Last day on the Camino Portuguese! Also the longest day yet, and yesterday I discovered that it is that time of the month for me. This will surely be the most challenging day yet, but I wasn’t nervous at all.
When I woke up, I told myself: by noon, if everything goes well, I’d be arriving in Santiago. Ever since I learned about the camino years ago, I had always wanted to walk it. Arriving in Santiago must feel so exciting, I thought, and I couldn’t believe that today is that day.
I woke up at 6 in the morning per usual and had my quick breakfast in the lounge. A lot of people were already awake; it seems that everyone was excited about getting to Santiago as I was. Did I tell you that the French woman was also staying in the same albergue? She set out earlier than I did and I wondered if I’d ever see her again, maybe in Santiago.
The day went by very quickly. It was mostly overcast, and I wondered if I’d actually experience my first rain in the camino today. Up until this point I haven’t taken out my raincoat even just for once, I haven’t experienced walking the camino with wet socks, which was a bit hard to believe considering how it had been pouring cats and dogs just a few days ago in Porto. Maybe today is the day.
At this point, I knew that there was no reason to hurry, especially that it was overcast anyway. If it had been scorching hot, it would have been a different story. I took my sweet time and stopped by a cafe for a quick toilet and cappuccino and Kit Kat break. It’s okay to take a break, I told myself. I will get to Santiago still.
When I exited the cafe, someone called out my name. At first, he didn’t look familiar. It took me a few seconds to realize that it was Andrés. He was walking with someone else, a guy I hadn’t seen before. “Hey! How are you doing?”
“Good, good,” I said. “Taking it slow!”
He nodded and continued walking.
I might be imagining, but this part of the Camino felt like a recap of the last few days. There were hills, a few animals, charming churches, flowers, friendly locals who greeted me with a “buen camino”, and quaint villages. Today had a bit of everything.
I was walking down the road when I greeted a group of two women and one man in their mid-60s with a “buen camino”. They greeted me back and asked me where I was from. Indonesia? They asked. Bingo!
“We’re from Singapore!” one of them said. They told me they had been walking from Porto for two weeks. The man suddenly burst into a rendition of the song Bengawan Solo with fluent Indonesian and he looked so proud as he was singing. I never thought I’d randomly come across the sounds of home randomly on the camino; it was a pleasant, much welcomed surprise. I walked ahead of them and said my goodbye, but I was hoping I’d see them again in Santiago.
Before I know it, the little roads became big ones, and the tiny village houses transformed into Mercadona and shops. I have entered the town of Santiago.
I swear, I must have sprinted from the entrance of town to the cathedral. I couldn’t wait to arrive in the cathedral, to take off my pack and just lay down for eternity…
And that’s exactly what I did when I got to the cathedral.
As I stepped into the square for the very first time, a strong feeling of relief washed over me. I was happy because I didn’t give up, which was what I worried about the most. Now, I’ve shown myself that I can do it.
The next thing I was feeling was: hunger. I need to eat, stat.
I left the square and was searching for the restaurant, and that’s when I spotted someone I recognized: Andrés! He was sitting outside a restaurant at a table. I went up to him and asked if I could sit with him. He gladly agreed. I thought I’d be alone for lunch since Paula was walking later, so it was nice to have some company.
Andrés and I hadn’t received our compostella yet, so we decided to get it together after lunch. We had to sign up online, then they would send us a notification when it was our turn.
During lunch, I found out that Andrés had spent some time in Moscow before and had studied translation, and he also had spent some time traveling around Southeast Asia. I’m really thankful that this journey allowed me to meet interesting people. We chatted about our travels, how dragonfruits are the most disappointing fruit in the world, and of course as an unofficial ambassador of durians, I did a little bit of durian advocacy (at the end he still wasn’t convinced that durian is the best fruit in the world, but at least I tried).
After getting our compostellas, we went our separate ways. His hostel was a bit far, so he was planning to take a taxi back. His feet had blisters, so he needed to take care of them. I shared my number with him and mentioned that I’d be having dinner with Paula later, letting me know that he is welcome to join us if he wants.
I returned to the square because I had a few things to take care of: first, of course, the sketch! There was no way I’d leave Santiago without sketching the legendary sketch. I also wanted to write my journal here.
Many people stopped by when I was sketching the cathedral. There was a guy who had just finished walking Camino Frances. He also sketched along the way, and we showed each other our sketchbook. “We should stay in touch!” he said, but I told him that I don’t have Instagram. This is definitely one of the moments where I wish I did have Instagram.
There was also a German guy who kept complimenting my work and even volunteered to capture snapshots of me mid-sketch. He thought I was an art student when I told him that I live in Berlin. There was also a lady and her kid, who couldn’t stop watching me draw. And last but not least, a group of older women who told me that I have a gift. People are so, so nice, it truly warms my heart.
At lunch, Andrés threw me a question out of the blue: did I feel any magical sensation when I walked into the square? I told him I didn’t, because I really didn’t; I was mostly just relieved that I made it. However, something shifted now when I spent time sketching and writing in the square. I can’t quite label it as magical, but it’s definitely there. Having conversations with strangers, sketching under the open sky, embracing my true self—it stirred up a certain emotion within me indeed.
The camino’s magic kept going. Here’s another tale, and this one’s quite amusing.
Paula and I were figuring out dinner plans via WhatsApp when I suddenly remembered Andrés. He had asked for my number, but I hadn’t asked for his, so I didn’t know how to reach him. I really didn’t want to exclude him from our plans. So, I pondered: how can I get in touch with him? And then, a bright idea hit me: I could message him through PayPal. You see, the previous day, when we ate at the pulperia, I had sent him some money using PayPal.
So, I sent him just one Euro via Paypal along with a note about our dinner plans.
He responded super quickly via WhatsApp, saying that unfortunately, he wouldn’t be able to join us because his blisters were causing him a lot of pain. But then half an hour later, he sent me a picture of Paula across his bunk bed along with the Spiderman meme. At almost the same time, Paula sent me a picture of Andrés. They ended up in the same albergue after all!
Anywho, Andrés stayed behind, so it was just me and Paula. We met up at the square, in a spot where a traditional music group was playing. It was at that moment I realized: I can’t believe I’m here, getting to enjoy this wonderful experience, after completing a 124 km hike.
We caught up with Paula’s friends from Spain, whom she got to know during the camino. They were a bunch of older guys who were really funny (they even got Paula to do a funny TikTok dance with them on the camino). I wish I knew enough Spanish so I could understand their jokes, but unfortunately, I don’t! They live in Alicante, and we chatted about that place for a bit. Later on though Paula and I made the choice to have dinner on our own. After coming across one touristy restaurant after another, we stumbled upon a cozy, low-key taverna that serves traditional Galician food.
We talked a lot about life and the things we discovered on the camino over fresh seafood and wine. Most of our chat revolved around challenging ourselves, proving that we’re capable of achieving whatever we set our minds to. We stayed there until midnight when they were shutting down. I walked Paula to the main road so she could find a taxi, and then we gave each other goodbye hugs.
Until the end of the day, I didn’t meet anyone else I knew from the path—not the French woman, nor the British woman, or the Singaporeans, and many others I’ve said something more “buen camino” to. But it doesn’t make the experience any less meaningful.
And so that’s it, friends. My very first camino turned out to be quite different from what I had imagined, in a positive way. I thought I’d be struggling, spend a lot of time alone, and might even give up halfway. But guess what? I made it all the way to Santiago, formed connections with people, and even discovered a few things about myself along the journey.
I’m confident I’ve made the right choice when I imagine looking back on this when I’m older, thinking, “I’m so darn glad I did it.” I can already tell that 80-year-old me will look back at this trip fondly.
When I got to my hostel, Paula texted me: “Andrés,” she wrote, “he snores a lot!”
I’m going to miss waking up at 6 am, walking under the heat of the sun with a large backpack on my back, sketching along the way, and talking to people from all walks of life. Though somehow, I have a hunch that this is not going to be my last camino… we’ll see. ;)
