Completing Via de la Plata and Camino Sanabrés : To Santiago de Compostela

“Bright young sun, it looks like the morning's come

And it's all come so easy like the heavens are wishing me well

And those dawning eyes brought forth my own sunrise

Well it's been a long time since the beat of my heart was a friend

Oh well, It's been a long time since I felt I was breathing again."

Roo Panes – Home from Home

Final Day on the Via de la Plata and Camino Sanabrés 

As we set out this morning, we found ourselves caught between the swift-moving currents of time and the effort to stay present in the moment. Our walk along the Via Augusta, Via de la Plata, and Camino Sanabrés from Cádiz to Santiago de Compostela has been both challenging and transformative  - the perfect interlude between two chapters of our lives.

By the time we arrive in Santiago today, our pilgrimage will have spanned many paths and kilometres:

• 9 days along the Via Augusta, covering 176 km from Cádiz

• 25 stages on the Via de la Plata, walking 735 km north to Granja de Moreruela

• 14 days trekking the Camino Sanabrés, covering 370 km to Santiago de Compostela

And, before all this, 14 days sailing crossing the Atlantic Ocean aboard the Wind Surf.

In total, our walk across Spain has carried us 1,281 km from Cádiz to Santiago de Compostela, a distance that has tested our endurance, patience, and resolve.

Taken together, it has been a long, layered, and rewarding journey to begin this year. More than just a walk, it has felt like a bridge between moments of transition in our lives, and a chance to cultivate the inner peace we need for whatever comes next.

Pilgrims often ask themselves at the end of a Camino whether they received what they had hoped for. Our experience has been that you may not always get what you want, but you often get what you need. This year, that feels especially true. While we may not yet have answers for what lies ahead, or for the family challenges and medical concerns we must face, we feel renewed - with the energy and perspective to handle the decisions and struggles waiting for us.

This journey from Cádiz to Seville, onward to Granja, and finally to Santiago de Compostela has been unlike any other pilgrimage we’ve walked. It has been longer, harder, and far less supported than other routes we have taken. It has been filled with the unexpected, with difficulties we never anticipated, and it has even placed us face-to-face with theft and violence - rare experiences on the Camino, but reminders of the realities of the wider world. Yet it has also given us countless hours to talk as we walked, to reflect deeply on what truly matters in our lives, and to discover a resilience we didn’t know we had.

In the end, I am not sure this was the pilgrimage we had hoped for or imagined. But I do believe it was the journey we needed right now. For that, we are grateful as we step into this final day on the Via de la Plata and Camino Sanabrés. Tonight, we will stand outside the Cathedral in Santiago, closing one chapter of the journey while quietly preparing for the next.

For centuries, pilgrims have carried their hopes, burdens, and prayers along these ancient roads, all converging at the Cathedral in Santiago. To walk into that same city today is to step into a river of history, where countless footsteps before ours have echoed across the cobblestones. Whatever personal reasons brought us here and whatever challenges we faced en route, the destination remains the same.  The Cathedral in Santiago is a reminder that the Camino is never just about the path behind us, but also about the way it shapes the journey still to come.

Breakfast and Departing Bandeira

We woke at 6 AM, surprised to find that the bar downstairs was already open and serving breakfast. Stepping inside, we enjoyed a simple but filling meal of tostada with marmalade and steaming café con leche. It was inexpensive, generous, and exactly the energy we needed at the outset of what promised to be a long day.

Today’s stage is 34 km, not absurdly long, but certainly a solid distance for our final walk into Santiago de Compostela. After finishing our meal, we gathered our belongings, left the keys on the counter, and stepped out onto the Camino once more. 

Setting out in the morning, we found ourselves walking along the main street of town, which also doubled as the national highway. It was busy and noisy, a road that seemed to carry a constant stream of traffic without pause. On the edge of town, we gratefully turned onto a quieter country lane, following it through wide stretches of agricultural fields and past small clusters of whitewashed homes that formed traditional farming communities.

An hour into the day, after passing farmyards and rows of vineyards, the Camino led us into a forest. Much of this stretch wound along the sides of paved back-country roads. While it was an easy walk underfoot, being on either pavement or gravel, it was not the most inspiring part of the journey. The track eventually carried us beneath vine-covered trees, leading us onward toward the small village of Dornelas.

Dornalas to Castro

After just over an hour of hiking, about five kilometres from Bandeira, we arrived in Dornelas. Here, the Camino passed the Igrexa San Martiño de Dornelas and the village albergue. From this point, it is roughly 28 kilometres to Santiago, which makes Dornelas a popular place for many pilgrims to spend their final night on the trail.

Climbing out of the village, we followed a quiet paved road that soon wove through a local forest. The trees leaned gracefully over the lane, creating a natural tunnel. It was easy to imagine how magical this stretch would look at sunrise or shrouded in morning fog. At one point, the Camino left the pavement and turned onto a dirt track, where we came across a tree covered in photos, ribbons, and handwritten notes.  It seemed to be a small, improvised pilgrim shrine with a makeshift bench set nearby.

Leaving the forest, the route passed a long, low concrete farm building and a sawmill in the hamlet of A Carballeira. Here, someone had even set up a vending-machine-style snack stop for pilgrims.  A thoughtful little gesture along the way. From there, the trail descended once more, following another paved roadway.

Along this stretch, we passed a small stone ermita set in the middle of a roundabout before catching our first sweeping views over the Ulla River Valley. Entering the village of Castro, the edge of town offered a striking sight - the massive viaduct and train bridge stretching high across the valley below.

Descent into Ponte Ulla

Continuing along the paved roadway, we began to notice signs warning of a 10% downhill grade. By 9 a.m., with 14–16 kilometres already behind us, we faced the steep descent into Ponte Ulla. The Camino switchbacked sharply downhill on freshly laid black tarmac. At times, the high stone walls on either side made the road feel uncomfortably narrow, and we wondered what would happen if a car or truck came barreling down behind us.

The landscape around us was lush, green, and mossy, beautiful in its own way, but the steep grade was punishing on our legs and knees. Soon, the town of Ponte Ulla came into view, along with the historic stone bridge whose arches carried the Camino into the village. As we crossed the bridge, two familiar American pilgrims caught up to us, practically jogging in their hunger after failing to find breakfast earlier that morning.

The stone bridge led us straight into the heart of Ponte Ulla, a beautiful little community that was, unfortunately, in the midst of heavy construction during our visit.

Both bars at the edge of town were closed, but thankfully, we discovered a rest stop filled with 24-hour vending machines. Grateful for the chance to take off our packs and sip a cold bottle of Aquarius, we paused here for a short break by the two Americans.  

As we continued walking, the arrows and a mural initially suggested we should follow the road. We inadvertently strayed off the Camino, passing under a bridge adorned with a huge mural and skirting a grocery store. It didn’t take long to realize our mistake: everyone’s GPX tracks showed the route climbing a long staircase up the side of the mural-covered bridge, which served as an overpass for the N-525. Noticing our error, we backtracked and ventured up the staircase to reach the top of the bridge.

At the top, the two Americans practically raced past us, eager to reach the albergue, somewhat cheesily named O Cruceiro, or “The Cross,” a typical name for establishments in the last 100 kilometres of the Camino Francés. Though it looked like a nice, new facility, it was unmistakably a truck stop, positioned only about twenty feet from the roaring highway. The Americans waved goodbye as they practically ran toward the bar out front, talking excitedly about getting a large early dinner of steak and potatoes, even though it was barely 10 AM.  

Each walks their own Camino, and so we said our goodbyes, continuing on. 

The trail continued alongside the busy highway until concrete barriers provided some safety. Soon, the arrow-laden route turned down a quiet drive and passed under a set of railway tracks through a pedestrian tunnel.

From there, we climbed steeply through a forest plantation before reaching a small neighbourhood, continuing our ascent into another wooded stretch. Eventually, the trail led us into the tiny community of Outerio.

O Outeiro to Lestedo to Deseiro

Outerio welcomed us with its quiet Jacobean charm. The chapel hinted at history, reportedly sheltering an image of Santiago Matamoros, a reminder of centuries of pilgrims who had passed this way. The municipal albergue, capable of hosting more than 30 travellers, looked comfortable, though its lack of evening meal options meant we would continue without lingering. Here, for the first time, we spotted the Camino mascot peeking out along the trail - a small, cheerful reminder that we were nearing the journey’s end.

We set off along a narrow, paved country track, the morning air crisp and still. Along the way, a tempting detour appeared toward the Pico Sacros, the Sacred Peak, crowned by a tiny church clinging to a rocky outcrop. For a moment, we wondered if the Camino would send us scrambling upward. Relief washed over us when the trail held steady, guiding us along the lower path toward Santiago.

Our steps carried us along the edges of open fields, under the shade of forests, until the trail merged with a quiet road leading into Lestedo. The town, anchored by the Santuario de Nosa Señora de Lourdes, offered a serene pause in the rhythm of our walk. Beyond Lestedo, we threaded along village roads through Rubial, ducked beneath a railway line via a pedestrian tunnel, and crossed the Río Saramo by a modest bridge into Deseiro de Abajo.

By now, nearly 25 km of the day’s journey lay behind us, and the cathedral in Santiago de Compostela was just over 10 km away. Every step felt lighter, charged with anticipation and the quiet satisfaction of the trail we had traversed.

Roadways, Highways, and Pilgrim Stops

In the crossroads community of Deseiro, the Camino wove its way uphill for several kilometres, threading through neighbourhoods, down narrow streets, and between houses, until we reached the town of A Susana, where we crossed the ever-present N-525 highway. Navigating through the town, we stumbled upon an unexpected gem: a pilgrim’s rest stop, complete with four large picnic tables and generous shade. Grateful for the respite, we shed our backpacks and shoes, sinking into the quiet comfort for a good half-hour.

At one point, we looked up and were startled to see a line of pilgrims marching along the side of the roaring N-525 highway. The sight was jarring - how could anyone risk such a dangerous shortcut? A few minutes later, someone called out from the highway, urging us to join them, noting it was “shorter this way.” It was clear these pilgrims had abandoned the undulating, winding trail for a direct but perilous route.

We shook our heads, called back a polite “Buen Camino,” and remained on the official path. The lesson was clear: no shortcut, however tempting, was worth risking safety. Until that point, these were the only fellow pilgrims we had seen since Ponte Ulla, making their bold highway march stand out all the more.

Final Approach to Santiago

After our restful pause at the pilgrim stop, we picked ourselves up and continued along the Camino, passing through a pedestrian tunnel beneath the highway before climbing once again. The paved roads carried us through agricultural fields, reminding us that even only five or six kilometres from Santiago, the landscape retained its rural charm.

Crossing a railway line, we crested a hill and entered the quiet neighbourhood of Aldrei. From here, panoramic views unfolded, and the hillsides around us were dotted with communities.  In the distance, the Cathedral’s spires rose above the rooftops, and behind them, the mountains of Galicia were crowned with communication towers.

The trail wound through calm neighbourhoods, offering fleeting glimpses of our destination as we threaded through the rolling landscape and suburbs of Santiago.

Descending toward a small riverside church, the Ermita de Santa Lucía, we finally saw our first pilgrim of the day - an older gentleman seated outside, savouring a ripe peach while resting in the shade of the small chapel. He nodded in acknowledgment as we passed, and soon after, we crossed a trickling stream. Still climbing gently, we entered Pineiro, where a crossroads sign confirmed we were now only four kilometres from Santiago. Near the trail, a welcoming sight caught our eyes: the Cafe-Bar Los Cruces. Exhausted, we stepped inside and were greeted by many familiar faces from our long walk from Seville.  Here, pilgrims who, like us, looked both fatigued and elated. Sitting on the patio, we refreshed ourselves with a couple of cans of Aquarius, savoured the moment, and then set off once more, the final four kilometres beckoning.

Back on the Camino, the trail took us onto a secluded dirt path through a quiet forest. Despite being so close, it didn’t yet feel like we were entering a busy city. We passed under a highway, through a community park, and over railway tracks, catching sight of the glass wave of the Cidade da Cultura de Galicia perched on a hillside - a familiar landmark from previous pilgrimages.

Navigating city streets marked with a flurry of yellow arrows, Camino tile markers, and brass shells embedded in the pavement, we threaded our way along the cobbled Rua de Sar. At the top of the street, the cathedral spires stood clearer than ever, yet as we descended, the city’s architecture obscured our view once again. Crossing an overgrown river on a small Romanesque bridge, we began the final climb into Santiago’s historic quarter, our hearts lifting with each step toward the journey’s culmination.

Santiago de Compostela and the Praza do Obradoiro

By the time we finally reached the city of Santiago de Compostela, it felt as though we had been climbing all day. Even as we entered the city itself, the route seemed determined to take us uphill, leading us along a street that rose steeply into the historic quarter. It was the only time on any Camino that we had to climb right to the very end, and somehow it felt entirely fitting. After so many long, challenging days on the Via de la Plata and Camino Sanabrés, even Santiago demanded one final effort. The hard pull up its cobbled streets was a striking contrast to our earlier arrivals in the historic centre on the Camino Francés or the Camino Portugués, which had both felt more like processions than ascents.

In its final kilometre, the Sanabrés guided us through the medieval Arco de Mazarelos, past the statue of Alfonso II, and up the narrow, twisting streets toward the Praza do Obradoiro. Here, at last, was the end point of so many journeys.  A great open square at the heart of Santiago’s old town, and the symbolic heart of the Way of St. James itself, where pilgrims meet, rejoice and conclude their journeys. 

The Praza was alive with emotion, as it has been for centuries. Hundreds of thousands of pilgrims have concluded their Camino here - embracing, laughing, crying, or simply standing in quiet exhaustion and joy. Around us, pilgrims from every route mingled with locals, businesspeople, and tourists. Groups arriving from the Camino Francés, Camino Portugués, Camino del Norte, and Camino Inglés hugged and celebrated, their collective energy radiating across the square. In contrast, a few scattered, sunburnt, thin, and weary figures stood apart, easily recognized as pilgrims of the Via de la Plata and Sanabrés. Their longer, more solitary path seemed written on their faces and in their quiet presence.

We joined them, standing before the grand façade of the Catedral de Santiago de Compostela. After so more than a month, the long journey along the Via Augusta, the Via de la Plata, and finally the Camino Sanabrés had come to an end.

Arrival in Santiago

This arrival felt different from any of our previous Caminos. It was perhaps the first time we had walked into Santiago without companions at our side, without anyone with whom to share the moment. The Camino Sanabrés had simply been too long, too varied, and too demanding to keep pace with others. Many of the pilgrims we had begun with had already reached Santiago, completed their pilgrimage, and returned home, while others were still days away and would arrive after we had already departed for Canada.

Standing in the Praza do Obradoiro, we were grateful that the journey was done, yet bone weary from walking more than 1,200 km. In the midst of the joyful crowds, we felt profoundly alone. And yet, we did not begrudge others their celebrations - in fact, their happiness was exactly what we needed in that moment. We borrowed from their joy, letting it carry us into our own quiet sense of completion.

By now it was late afternoon, and in quiet celebration we found a café just off the square. Sitting with two cold beers, we watched the flow of pilgrims arriving, chatting with a few who had come on the Camino Portugués. Their stories stirred memories of our own past Caminos, reminding us of evenings spent with fellow pilgrims on other trails, sharing laughter, meals, and simple companionship. It was a small but fitting way to mark the end of this long, solitary journey.

Evening in Santiago

By late afternoon, around 4 PM, we retraced our steps through the historic quarter and across Santiago to reach our accommodations. Two hours later, newly washed and dressed in clothes that were at least a little fresher than before, we set out once again in search of dinner.

As we wandered the streets, we crossed paths with a handful of familiar faces: the British pair who had almost quit, the taxi-bound German couple who judged all others, a few stumbling figures, and the small French woman we had seen earlier on the trail. Of them all, it was only the petite French pilgrim who came up to embrace us, offering her congratulations as we did to her. It was a small gesture, but one that meant a great deal in that moment.

Over dinner, we struck up a conversation with another pilgrim who, in her words, reminded us of lessons we had first learned almost a decade ago on the Camino Francés but had somehow let slip from memory: “Keep going, because it only gets harder as you get older… And don’t let the challenges of this journey take away the fact that you love being out in the world. Keep going!”

They were simple but wise words, and it felt right to be reminded of them here, at the close of such a long and difficult walk.

See you on the Way!