Day 16: Santiago de Compostela to Negreira
July 29, 2025 | 16.10 miles / 25.91 km
Municipal Albergue de Negreira €8
Albergue: Municipal Albergue de Negreira (€8)
Today marked the beginning of a new journey. The road to Finisterre. I was up early but left the albergue in a rush at 7:35 AM, catching a bus back to the Plaza del Obradoiro. At the stop, I met Olivia from North Carolina, who had just finished her Camino and was heading to Oviedo. Our conversation was a beautiful, fleeting Camino gift; we exchanged numbers before I got off the bus.
My first stop was Churreria La Quinta for a sugar-filled breakfast, where I ran into Leena and Katja from Finland, who are also walking to the coast. Over churros and chocolate, we shared stories, and before we knew it, time had flown by. We returned to the grand plaza for a few more photos, and I finally set out from Santiago just after 9:00 AM.
The transition was immediate. I moved quickly from the city’s cobblestones into the quiet, fragrant eucalyptus groves and rural lanes. I turned for one last look at the cathedral spires, a bittersweet farewell to the city behind me. The trail was surprisingly tranquil; after the crowds of the French Way, I found myself mostly alone, accompanied only by the sound of my own footsteps and the occasional cyclist.
The terrain shifted to more asphalt, but the beauty was undiminished. A highlight was the stop in Ponte Maciera, a tiny village centered around a stunning medieval bridge with mossy stone arches spanning the Río Tambre. Its ancient stones seemed to hold stories older than the Camino itself. I got a stamp, bought some olives, and spent a quiet moment absorbing the peace of the place.
A few kilometers later, Negreira came into view, a sight that brought a bittersweet memory of my friend Monika. My albergue was at the edge of town, so I walked through the main streets, picked up my “Camino dinner” at the supermarket, and made the final uphill trek.
Check-in was a breeze. I have a small room with just one other pilgrim. After a shower and laundry, I settled in the dining area to eat, journal, and share stories. I am tired but deeply grateful… for the quiet trail, the sunshine, and the profound meaning of continuing this walk. The journey to the end of the world has begun.
Thank you, God, for my Camino. In the name of Jesus.
🥾 Pilgrim Tip:
Negreira is a good-sized town with all necessary services. However, if your albergue is on the far side (like the municipal), buy your food before you make the final climb uphill.
Day 17: Negreira to Olveiroa
July 30, 2025 | 21.60 miles / 34.76 km
Albergue: Albergue de Olveiroa (€10)
Today’s stretch was a long, quiet, and deeply moving pilgrimage within a pilgrimage. I left Negreira at 4:42 AM, the darkness softened by a comfortable, cool breeze. For a solid hour, I was entirely alone on the trail, accompanied only by my thoughts and the ghosts of the past.
My mind was occupied with memories of walking this very trail with Monica. The shared laughter, the comfortable silences, the unique bond forged in this landscape. It was a powerful reminder that the Camino isn’t just a physical path, but a trail lined with the echoes of who we were and who we walked with before.
The terrain was gentle at first, but the final climb after A Gueima was a true test. I felt my heart working extra hard, pounding in my chest as I ascended. The panoramic views from the top were a perfect reward, and I vividly remembered Monika climbing that same mountain like a champion, a bittersweet memory that fueled my own steps.
Strangely, I felt no hunger all day and didn’t stop to eat, sustained instead by a different kind of fuel. After over 20 miles, the sight of Olveiroa was a profound relief. I’ve been here before. The stone-built paths, the quiet ambiance; everything looked the same, and yet everything felt different because I am different now.
Self-check-in at the albergue was a breeze. I claimed my bunk, and the first order of business was to free my feet from my boots, discovering a new blister on the same troublesome toe. I went for a short walk through the small village, the memories flooding back. I kept thinking about the people I shared this place with before, the invisible footprints we left here. Some places never really let you go, and Olveiroa will always be one of those places for me.
I found a bar with a tiny supermarket inside, bought my dinner, and returned to the albergue’s cozy dining area. After a shower (I skipped laundry today), I joined a couple of other pilgrims. I started to journal, but my eyes were too heavy. A cup of tea provided the necessary fix. Our host came by at 7:30 PM to collect payment, a simple end to a complex day. I finished my writing and was in bed by 9:00 PM, my body tired and my heart full of a quiet, resonant ache.
🥾 Pilgrim Tip:
Embrace the Memories: When walking a familiar path, the emotional terrain can be as challenging as the physical one. Let the memories come. Acknowledge the ghosts, honor the companions who walked with you before, and recognize how far you’ve come since.
Day 18: Olveiroa to Cee
July 31, 2025 | 15.10 miles / 24.3 km
Albergue: Albergue Tequerón (€15)
A sailor went to Cee, Cee, Cee
To see what he could see, see, see
But all that he could see, see, see
Was the bottom of the deep blue, sea, sea, sea.
There! I just had to get it out of my system. 😊
I was awake at 4:25 AM but lingered in bed, taking time to carefully tend to the blister on my left toe. With a self-brewed cup of coffee to go, I finally left the albergue at 6:10 AM. The day began with a gentle climb on the gravel trail out of Olveiroa, leading me through silent forests and over ancient bridges, each step feeling layered with history.
I passed the towering wind turbines of Dumbría. So massive up close and saw my old friend Vákner, still standing guard. This route was familiar, as I had walked it with Monika two years ago, but only until the great divide. There, our paths symbolically parted; where we had once gone right towards Muxía, I now went left, towards Cee. Every step from that point was new territory for me.
I stopped frequently, letting the beauty of the rolling hills sink in, taking picture after picture. Then, after a final, gentle climb from Hospital, I reached the high point of the day. And there it was-my reward, spread out in a shimmering sheet of blue on the horizon: the Atlantic Ocean. I stopped for a long while, just breathing it in, before beginning the steep, winding descent into Cee, the scent of salt water growing stronger with every step.
I stopped frequently, letting the beauty of the rolling hills sink in, taking picture after picture. Then, after a final, gentle climb from Hospital, I reached the high point of the day. And there it was-my reward, spread out in a shimmering sheet of blue on the horizon: the Atlantic Ocean. I stopped for a long while, just breathing it in, before beginning the steep, winding descent into Cee, the scent of salt water growing stronger with every step.
I arrived in Cee a little before noon. After a stop at the supermarket for food, I sought out the local church, sitting in the quiet pew to reflect. This entire Camino has been both humbling and empowering, but today felt especially significant, charged with the energy of the nearing end and the powerful presence of the sea.
My albergue was a welcome sight, and the hostess was wonderfully kind. After checking in and claiming my bed, I immediately swapped my boots for flip-flops and made for the beach. It was a windy day with a low tide. I walked along the sand, collecting beautiful shells as souvenirs from the ocean, then found a shaded bench in a park to eat my lunch while listening to The 7½ Deaths of Evelyn Hardcastle by Stuart Turton.
Back at the quiet albergue, I completed the final rituals: a shower, laundry, and now, this journal. My body is tired, but my spirit is soaring, anticipation building for the final walk to the end of the world tomorrow.
🥾 Pilgrim Tip:
The Divide: Pay close attention at the split after Olveiroa. The route to Cee and Finisterre goes left, while the path to Muxía goes right. This is a major decision point for pilgrims on this route.
Also: The downhill into Cee is steep and can be tough on the knees, especially after days of walking. Trekking poles are a huge help here to save your joints.
Day 19: Cee to Fisterre
August 1, 2025 | 14.48 miles / 23.3 km
Albergue: Albergue de Peregrinos de Fisterra (€10)
Today, I walked to the end of the world. Finis Terrae-the name given by the Romans who believed this was where the land dissolved into the vast, unknown Atlantic. It is one of the Camino’s most symbolic closures, and today, I reached it.
Margo and I were up with the sun and left together just after 6:00 AM. It was bittersweet to leave beautiful Cee behind, and I took a few last pictures on the way out. The morning was cool and bright. No walking in darkness today. In fact, we were so caught up singing “A sailor went to Cee, Cee, Cee…” that we missed the first turn, a lighthearted and fitting start to this final leg.
Back on the trail, it rose quickly through neighborhoods to the shore and into Corcubion. The climb that followed was steep but rewarding; from the top, the view of the water stretching to the horizon was breathtaking. We stopped at a café in A Amarela, but it was closed. Pushing on to Playa de Estorde, we found one that was open. Margo stayed for breakfast, but a newfound energy pulled me forward.
The path offered a steep descent after Sardineiro de Abaxo, and then, a gift: a pristine, empty beach, so beautiful it ached. I wanted to run down and touch the water immediately, but the moment called for a picture and a promise to myself to return someday.
I must have been flying, because I arrived in Fisterra a little after 9:30 AM. My first stops were practical: the tourism office for my Compostela and a café for a celebratory cup of tea. After checking into the albergue, I made the final, symbolic 3 km pilgrimage to the Faro Finisterre.
The wind was fierce, whipping around the lighthouse, making the moment feel surreal and powerful. I am here. Nineteen days after arriving in Oviedo. The journey washes over me. The places I’ve seen, the people I’ve met, the profound lessons I will carry forever. I am filled with an overwhelming sense of gratitude for my health and this incredible, unique experience.
I spent a long time on the rocks, reflecting. Later, I found a quieter, less windy spot on the west side to eat my lunch in peace.
Back in Fisterra, I met Margo for a final salad and a long talk. We hugged, took pictures, and said our goodbyes. This Camino family, forged in shared steps, is now a cherished memory.
I had planned to end my Camino here and bus back to Santiago. But as I sat on those rocks at the edge of the world, I felt a pull to continue. The journey isn’t ready to be over. So tomorrow, I walk to Muxía.
🥾 Pilgrim Tip:
Listen to Your Heart: The end of the Camino can bring unexpected emotions. If you feel the call to continue to Muxía (or anywhere else), listen to it. The true end of your journey is wherever you decide it is.
Day 20: Finisterre to Muxía
August 2, 2025 | 19.95 miles / 32.11 km
Albergue: Albergue de Muxía (€10)
I am not done walking!
That was the clear, certain thought that came to me yesterday while sitting on the rocks at the End of the World. My journey needed a different closure, so I decided to walk to Muxía. I need to walk there.
I left Fisterra at 5:20 AM. The town was still lit up like a Christmas tree, and I didn’t need my flashlight until well after San Martiño de Duio. This last day of walking was a gift, carrying me through dense forests, green meadows, golden cornfields, and along the dramatic, windswept coastline.
It’s funny. In 2023, I walked this very trail from Muxía to Fisterra. Yet today, walking the opposite direction, everything felt new and unfamiliar, as if the path was revealing itself to me for the first time.
The wind was a constant companion, growing stronger as the scenery grew more dramatic. I was walking the Costa da Morte-the “Coast of Death”. A place known for its treacherous waters and fierce storms. There’s a palpable sense of history here, in the remnants of shipwrecks and the stoic lighthouses like Cabo da Nave, which made me feel incredibly small against the backdrop of such raw, elemental power.
The trail provided its own sustenance: a peach tree offering a single, perfect fruit, and a fig tree laden with juicy figs. It felt like the land itself was blessing my final steps.
After eight hours of walking, I caught my first glimpse of Muxía, and it looked just as I remembered. The town is famous for the Santuario da Virxe da Barca, a sanctuary of faith and resilience. Legend says the Virgin Mary arrived here in a stone boat to encourage St. James. I arrived at my old albergue at 1:00 PM; perfect timing as the doors opened.
After the rituals of check-in and swapping boots for flip-flops, I secured my bus ticket to Santiago for tomorrow, a concrete step toward the world beyond the Camino. I wandered, reflecting on my journey and my last visit here with Monika.
The evening was spent in quiet camaraderie with Michael from the Netherlands, sharing stories over Earl Grey tea. I obtained my final pilgrimage certificate, the “Muxíana,” and walked to Praia Da Cruz to sit one last time with my thoughts.
I have crossed forests, climbed hills, walked along cliffs, and felt the weight of centuries of pilgrims behind me. What a blessing to be counted among them.
As the day ended, I went to the rooftop to watch the sunset. It was magical. While this physical stretch of the Camino has ended, something new is beginning. A journey of the soul that continues. I am profoundly grateful for the connections made and for my connection to God, who is greater than myself. I pray He renews my sense of purpose from this day forth, in the name of Jesus.
🥾 Pilgrim Tip:
The True End: Your Camino ends where you decide it does. For many, the symbolic triangle of Santiago, Fisterra, and Muxía is the complete journey. Listen to your intuition about where your final steps should be. Muxía’s sunset is a truly magical and fitting epilogue.
Leave a Comment