November 22. Fisterra to Santiago.

With the pilgrimage walk over, we are slowly making our way home. Today we spent the morning in Fisterra, losing each other (no phone on me), looking for each other, eating churros and picking up beach glass on the beach…because where else would it b? Then a 3 hour bus ride to Santiago (only 100 km but lots of stops) over winding roads along the coast. We spent the rest of the day wandering Santiago.

Apparently only carnosaurs may eat in this restaurant. No vegetarians or vegans are allowed.

Yellow painted arrows on a giant rock arrow pointing the way to the Camino.

Our hostess loves her knick-knacks. The Christmas town covers two large tables.

This cabinet was hand-made by the grandfather in honour of a grand daughter who died as a child. It took him five years and was obviously a labor of love. Both of their “portraits” are hanging the house.

This pigeon is watching television through the window.

Peek-a-boo kitty.

A type of passion fruit flower.

Bit of a rocky climb down to this small beach.

This black kitty was not interested in Ken’s blandishments.

Going.

Going.

Gone.

From the bus window.

Ken thought they were very sweet.

For the first hour we kept crossing the Camino path we walked. Certainly a different perspective to be racing down the highway instead of strolling along noticing all the small things.

The garage where I petted the pretty kitty.

Why don’t we get a window seat?!?

A peregrina in the traffic circle…but no backpack and apparently no clothes on either.

Mussel traps.

And we didn’t hit any of them. Our bus driver was good and very very fast.

When we hit Santiago we took the bus back to the airport to pick up the car. Luckily I noticed someone getting off the bus in front of our car park, so we avoided having to actually going to the airport and catching a shuttle back to the car.

This barely visible Santiago de Compestela sign is yet another of the handful of iconic places where every pilgrim takes a photo. I wasn’t trying to take a picture of the sleeping guy!

And I wasn’t trying to take a picture of hopefully not sleeping Scott. I wanted the pilgrim statue at the airport.

A photo of Nicky whom we had met at O Cebreiro, letting us know that he made it to Santiago.

So it never fails. I have been carrying a pack of Lakeland Scouting badges with me in the hopes of meeting some Scouts. I had them with me all the time because I was wearing my pack all the time. Except today. Heavy sigh. I saw this troop approaching a few pilgrims but they were being ignored so I went over to talk to them. Turns out they were on a scavenger hunt and only needed one more thing to finish – a photo with a peregrina (but not a peregrino) – I was happy to oblige. And am still kicking myself for not having my pack and badges to give them.

Walking around town in the evening, checking out the restaurants I am definitely not going to eat at.

Just your random street knife sharpener guy.

Scott figures we can each bring home a leg if cured ham and still be under the limit for Canada customs. I worry about the pig who now only has one leg left. Scott felt he had to deliver the bad news to me about the fate of the pig. What?!?

Ken now searches every post he sees that have stickers on them, looking for Dave the Goblin. And here he is in the square by the Cathedral in Santiago.

The local Mexican restaurant, full of pilgrims, at least 35 of them, and so so loud. Ken and Scott had eaten here the last time we stayed in O Pedrouzo and the service was very fast. This time, not so much, as it was so crowded. And remember the signs of no bare feet in the restaurant? Some old pilgrim spent half an hour giving a much younger peregrine a bare foot massage… At the table. They were in an outer section but still… Yuck.

No photo of that but here’s two lads enjoying their beers.