The End of the World
On the afternoon of the 19th, after one and a half hard days riding from Santiago we reached the westernmost point in Europe, Fisterre. Or, the end pf the worlsd, as it would have been to medieval pilgrims. White sand beaches greeted us and so did the friendly hospitalero at the Alberge. ‘We’ve been waiting for you!’ he said, and although he probably says that to everyone, it made us feel welcome. We headed straight to the beach where a swim in not not-cold turquoise waters was a great pleasure. We relaxed on th beach that afternoon and evening, an liked it so much we decided to stay two nights. The next mornig we cycled out to the cape which was littered with the remains of hundreds of pairs of half burnt shoes, despite the “no fires” signs. Apparently it is a tradicion to burn your boots there, but it can’t be too old because it seems like most early pilgrims should have had no way to get home except to walk, for which they would have needed or at the very least appreciated, their boots.
We spent yesterday afternoon on the beach too, and built some really cool sandcastles with bridges and tunnels and spiral towers.
Over the next two days we will Nike along the coast to the city of A Coruna.