Chapter 40
Hola Peregrinos,
It’s 05.05 on Friday 1 May: ‘National Green Jumper Day’.M
Y some tribute to my son Jake who 10 years ago to the day underwent a 10 hour operation to stop a bleeding on his brain.
2 years later he had a second operation.
It did the trick.
He is happily married now and works as a nickers geologist.
I walked with Jake to Santiago in 2017 to celebrate his recovery.
We got a miracle.
Sadly, not everyone does.
My Green jumper was imaginary today.
I don’t carry one on my 1000 km journey.B
It my gratitude is not virtual.
It is vivid.
“It is well with my soul “ ….. and sole!
Yesterday we finished ‘The Spiritual Variant’ of the Camino Portuguese, with a 90 minute boat journey to Padron, putting us within 24 km of Santiago de Compostella.
That boat journey was an amazing experience.
150 pilgrims on board, with the more intrepid, braving the weather forecast, to sit on the upper deck and enjoy the ride.
Our ‘Camiño Bubble’ burst for the ride.
The Aussie girls, who always try to avoid the sun, stayed downstairs in the main deck lounge whilst Marcos, Michael and I, took the plunge and went on the sun deck.
After 50 minutes that boat ride became an alcohol free party!
Captain ‘Santiago’ – Santiago means James, – sure knows how to treat his guests.
As we steamed down the ever narrowing river, he produced the most bizarre playlist I have ever heard, on the ship’s tannoy.
I texted my family:
“Sat on the boat deck, with music pumping out on its sounds system. The
last 3 songs in play order:
Titanic theme
Hallelujah
Ave Maria.”
Haha!
What a combo 🫢
Now it’s ‘My Way’ 😳
Titanic?????
On a boat?
Really! 😜
More on that ‘voyage of discovery’ later on.
As I type, early on Friday morning, I’m the only one awake in our shared room for 4.
In about 20 minutes time, the others will be awake and we will all ready ourselves for a 06.00 reconnoiter with Donna and Marcos, before the 6 of us walk into Santiago together.
I will finish this walk later this Friday morning.
Foot care and attention remain a number one priority for every pilgrim, even on the day that you finish on the trail.
No long distance pilgrim takes anything for granted.
“It ain’t over till the fat lady sings”.
We have 12 km to go!
Just 12!
T W E L V E!
That’s peanuts.
‘What could possibly go wrong?’
Probably Wordle!
Yesterday’s solution took 5 guesses!
I was livid when the answer was revealed!
CROCK!
I’ve been wearing flipping Crocs for the best part of the last 10 days in an attempt to manage my very sore feet!
You are kidding me!
Only the Camino.🙄
And on the subject of ‘bad’ news, my lovely university friend ‘Blessed Sarah’ discovered 1 typo in yesterday’s blog.
She corrects my typos.
I lost my bet with her:
Flash scores:
Derby 1 Pateley 0
I’m fuming part 2. 😜
One typo!
You are kidding me again!
That’s really a ‘net zero’ in my book.
I wrote ‘mu niece’ instead of ‘my niece’.
Such fine margins.
Wordle really has been a ‘crock of …..’ in recent weeks.
Back to Thursday first.
That day also started before 06.00.
A bonus for us in that hostel, was the free coffee machine and light breakfast options.
After 3 pre dawn coffees I was buzzing.
The ‘Albergue Camino Spiritual’ was excellent.
Clean, comfortable and with everything we needed.
We did find signing in tricky: a ‘Lord of the Rings’ moment, where a specially coded message, when inputted correctly, opened a secret door.
Except it didn’t!
On repeat
‘Speak friend, and enter.’ (LOTR)
I even tried ‘Melon’, elvish for ‘enter’.
This was the hostel I had shortcutted to victory on the night before.
I pipped Donna and Jenni by 100 metres, despite them having run to try and beat me
If was predicted to be our last big day of walking: the boat journey preceded by an 18 km walk and then a further 13 km walk to our overnight hostel on Thursday evening.
‘Summertime, and the living was easy’ 🎵 again!
First, an exit stamp from the hostel for our pilgrim passports, or ‘Credential’.
Mine is full now.
It provides visual proof that a pilgrim has walked at least 100 km of a Camino.
It is a nice keepsake, though I think the stamps on the Camino Frances, are mostly of a higher standard than the Camino Portuguese.
Only my opinion mind you.
Then we headed out for an hours worth of night hiking along side a river that we really couldn’t see.
We saw ‘Crystal Crayfish’ cradling across the middle of the trail.
Hopefully she was clear by dawn.
Otherwise she would make a tasty breakfast for a heron or become a totally ‘crushed-acean’ if a biker came along.
We walked around 8 km before we found our 2nd breakfast stop.
Tracks, minor roads, pretty houses and well cultivated gardens were the order of the day.
The wild flowers were back along with stacked vineyards.
The elevation increased and we returned to eucalyptus woods.
‘Eucalyptus for Men’ by Calvin Klein!
Such a great idea.
As we neared the coast again, we entered a small village where the plane trees had been pollarded.
New shoots heralded the onset of early summer.
Lisa and Marcos could not resist the donkey.
I wonder just how many adult pilgrims, resort to the same behaviour?
Then we were on the hinterland leading to the boat.
An estuarine mud flat, with dark greens and browns, producing an ethereal sight.
Beautiful!
Donna messed about on a rock.
I, of course, encouraged her!
Almost ‘Eleventy One’ between us, and we were still messing around like kids.
A watchtower was begging me to climb it.
But this peregrino’s arm strength was all at sea and besides the bottom rungs of the ladder were deliberately missing.
‘Spanish Fun-Spoilers!’
We arrived for our 11.30 sailing with a full hour to spare.
Peregrinos were suddenly: everywhere!
“All aboard who’s going aboard” with Captain Santiago.
Then that bizarre trip began.
Sedate enough as we passed massive mussels farms, anchored out on the river.
The mussel catchers were so friendly.
Waving as we came alongside.
Then the ship’s disco began.
Normal looking people, respectable and reserved, became disco diva’s.O
Be guy was bouncing away in his 70’s style raincoat.
‘Lost in music!’
Michael was a chief suspect in whipping up this bizarre spectacle.
Witnessing the normally reserved ‘League of Nations’, singing and lisping along to the English lyrics was funny.
We chatted to Lucy and Orla from Dorset and Sussex.
Such lovely girls.
Bright, ambitious: world changers.
I know so many young people who don’t just want a salary: they want a purpose too.
They had loved walking the Camino Portuguese and had developed so much confidence from their solo travels.
They succumbed to the frenzy going on behind them.
Michael was chief cheerleader and cajoler.
So funny.
I ate the free cake;
Actually 2 pieces.
And raised my eyebrows.
And then even I joined the madness.
My lack of rhythm concealed by the sway of the boat.
“Welcome to the house (boat) of fun!” 🎵
Orla smiled.
A cheeky smirk that said:
“What happened?”
“Did I really do this?”
Orla and Lucy were new friends.
C’Amigos.
I suspect a lifelong friendship may well have been forged in just their 2 weeks of walking the Camino.
We finally stopped and the seething throng of dancers disbanded to collect their back packs, from the tangled storage pit in the hold.
The ‘pied piper-less’ procession of peregrinos streamed off over the bridge, towards Padron.
We followed and began our last 10 km walk to our hostel.
The wildflowers on the bridge, growing between the stone cladding, were beautiful.
Such a delicate existence, clinging to the millimetre wide gaps between the stone sections.
More churches.
More flowers.
More marker stones: just 20+ km to Santiago.
More wonderful Peregrinos.
This time John and his lovely wife Flavia, from London, who we chatted to for ages.
They were walking Vigo to Santiago.
More lovely peregrinos.
This trail puts a smile on everyone’s face.
Great fun.
Super intelligent and interesting.
Flavia was from Brazil and John was from North Yorkshire: just up the road from where I live.
And that was that!
Another 32 km day.
I promised no more 30+ days, just 2 days ago.
I lied again!
‘Mea Culpa’ – again!
Tomorrow we will be in Santiago.
Despite all the fun and euphoria, my thoughts constantly drifted back to Hannah.
My lovely niece.
She would have loved this experience.
Her mum would to.
Lizzie’s time will return.
Sadly Hannah’s cannot.
Her life, full of opportunity, snuffed out by the selfish actions of another.
I’ve had incredible financial support.
I’d love a bit more though.
If you can, please click the link below.
Hannah’s story is outlined there too.
Our efforts are making a difference.
See the message from Lizzie, that I got last night:
Older children , living in a care home, will receive a free book in Hannah’s name, funded by the sponsors of my walk.
Amazing!
So nice to spread some joy to those for whom life can be tough and for whom love can be a rarity.
I hope you really feel the joy in your giving?
You made a difference.
Lizzie also wrote to me about ’’home’.
I’m going home in 2 days time.
I can’t wait!
“Today Martin reached Santiago, having walked more than a thousand kilometres to get there.
A thousand kilometres of harsh cobbled streets, soft white sand and gentle boardwalks. Of early starts, tired legs and sore feet, changing weather, chance encounters that became new friendships, quiet thoughts, deep conversations, and the steady discipline of simply putting one foot in front of the other. It is an extraordinary achievement, and I am enormously proud of him.
For many, the Camino ends in the great cathedral city — with photographs, embraces, and the celebration of arriving where you set out to go. But of course, that is only one ending.
Because after Santiago comes another journey: the one home.
Back to his own front door. To familiar rooms, his own bed, his own kettle, and the people who know and love him best. Back to the ordinary comforts that feel anything but ordinary once you have gone without them for so long.
Watching him finish has made me think about home, and what it means.
Some roads take us to amazing destinations. Some lead us into adventure. Some carry us far from where we began. But the roads that matter most are the ones that bring us back.
This old house has done that for us time and again. It has welcomed home children, travellers, friends, dogs, muddy shoes, muddy dogs, tired bodies, and stories written elsewhere. It has held laughter through open windows, family around the long kitchen table, and the simple routines that quietly build a life.
Since Hannah died, home has felt both exactly the same and entirely changed. The walls still stand. The garden still grows. Light still falls through the trees. But one beloved presence is missing from its rooms.
Her absence is nowhere more obvious than in the place she was most loved.
Grief does that. It leaves the place untouched, but alters everything inside it.
And yet home is where we keep finding one another. Where we gather, remember, laugh, cry, eat, talk, and carry on. Where love, somehow, learns to live alongside loss.
So today, as Martin completes his Camino and contemplates the final stretch back to his own home, I think of all the journeys we make — the ones marked on maps, and the ones carried privately in the heart.
And I think this too: however far we travel, however much we achieve, there is something deeply human in wanting, at the end of it all, to go home.”
Such an emotive read again!
Thanks so much for another read.
Buen Camino
Martin x
Martin Moorman is a 61 year old retired Headteacher who lives with his wife Nicky, daughter and her family in North Yorkshire, UK.
Happily married for 36 years, Martin and Nicky have 3 grown up children, all happily married too. In his spare time Martin loves walking, photography, football, renovating cooking and talking rubbish to anyone who will listen!
Martin Moorman 