April 3 & 4: End of the Road (Santiago de Compostela)

We made it!

We got into Santiago de Compostela yesterday around 2:pm, at the start of a downpour, so we made a beeline for our hotel and checked in.

At around 12km, we had decided we would have a coffee at “the next one” later in the day. Inevitably, the “next one” was at 23km - in theory. A large, bearded man leapt out at us, waving a sign and gesticulating. “Coffee, coffee”, he said, pointing off the trail, up the hill, with no obvious café in view… We skipped this offer. So, we did the entire day (27km) without stopping. After checking-in, we went in search of beer. This ended up being beer, plus our “traditional” lunch at the Royal Tandoori. Carey recognized our waiter. Our waiter recognized Carey. We had a catch up and a tasty, tasty Indian meal.

Then, we did laundry in a nearby, if sketchy-looking, subterranean laundromat in a graffiti-strewn underpass.

Then, it was raining again.

Then, we made a supermarket run…

All of which meant that we didn’t actually get to the Cathedral until this morning (4th April).

Santiago in early April in the rain is relatively empty. Even so, it was standing room only for the noon Pilgrim Mass. This time around, the Cathedral “hit” me much more profoundly. I felt like it “clicked” somehow: the physicality of Faith, the ability to “perform” Faith there.

You descend into the crypt, beneath the altar. It is a narrow passageway, a heavy stone vault: dim, claustrophobic, hushed. The silver sarcophagus is surprisingly small, set apart, distant, glimmering in the half-light. You climb up, and up again, to the back of the altar, where it is gilded and bright. You touch the silver cape of the Saint. You look out, over his shoulder, to the nave, the faithful gathering for Mass in front/below you. It is more than a priest’s eye view. It is a moment of a saint’s eye view… Then, you pass down again, into the crowd. The marble steps are bowed from the footfall of literally millions of pilgrims over the centuries. Your own feet rub off a few more atoms.

It is such a physical journey of Faith: the tomb; the real remains (of an apostle, and also of a real human); returning to the light, elevation, golden, sacred; finally, returning to the ground, one of the faithful… It was so striking to me this time. We joined the Mass from the Nave this time, the full spectacle, face on. The burnished sliver altar glowed at the centre of the gilded sanctum, which is itself an allegory: burly angels shouldering the (golden) arc of Heaven; the Ark resting upon it; above the Ark, the sun, enclosed in a golden dome…

It wasn’t all was seriousness today. They swung the Botafumeria at the end of the service. We acquired our second squeaky Pilgrim duck (another “tradition”). We treated ourselves to Irish Coffee in the upholstered chairs at Café Casino.