I got a certificate with the final number of kilometres. Officially, it reads 240. But according to my phone, I've walked 293.6 in the last ten days (of course, this includes the distance done without the backpack and in slippers, aka the "let's go have a cider" distance).

I enjoyed it so much that I already know I’ll walk it again sometime soon. A different route, maybe not even one that leads Santiago. But I’m keeping my brand-new pilgrim heart for life.

The Portuguese Camino showed me that I can walk the kilometres, carry the backpack, and sleep in hostels (more or less, my resilience depends heavily on the absence of bed bugs). So, when it comes to the physical experience, the Camino did exactly what it was supposed to do.

And the inner, spiritual, freaky, whatever-you-wanna-call-it experience? I still haven’t fully figured that one out. Today didn’t leave much time for it. Walking, getting the certificate, stressing about where I’d sleep, panicking about when I’d fly home, and then ciders again, plus way too much amazing Spanish food.

Tomorrow is another day. I have two more to spend in Santiago, flying home Monday night. And it’s supposed to rain, which might make it easier to find that inner privacy again.

If I manage to come up with some conclusion, I’ll share it with you, but rather in person. I'll see you soon anyway. The journey is over, and so are the letters. Thank you so much for reading, and maybe even for walking the pilgrimage with me in spirit.

I’d like to conclude this Camino diary with the thought that started it. I got the idea when Grandpa passed away. It was meant to be my goodbye. Pilgrims carry pebbles for those who can no longer make the pilgrimage. I also had two with me. Grandma picked them in the garden back home. They spent two months with me in Austria and then swung in my fanny pack for the entire journey. At the end of the Camino, pilgrims leave them at a cross somewhere near Santiago. I haven’t found the place yet, I guess I could do it tomorrow.

However. This evening, I attended a mass for pilgrims with my new German friend and my new Spanish friend. I didn’t really understand it, and I didn’t really believe it, but I translated it into my own agnostic language and I realised that my journey probably wasn’t about saying goodbye. It was about learning that Grandpa was still with me (with us). That’s what all the signs were telling me, that’s how I got this feeling of walking in the right direction. So in the end, I don’t want to leave the pebbles here. I'll bring them home and put them back in the garden. They'll be able to brag about seeing the ocean.

🖤

Kat