|Date:||Friday, Oct 7, 2016|
|Start:||Finisterre – Rest Day|
|Stop:||Hotel Mar de Fisterra, Finisterre 👍👍|
A single thumbs up or down is simply an indication of whether I would stay there again or not. It is not a recommendation. A double thumbs up or down indicates that the place was great and I highly recommend it or absolutely awful and stay away.
Woke to an overcast day and a little hungover. Nothing that a little breakfast at a picture window can’t fix. Today was going to be a slow, lazy day, lolling in cafes drinking coffee, exploring the town, buying a bus ticket to Santiago for tomorrow, picking up my Finisterre compostela, planning Madrid stay . . . And probably easier to do laundry here than in Madrid.
After breakfast, walked to the town center. Located the bus stop and figured out that bus tickets are sold at the souvenir store across the street. Bought ticket for the first bus back to Santiago for the following morning. The office that issued the compostella for the Camino Finisterre didn’t open until the afternoon. Headed out to the fish market. But got there too late. All the fish was sold and they were cleaning up.
Next to the fish market there was a weekend flea market. It was stall after stall of mostly clothes and I think they
were new rather than used. On the other side the of the flea market at one end of the the town was a small castle on a hill. This is the Castillo de San Carlos and it now houses a fishing museum. It’s tiny but very well done and interesting. The docent was clearly very passionate about this little museum and was very engaging. Initially, I was the only one and he recognized me as a pilgrim and insisted on stamping my credenciale. Normally, I don’t carry it with me and only had it because I was going to get my compostela. Once we had a crowd, he led us thru a very entertaining history of Finisterre’s fishing industry. However, I soon realized that there was no natural end to the talk and he would continue as long as there was an audience. I moved on.
The morning haze was starting to clear. The sculpture on the right was at the beginning of a street that ran along the water and was lined with cafes and restaurants. The inscription indicates that this is with love for all the Galicians scattered around the world. I stopped at a nearby cafe. I researched train schedules for Santiago to
Madrid, checked the route to take from the bus to the train station, made hotel reservations for Madrid and booked my return flight. How in God’s green earth did we travel before the Internet and smart phones? Steve from last night came strolling by and we chatted for a bit. He was going to go return to the lighthouse that afternoon and was returning to Santiago on the same bus as me, the next day. But he wasn’t quite ready to go home. He was going to visit a couple of other fishing villages along the coast; by bus or train, not walking. I wished him the best, told him I’d see him tomorrow morning and went to pick up my compostela. There were only about half a dozen people in line and it moved very fast.
I took a few more pictures, did laundry, had pizza for an early dinner and called it a night. The next day went like clockwork. Caught the bus. It made no stops (maybe because it was Saturday?) and got to Santiago pretty quickly. Caught my train to Madrid. At the station met a Belgian banker who had done the Camino Frances and was heading to Madrid to visit her daughter for a few days before heading home. We sat together and talked about our camino experiences. It made the train ride go so much faster.