I faced the stage, under normal conditions, is the longest and hardest of the whole way. I was only a day before returning home and was a stone's throw from Finisterre, and also a stone's throw from Muxía, but not both. So I decided to try it out very early, reaching Muxía and then from there to Finisterre to see the sunset. It was crazy, after a month I figured walking would hold my legs along, and decided to face the sixty miles of the stage.
I left at six o'clock in the hostel, shining with piles of girls Valencia. At least it was not raining that day and although it took me locate one of the arrows, I could go forward until a bar that is at the fork to Muxía and Finisterre. There I told the waitress that a beam had fallen the day before the storm, leaving no phone and no electricity to several villages. Perhaps exaggerating, but Marian could be that the day before, when I convinced her to stay with them in Olveiroa, saved my life.
continued to Muxía, the road was beautiful, the air cool with both eucalyptus and my rhythm alternated between five to six minutes per mile. I do not care about the steep climbs or the cobblestones, I had fact-road legs. And a little before reaching Muxía could see the sea, at last, since I saw him a month ago on the other side of the peninsula, had crossed the whole to reach the other side.
Muxía is very nice, in fact I was angry not to have more time to being able to see better, but some day I will make a visit to these villages in this part of Galicia.
Muxía
The best was how well they treated me in the hall, I began my junior stamp and marked where he was Muxía on the map that comes in the back of my credential, "if I do not care" I asked the man. "Everyone stands up for what is theirs," I said with a smile, and then it exploded with a history of the importance of Muxía on the pilgrimage route.
the boat The Virgin appeared to the apostle here, and was canonized, with a five-pointed crown. Beside the shrine is a set of stones that are identified with the parts of the boat of the virgin, and each has related a series of healing powers. In fact, if I had gone to another big city, might not be the Virgin of Pilar's patron saint, and would be the virgin of the boat.
He taught me a lot old photos of people pilgrimage to Muxía, and other historical references. He said there was a time when many people made a pilgrimage to Muxía, but seeing the church that lost control from Santiago, tried to extinguish the road and called it a pagan path.
I gave my muxiana and a map to Finisterre, explaining well all things I would find along the way, especially a river that had to go through, advising me to make a detour of four miles more.
half an hour I was there, I went to one and a half, ate and I started the route path Fisterra. More forests, more miles I could go through almost flying until I got to the hard yards of the road. I'd already come across a group of pilgrims traveling in the opposite direction to mine (from Finisterre to Muxía) that I had been warned that he could not cross the river, especially after the storm the day before had grown up and came with a very current strong, but a South American girl told me she had done it, leaning with his stick and told me that the water reached her waist. I thought that if she had succeeded, I might to be taller than her. The crossing was a rectangular blocks of stone about eighteen inches high, reaching the river to overcome in about two feet or so. I placed the fanny pack with everything he had of value on top of the pack. I hung up the boots mismatch and the backpack. I dismounted and the pants rolled up.
Already the first stone was crooked, and it cost me to pass. The following getting worse, plunge the stick into the soil of the river until I felt stable and I slid all my strength to the next stone. I remember in particular three stones, plants, in which I had a fatal and thought about turning around, but idea of \u200b\u200bdoing four miles gave me encouragement to keep the river crossing.
The water was very close to the waist, and a couple of times I almost lost my balance, but eventually I succeeded. Shame to have gone alone and not have immortalized that moment.
The rest of the stage, but rainy, it was short, and even got to spend a couple of miles I had to go back. I could not see the sunset because the sky was cloudy, but I got my finisterrana and met Monica, hospitable hostel. I looked for a taxi to go to sleep and dine Corcubión the hostel and so see Marian and Marina, but it was impossible, were not at that time, so I finally ended up having dinner with Monica in a bar rations are close to the lodge. Tortilla, octopus and Padrón peppers, all delicious, but the best was undoubtedly the conversation.
So I do not regret anything to have come from Muxía Fisterra, because Monica told me the other side of the story. Finisterre is the historical view of the known world to the land where the Romans two thousand years ago saw suicide each day in the sun and shocked because maybe the next day did not appear. Could be effectively Muxía been a weekend pilgrimage route, but that did not matter, really Finisterre is not even the farthest point of the peninsula, so it is a strong tradition of centuries of history that purify those who travel there. It is a tradition rather than a path imposed by the church. In a way, one could say that the religious path is going to Muxía to see the virgin, and "pagan" is one that will purify Finisterre.
was a most enjoyable conversation, and she told me, before being hospitable, was also a pilgrim, and made years ago the French way, but for the French side. I said is also clearly marked that people are very friendly when he sees you put effort into learning the language (in fact the French that she knew to talk to the French pilgrims was that) and that is a bit more expensive than the party in Spain but really worth it deserves because it is precious, and that the shelters are a pretty pass. There, in the "end times", when he had reached the end of the road, without realizing it, Monica had brought me back to the beginning.
Next time, from Le Puy, or from Paris! Who knows, that Santiago Mayor Pilgrim guide my steps. Everything is true ...
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