Touring the Cathedral

 

Yesterday, our last day of walking, was a pretty short one—just under 10 miles and it was a good thing. We were threatened with a forecast of “heavy rain,” plus I had inadvertently hurt my knee the day before and was in full ibuprofen overload and limp mode. Note the km marking above—we were so excited to have mileage in the single digits!

Our last lodging the night before was in a sweet little spot literally right on the Camino—we called it our roadhouse and it was very convenient. Plus it came with a very good natured woman who served us lots of good, hardy Spanish food for the trail ahead (Spanish “tortilla” which was a huge pan fried patty of shredded onion and sliced octopus, all held together with egg. It was surprisingly tasty, and very filling!)

We got our first glimpse of Santiago and the two spires of the Cathedral from afar and through the rain. You can just see them to the left and below the most distant twin rectangles on the horizon.

Then we stumbled into town and you already saw our triumphant arrival selfie in front of the Cathedral.

Today, we spent most of the morning and afternoon touring different aspects of the Cathedral. The sanctuary itself is very impressive, especially with the huge botafumeiro, that giant dangling incense urn suspended from a massive pulley system in the dome of the church. Unfortunately, they no longer swing the botafumeiro at the daily Pilgrims’ Mass, unless someone wants to pony up 450 Euros (sad but true.)

We toured the museum of the Cathedral, attended the hour long Pilgrims’s Mass, which I enjoyed immensely despite the fact it was entirely in Spanish (the organ music was lovely) and we went below the altar to view the inner sanctum where St. James’ remains (I assume sans head) reside in a large, ornate solid silver box—photos are not allowed, but I got a photo at the entrance to the crypt:

You know part of the story—James brought the words of Jesus and the promises of Christianity to the ‘end of the earth’ what is now known as the Iberian Peninsula. He then returned to Jerusalem, where King Agrippa I beheaded him. Wanting their beloved evangelistic teacher to have a proper burial, his remains were brought by ship to the port of Patron (which we walked through.) His remains were then transported by land to what was thought to be an appropriately beautiful place in the woods. Centuries later, in the Middle Ages, his grave was discovered. The King of Spain, at the time, declared a church would be built around the remains and that became the great Cathedral of Santiago de Compostela.

We are staying in the Hotel Parador de Santiago, a huge rather plain building that was built in 1499. The building was dedicated as a hospital for the peregrinos, all of whom traveled by foot for endless miles and were no doubt riddled with illness and probably encountered all sorts of trauma on the route. Needless to say, our digs are greatly improved over what must have been cold, drafty, dark, stinky wards.

Tomorrow, Bryn and I will travel to Finisterre—the true end of the Camino and the end of the earth, as it is known, on the stormy Atlantic Coast of Death.