October 29

Finisterre to Muxia.  29km

For once I did not set off in the dark today. The sky was light at 8.30 but still tinged with the morning glow:

I passed another of those cemeteries where they don’t bury the dead, they put them above ground level:I know it sounds strange but it seems so practical. 

I was walking to Muxia which is another ancient site. In Finisterre there is evidence of Celts, Romans and Phoenicians and it’s very name seems a fitting end to my adventure. But my guide I am using has the route to Muxia and certainly there are the usual Camino shell markers along the route between the two. After all these days it would be silly not to include it just for completeness. 

As the sun was rising I detoured off the official route to an empty bay. The sand was marked with the prints of many gulls. 

I had carried some stones all the way from England, one from Sandy’s grave and one for my father. Both of them would have loved this journey for different reasons so I thought they could accompany me this way. It was time now to throw the stones into the Atlantic at the end of my journey. 

It was a sad moment. 

The path climbed up through forest. More tree pictures!

Wonderful big trees:

Eucalyptus tree trunks:

There were no coffee shops on today’s walk. I had thought there might be one but all the villages were quiet:

It is not all forest. There are some green fields 

Then it was down to the sea and into Muxia past a lovely beach. Can you see four figures walking along it?

I was tired and weary. I have had had four longish days. So what did I do when I had showered and rested?  I went for a walk to the end of the promontory. This area is renowned for air-drying Conger Eels. I found the places where this is done but the racks were empty. 

There is a striking sculpture:Its tempting to have a go at climbing that crack. You could probably get inside it at half height. 

The church on the promontory:

The church is dedicated to Virxe de Barca (Virgin of the Boat). According to legend, the Virgin appeared to St. James in a stone ship when his courage failed him during missionary work in this part of Spain. 

You can sit here and gaze out at the Atlantic:

You can’t walk any further West. 

Location 43.1040, -9.2170