Santiago

We made it to Santiago! We had to speed walk the final 12.5 miles from our last stop to try and arrive for the noontime pilgrim mass. This meant a meager breakfast of cold coffee, half an orange, a leftover crust of bread found in one of the dozens of plastic bags we seem to have accumulated, and a handful of peanuts. Oh how I miss my favorite breakfast from home: steel cut oats with peanut butter, bananas, strawberries, flax, wheat germ, coconut, walnuts, and lots of cinnamon!

We were making great time through a eucalyptus forest (smelled so nice) , even though I got boxed out by an aggressive tour-agrino grandmother with swishing khaki pants and numerous other fresh-legged 3-dayers. They just put their walking sticks in front of me to make me slowdown so they could pass! grrr.

Then a swarm of super friendly 15-year-old school boys on a field trip surrounded us and peppered is with rapid slangy Spanish. Definitely brought my recent Spanish confidence down a notch!

It was a riot to watch Scott's bobbing hat in front of me with 7 boys encircling him. It's that man-love stuff I was talking a out earlier :) Anyway, I was impressed with how polite, engaging, and respectful they were. None of them were snickering at our road-worn, dirty clothes for example.

I really had "to go" but i didn't want to alarm the boys with glimpses of my North American pale butt so we had to put on the jets to pull away. First time on the camino I was quite sweaty. Going to the bathroom discreetly on the trail has been a huge challenge (more on this in my summation remarks in a few days).

5 miles through the burbs and we have only minutes to spare. Scott sets a blistering pace. We catch a glimpse of the steeples down an alley. We lose 2 minutes at a crosswalk. Oh hey! It's Ramon, a Spanish pilgrim we met on the Meseta. Cheek kissing all around! Hola guapa and hasta luego! Trotting past a bagpiper and St. James street performer, we then emerge into the huge square and the over- the- top huge, garish, and ornate cathedral. No time to take it in though. The church bells are gonging 5 times, 6, 7... I feel like Cinderella. Run Up the stairs! No, not in this chapel. Back down. (Nothing is clearly marked in this country.) back past the street performers. Clearly they have witnessed this mad dash many times. Finally we push through a narrow entry being blocked by a panhandler who demands a bogus entry fee from everyone.

The organ plays from some high place near the flying buttresses. A nun sings in a warbly falsetto voice. Other smelly pilgrims shove over to make room for us. We drop our packs by some columns. Feels so good to sit down.

I close my eyes to try and focus on the monotone Spanish of the priest - hardships, thirst, pain, not only an outer, but inner journey, etc. His words and the dirge delivery make me so sleepy.

A dapper Spanish man in front of us is being frantically polite, trying to find seats for his 2 middle-aged women companions but trying not to let young pilgrim guys one-up him by offering their seats. Popcorn seat hopping goes on for about 6 minutes. I am admiring their chivalry but also astonished at the extended disruption this man is causing. I rub my eyes and eyebrows to shield what I perceive as ridiculousness and to stifle my annoyance. Really?!

The man has finally settled in next to Scott in the pew in front of me. After communion gets started, I nudge Scott, asking if we can leave. We had heard they only swing the botafumeiro (an 80kg incense burner lit to fumigate pilgrims in days of yore, although we all smell pretty ripe too) on holy days or if someone paid a lot of money. As we start to slip out, the Spanish dude rushes after us and tells us we must stay because they are about to lock the doors (to keep out regular tourists) and light the botafumeiro!

Six monks lower the incense burner on a rope. It is attached to a 2-pulley system way up on the ceiling. The priest pushes the botafumeiro one time then the monks all yank the rope at a precise moment in the arc, eventually swinging it hundreds of feet across the cathedral and nearly to the ceiling. So cool!

The morale of the story (and a strong theme for my camino) is that those who bug the heck out of you at first may actually be pretty awesome. That frenetically chivalrous Spanish dude made my day by making sure we witnessed the wielding of the largest incense burner in the world.

We are headed out early tomorrow morning on a 10 hour train to Barcelona for a few days then a plane ride on to Pisa to wander around northern Italy for a bit.

I will be able to write more on the train tomorrow. Ah, how we have enjoyed our spartan converted monastery room these last few nights, right in the heart of the city.