one of triumph, elation, camaraderie of a shared experience, and sheer joy.

Many of the people in the plaza have already finished their journey, some arriving days ago. They fall into one another’s arms as they reconnect with people they met along the way, strangers on the trail, separated by stamina, age, injuries, whatever may have delayed the arrival. No longer strangers but a new kind of friend. A fellow pilgrim.

Maybe next year.