Finisterre: The Camino de Santiago pilgrim’s bonus round
FINISTERRE, Spain — After 115 kilometers of trekking along the Camino de Santiago—the route that pilgrims take to reach the Spanish city of Santiago de Compostela, in keeping with a tradition that began with the discovery of the relics of Saint James the Great in the early 9th century —a bus ride to Finisterre felt like a decadent indulgence, a VIP lounge on wheels for the footsore pilgrim. This journey to Finisterre, or Fisterra in Galician, wasn’t just a scenic pit stop; it was an encore, brimming with historical intrigue, natural beauty, and a delightful sprinkle of Portuguese charm.
Ponte Maceira: The small big paradise. Our first stop was this diminutive gem that punches above its weight in beauty and historical gravitas. Sitting by the banks of a serene river, a stately manor owned by a local businessman dominates the hillside, with its welcoming stone mill that in the old days probably ground more gossip than grain. The lush landscape and soothing sound of rolling water were like a balm for weary souls. Strolling around Ponte Maceira, it was easy to see why this spot has inspired poets and painters alike. The ancient stone bridge arching gracefully over the river seemed almost to whisper secrets of bygone days.
Muros. Known as the “Town of Water and Salt,” this historic fishing village boasts centuries of maritime tradition. Walking its narrow streets, you can almost hear the Portuguese whispering through the architecture. Muros is where the sea and land share a passionate, if sometimes stormy, love affair. Here, every cobblestone seems to have a tale to tell. The charming harbor, dotted with colorful boats, felt like a scene straight out of a seafaring saga. And the seafood? Neptune himself would approve of the fresh, succulent offerings.
Carnota. In Carnota, we encountered hórreos gigantes, giant stone granaries on concrete stilts that look like something straight out of a Tolkien novel. These stone giants were historically used to store crops donated like tithe to the church by the common folk. They are now protected as cultural treasures, but modern, smaller private hórreos are still in use by locals, albeit for storing bicycles and laundry instead of grains. These robust structures are like Galicia’s very own bouncers, guarding the region’s agricultural heritage with a stony gaze topped by a Catholic cross and Portuguese spires. Or maybe they’re just there to deter rogue squirrels or mischievous crows.
Ézaro. A 20-minute drive brought us to the dramatic Ézaro waterfall, where the Xallas River splits between a hydroelectric dam and a 40-meter cascading nosedive into the Atlantic. This natural wonder is as breathtaking as it is unexpected, a thunderous curtain of water juxtaposed against the serene landscapes we had seen so far. If Mother Nature had a theatrical flair, this would be her showstopper, a reminder of her ability to awe and inspire.
Finisterre. Finally, we arrived at Finisterre, historically considered the “end of the world.” This dramatic coastline, once thought to be the edge of Europe, is now a beacon for pilgrims who continue their journey from Santiago de Compostela (Saint James of the Starry Field).
The Faro de Finisterre (Finisterre Lighthouse) stands tall, guiding weary travelers to a place that feels like both an end and a new beginning. After a period of neglect, it was restored to its old glory through the efforts of José María Quintela Sánchez, transforming the lighthouse into a symbolic and popular landmark for the community. For pilgrims, it’s a chance to walk a few more kilometers, reflect, and perhaps ponder what lies beyond the horizon, both metaphorically and geographically.
At Finisterre, the sense of completion is palpable. Pilgrims gather at the lighthouse, some burning their worn-out shoes as a symbolic gesture of renewal, others taking a dip in the ocean. It might as well be the edge of heaven; as George Michael sang, “Tell me that my soul’s forgiven.” I did neither, so I guess divine clemency’s out of the equation.
Muxia. Our last stop is considered part of the Costa da Morte (Coast of Death), a name as dramatic as the coast itself. Here, a split monolith rises above the church (and in my head, I hear the iconic tune of Also sprach Zarathustra that opens 2001: A Space Odyssey). This sculpture by Alberto Bañuelos called A Ferida (The Wound) pays tribute to those lost at sea, a stark reminder of the sea’s deadly and capricious nature.
Nearby, the “Boot of Saint James,” a modest yet significant bronze boot with a shell motif, stands as a testament to the legend of Saint James miraculously defending Muxia from invading Moors. It’s a powerful symbol of the enduring spirit of the Camino, where every step tells a story. It invites pilgrims to pause and reflect on the legends that enrich their journey, a fitting finale to a path steeped in history and myth.
The bus excursion to Finisterre was more than just a scenic ride; it’s an extension of the Camino de Santiago, seamlessly blending history, culture and nature. The Camino Finisterre is the only Camino that begins in Santiago de Compostela, covering a distance of approximately 91km with a further two-day walk to Muxia. From the tranquil beauty of Ponte Maceira to the dramatic coastline of Finisterre and Muxia, each stop offers a unique glimpse into the rich tapestry of Galicia, woven with threads of Portuguese influence. For those who walk the Camino, this journey to the “end of the world” is not just an end but a new beginning—a reminder that every step taken is part of a larger, timeless pilgrimage.
And for those of us on the bus? Well, it’s a pretty good way to cheat a few extra kilometers while still claiming the glory.
