As we embarked on our hike, the misty fog enveloped us, an white cloak that turned the world into a soft blur. We donned our rain ponchos, feeling the mist lightly kiss our faces as we traversed the three kilometers to Muxía. The trail guided us down towards the beach, where the rugged beauty of rocky outcrops and sandy shores greeted us with the soothing sound of rolling waves. After three weeks of journeying inland, the ocean was a welcome sight, its presence a reminder of where we started our journey. The air here was different—crisp, briny, and invigorating.
Arriving in Muxía, we sought refuge in a tiny, bustling café. The warmth inside was a stark contrast to the cool, misty morning outside. We squeezed into the cozy space, savoring a hearty breakfast. A few peregrinos were found in the cafe, and one spoke up asking for someone that spoke english. Psycho assisted her with translating the menu so she could order what she wanted. Did she travel the entire Camino asking for English speakers?
With renewed energy, we ventured into a nearby grocery store to pick up a few simple supplies for the road ahead. Bananas and blueberries, followed by a second coffee in Muxia before setting out for the remainder of the day.
Leaving Muxía behind, we began our ascent up towards the ubiquitous wind turbines that dominate so many of Spain’s ridgelines. The fog clung to the landscape, thick and persistent, while the mist, although light, combined with our exertions to leave us thoroughly damp. Each step upward was a step closer to the end of our hike. Excitement and sadness mixed with fatigue, relief, and joy. The turbines gradually emerged from the shroud of fog like silent blenders for our mixed emotions.
The descent from the ridge was a gentler affair, leading us through the calming embrace of eucalyptus forests. The scent of eucalyptus hung in the air, a refreshing balm that invigorated our senses. We paused at an even smaller café, a charming, rustic spot where we quenched our thirst with cool, hydrating drinks. By now, the midday sun had begun to pierce through the morning clouds, casting a warm glow on the world around us.
Our path meandered through a picturesque landscape of corn farmlands, ancient horreos (the traditional Galician granaries), and more eucalyptus forests. Along the way, we encountered a few friendly cats, their soft purring a delightful interlude in our journey. The rhythmic crunch of our footsteps on the path, the occasional chirp of birds, and the whispering wind through the trees created a symphony of nature.
By 2 PM, we reached the small, inviting town of As Lires. The Albergue here was our beacon of comfort, and we quickly settled into our familiar check-in routine. The sense of achievement and anticipation for the next day’s journey mingled with the welcoming atmosphere of the Albergue. Soon, we ventured out in search of sustenance, finding it in the form of burgers and sodas. The simple meal was a delicious treat to set up the afternoon siesta.
Returning to the Albergue, we allowed ourselves to relax, the strains of the day melting away. Evening brought with it a delightful dinner—fresh salad followed by a decadent cheesecake, accompanied by a glass of Vermouth. The moment was lightened by a humorous exchange between our waiter and Psycho, resulting in the playful new moniker "Tarta de Queso," given to him after pointed at himself and ordered cheesecake. Laughter filled the air, adding a touch of joy to the end of our serene day.
As we retired for the night, the prospect of our final hiking day loomed ahead. Today had been a gentle reminder of the beauty and simplicity of the life of a peregrino, each moment another brushstroke on the canvas of our journey. Tomorrow promised to be the culmination of our adventure, a final chapter in a story rich with memories and experiences.
