Aner took us to the backdoor way to the lighthouse that marks the official end of the camino, in Finisterre (“finish of the earth”). Oh, there are points further west along the Atlantic, such as in Portugal, England, and of course Ireland, but between the ancient Roman reverence for this spot, and the tradition of pilgrims to visit here, none are more famous.
First we went to what is normally a very rough beach between two hills that rise dramatically out of edge of the land. There are rocks with waves crashing dramatically. One section had fog sitting just above the water, giving off a beautiful, spooky vibe. The beach is beautiful. A dog played in the short surf. As a lone surfer tried to catch waves, we enjoyed ourselves with the uncharacteristically warm, sunny October day, walking down to the water and through the little river that ran from point to point in the sand.
Because of the normally rough undertow, this beach is rarely used for swimming. It is just not safe, although that day’s surf was pretty calm.
The sand is immaculate and the beach is pristine. It was sublime.
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