This morning would be our last hotel room breakfast! We snarfed down bananas, yogurt, apple pastries, and nuts before leaving the cardboard cutout pilgrim behind. Because we were walking behind the hotel, a dark and spooky tree tunnel awaited us. We noticed a glow and Margo gave a little start, it was a few early halloween decorations in the middle of the woods, and given that it was a spooky spot, the effect worked.

Speaking of spooky, multiple days in a row we would be walking down a path or a rural road and a stink would suddenly overwhelm us. At first I thought it was poop from some kind of barnyard animal, but when investigating the side of the road we noticed these creepy red and black mottled fingers sticking up from the earth. Ewww!

We found out it was a fungus called octopus stinkhorn or devil’s fingers; both are accurate and disgusting. Wikipedia told me that in maturity, the fruiting bodies smell like rotten meat, which attracts flies and other insects to the gleba on the arms to then spread the spores. Double ewwww! Even more scary, it’s an invasive plant, much like the ubiquitous eucalyptus tree. Turns out this tree is not wanted. It was introduced in the late 19th century for its rapid growth and paper making fibers but it consumes an enormous amount of water and significantly reduces biodiversity. Paper making is also highly polluting to both rivers and the atmosphere. I guess we can’t have nice things anywhere. Or why the path to devil’s fingers are paved with good intentions. The whole idea of a countryside covered in invasives dismisses the beneficial qualities of the lovely eucalyptus scent that wafts up from the groves as we walk through them.

As we were already on the outskirts of Santiago, it didn’t take us too long to get into the city. However, the streets were nearly empty on this Monday morning. It was a Spanish holiday, and it was apparent people got a late start on holidays. What is known as Indigenous People’s Day in the States is known as the National Day of Spain over here, or Spanishness Day. October 12 is also an official holiday in much of Hispanic America. These holidays celebrate the historical and cultural ties among Hispanic American countries, ties between them and Spain, and their common Hispanic and pre-Hispanic indigenous American heritage. (And some celebrate that guy who is said to have “discovered” the Americas, much to the people who ALREADY lived there’s dismay.)

So it was quiet, until we started getting closer to the cathedral that is!

We didn’t want to arrive too fast, we had all day to savor this moment, so first we stopped at a cafe for a piece of the traditional Tarta de Santiago, a delicious almond cake.

Soon though, we turned a corner and were there.

We basked in the shared humanity of the moment. Pilgrims from all directions poured into the plaza, some with tears, some with exuberant smiles, no others, that I could see, with a sword. There were a number of tents set up in the plaza, and upon further exploration saw they were up in protest of the high cost of living in the country. While in a cafe a few days ago we had seen footage of an elderly woman being rolled out of her apartment by police, flanked by numbers of angry people. We weren’t sure what was going on, but later learned this 87 -year-old woman had been forced out of her apartment after ⁠an investment fund bought her house. She had become a symbol for renters struggling with Spain’s housing affordability crisis, and had died this week. The eviction from her longtime Madrid home sparked nationwide protests across Spain (like the one we were seeing in front of the cathedral) and unleashed a political crisis. Oh we Americans can feel her pain! Our costs of living have soared too. The average rent for Spain has almost doubled in the last 10 years and Spain’s government said that 26% of Spaniards who rent housing spend an average of 40% of their income on rent and utilities. It feels like the whole world is collapsing, and even though we were away from the constant political barrage of ads and such before the midterm elections, some of the issues are universal…namely greed.

From there we went to the pilgrim office where Margo got her completion certificate, and I placed the last few stones I had been carrying, one for me, and one for a friend.

Then it was time to be a tourist! We crowded into shops with the other thousand people looking for their camino souvenirs before we had to escape the press of bodies…the narrow streets and wandering visitors made for a claustrophobic setting. We wanted to sit down, so found ourselves in a little park just in time for a parade. We marveled at the simple cardboard puppet heads, and vowed to make some of our own one day.

Then to lunch were we had a delicious feast of grilled mushrooms, cheese, salad, and bread. I loved the placemat art.

Out absolute favorite souvenir from the whole trip though was found in the alley behind the cathedral. A man and his daughter were operating an old-fashioned photography cart where he would make a black and white photo portrait for a few euro. We couldn’t resist.

Our energy was waining by this point, so we headed to find our last hotel.

An evening stroll led me to a pastry shop where I purchased this delightful strawberry tart with my last euros.

Life is good!