Now that I have new shoes, I feel like a new woman. My feet still hurt, but it’s not unbearable and it gets better everyday. I have discovered a list of vegetarian albergues and restaurants, so I hope the days of fries and mixed salad are behind me. (Alas that was not to be, but no one does the Camino for the culinary experience.)

A couple of days after surviving the worst of the Meseta is the challenge of the highest part of the camino. Cruz de Ferro. The place where you leave your stone and all your worries behind. I arrived at dawn and had a truly memorable experience.

The next day I chose to start walking with other people. Controversial, I know, but it was time. The mind hamster was now a turtle, the body was no longer complaining and the time for introspection was over.

Plus, I met some spectacular people who I wanted to share my experiences with. Mostly, we walked in silence anyway, so the culture wasn’t so different. What was different was that we got organised…pre-booked albergues (or increasingly, hotels), set times to meet in the morning and we took care of each other, emotionally, physically and spiritually.

One of the often heard conversations on the Camino is that every stage has its challenge. As I start to say things like “Only 150 k to go” I already miss the Camino. But then, the buses arrive. Busload after busload of “touragrinos” and school holiday groups descend on my inner tranquility. Tolerance be damned! My new found shanti is blown apart by their loud music, their loud conversations, their practice of running into a business to get a stamp and not buying anything. Their very presence irks me and my new challenge is not to be a bitch to total strangers.

But then, one rainy afternoon, about 6 weeks after I started in St Jean, we finally arrive in the outskirts of Santiago.

As we enter into the old city the rain stops and the festivities begin. Santiago is noisy, filled with music, revelry and tee shirts. We sit in the piazza, congratulate ourselves, have a cry, line up for our certificates and get very, very drunk. In fact, I don’t even make it to dinner.

As Santiago is not my final destination, I allow myself two days rest before starting walking again. There is a 70th birthday to celebrate and more champagne to be drunk.

Additionally, we are very privileged to see the Botafumeiro at the Pilgrim’s Mass.

It is sad to say goodbye to most of my Camino family but, as always, I will make an effort to keep the goodies in my life.

Buen Camino.