The Sacred Rocks At The End Of The World

After the beach, we started up the hill to go over to the still unseen lighthouse.  As we climbed, the camino led through a small village.  We stopped in at the leather maker’s shop.  His work was incredible, but nothing jumped out at Carol or I to buy.  

We enjoyed browsing the shop, or at least to the point where I cracked my head when departing out of the too low door.  I had ducked, but apparently the average height of man is higher than when the place was built.

Tromping past our last horrios, there was also some very neat public art on a wall.  (Side note: it is a little depressing how much graffiti there is Spain now.  Carol said it is much more than when she was last here in 2009.  Of course, an employment rate estimated at 70%+ for those under age 30 likely contributes to the problem.  What we saw in Finisterre is not graffiti, but even that small town had a lot.

After heading steadily up, we came to the final climb of the seven days of hiking.  It was an appropriately steep (why do anything the easy way), albeit short up.  It’s reminiscent of a short black diamond slope out west, but instead of skiing slowly down it, I hiked slowly up it.

Close to the top, we stopped to enjoy the cheese, quince, and bread.  I saw a big stone pile a little further up, and climbed that for great views.  Looking south, I hoped I could see clear to Portugal, but that was not the case.  On the other hand, we definitely want to visit Lisbon and other parts of the country some day.  It, like many other places, is on the list.

We went a bit higher up to the sign pointing to the famed Pedras Santas, and took the short side trail to it.  A famed rock, it rocks when you sit on it.  More importantly, it was used long ago to celebrate major events, as the sun disappeared in the west for the night.  It was important in Roman times, and was a major pagan site.