Travel diary from the Camino - From Porto to Santiago del Compostela

 

Billund, 23 September 2023
Dear diary
On my way to the first day of school in Porto in my Camino class. Thoughts are flying, and soon I will be too.
I wonder who my new classmates will be, with whom I'll be spending the next fortnight walking?
Unknown terrain, unknown challenges and unknown people.
The ‘school bag’ is packed - I wonder if I have the right stuff. The protection should be top notch, plasters, compeed, disinfectant spray, the last and perhaps most important thing has just been bought in the airport shopping mecca. The indispensable skin protection - and no, it's not condoms, but high factor sun cream and aftersun. You can hope for a little sun, even though autumn is just around the corner.

I wonder if Poul and Lone will be in the same class as me - time will tell. In the same way that my two apps on my I-phone will hopefully also do so in the next 14 days and about 300 km under the open sky along the windy coasts of northern Portugal and the hopefully beautiful landscape of north-west Spain towards my final destination, Santiago de Compostela.
The butterflies in my stomach fly around merrily and make me realise that I'm a bit out of my normal comfort zone.
I wonder what my lessons will be? Or as the late Eddie Skoller sang: ‘What did you learn in school today, dear little boy of mine?’
Goodbye, and see you again in a safe environment, a safe home and my beloved Helle.

Note 1:
The starting point of Porto and Portugal was chosen as I, together with my wife Helle, my sister Birte and brother-in-law Niels, have had some unforgettable holidays and travelled around other parts of this country, which is very close to my heart (with the emphasis on the Douro Valley as my absolute
favourite destination).

Note 2:
The first lesson learnt on this trip is that it's not just DSB that doesn't run on time...! But whatever,
at least waiting is familiar territory for me. Ryan buses - as Ryan-air is known in slang back home - are also capable of delivering a little extra time on the journey, and I have plenty of time for the next 14 days.

 

A Guarda, 28.0G.2023. (Today's mileage total: 23,G5 - 28,117 steps)
Prejudice number 1 was broken today - sorry Jan and Rie. How could I have mistaken you for a retired teacher couple with socks in their sandals and Fjällräv on their backs. How could I mistake you for Poul and Lone?
But - as my wife Helle has taught me: ‘The energy goes, where the focus flows’. I was eager to fulfil my number one prejudice when I saw you. I might meet the retired teacher couple later on my trip - who knows.

And the day even started with you giving me a lifebuoy as a morning present before the day's hike began. A lifesaver that I really needed 6 hours later in A Guarda, when I met Sara (the German who loves to solve problems) again in the square near my hotel.
She asked: ‘Hast du meine Nummer gehabt bei SMS?’ In addition, I also met Sara in the lobby of the hotel this morning, where she asked if she could contact me on Facebook. I could tell her with a clear conscience that I'm not on social media. Then she simply asked if she could have my phone number, so she could send me a text message with her number so we could go out to dinner together later in the trip. It was then 6 hours later in the market square that this invitation came - and then I took up the lifeline that I had been given by you, Jan and Rie. ‘Das kan ich leider nicht, Ich muss mit zwei andere dänen heute abend essen’.
The answer was received with a simple addition: ‘Bis später dan’. Yes, we'll see if I avoid or muster the courage to accept an invitation later on my trip.

‘Goodbye my love - goodbye’ (Demis Roussos, 1973)

By flying boat to Spain

Those who know me really well know that I have fallen in love in almost the same way I fell in love with Helle when I was ‘seduced’ by her via transactional analysis in 1987 - love at first sight. In the same way, I fell in love with Portugal on our first trip over 15 years ago with Helle, my sister and brother-in-law, Birte and Niels.

This country has so much beauty that you almost want to call it a ‘beautiful virgin’. So untouched you stand, so beautiful and humble you always are. So much desire to see you again.... Once again, I have only been confirmed that you have so much to offer, and this time on foot, which made the experience even more intense and authentic.
Leaving you today was not easy after the best day of my trip yesterday, with the exception of a phone call at the end of the day. Goodbye my love, goodbye, we meet again.
 

BUT, if you're going to make your entrance into Spain, you might as well do it in style across the Minho River, which flows into the North Atlantic Ocean between Portugal and Spain.
The ferry is not currently sailing as there is not enough water in the river to make it possible for the ferry to sail. But there is for some small, fast and almost airborne (at least that's what it felt like) water taxis. What could have taken 20 minutes by ferry only took 5 minutes when the captain of the flying boat fired the throttle.

With wind-blown hair (oh no, I don't have any of that), but plenty of sea salt in our eyes and ears, we hit the riverbank in A Pasaxe in style, about 4 - 5 kilometres to A Guarda. And just around the corner, to the left of the riverbank along the coast and around a point, awaited the most spectacular view of the trip so far. A detour to A Guarda it was, but sometimes the detour is worth it, and the enjoyment of the view that much greater.
There are no words to describe this stretch of coastline, but the waves were several storeys high, the landscape raw and wild, with wild and grazing horses that you could safely get very close to - they weren't that wild after all. The digestion of this sight was huge and on this trip, all emotions were in play, both the visual but also the emotional.

It was on this trip that I had the energy to process and think about the sad message I received yesterday with a call from home. It was my chairman of our company, Knud the Great, calling. Knud is a big man, both in stature but also in spirit. Knud is a guard, and as he says: ‘Once a guard - always a guard’. Knud has been my chairman, a close friend and a strong father figure who supports, guides and is always with me on the road. And Knud is something we hold on to - we don't look back - and I look forward to the time we still have together and perform small miracles in Slagelse Boligselskab.
Don't let this damned disease take away your lust for life, because you are both big and strong.

I lost my own father far too early when he was only 54 to the same cursed disease, but he has always been in my heart, been my mentor and source of inspiration in my life, work life and my leisure life - and he is very much on this journey in my heart. He showed me the confidence that I could do much more than I thought I could - and that has followed me through life ever since.

Baiona, 30.0G.2023 (Today's total kilometres: 21.83 - 26,204 steps)
‘He is a Satanist’ she said. Asked: ‘Whaaat?’ ‘Elon is a Satanist’ she said again. ‘He is just a puppet, the
lowest of the lowest in the pyramid of Satanist´s’. It was powerful stuff. That's how my day ended yesterday, in a largely pleasant conversation with 2
middle-aged flight attendants from Vancouver over a cold glass of white wine with a view of the sun setting over the Atlantic.
Everything was peaceful and idyllic in our conversation at the edge of the swimming pool at Hotel Glasgow. I might have joked that one of them, Lisa, had recommended me to study a professor who was banned from all universities in Canada because of his opinions and controversial statements on X (formerly Twitter).

I think I had also heard the word conspiracy theory in her stream of words. I had perhaps smelled the fuse about where her sympathies and opinions lay, but was still completely unprepared for what an innocent conversation about what I, as a single man, got the trip and time to spend when I was not hiking. I answered innocently: ‘Reading and writing’. And the first question was completely harmless. ‘What are you writing’. The short answer: ‘A book - my
diary’. But the next question turned out to be less harmless: ‘What are you reading?’. And here came the trigger for the eruption of the volcano
eruption, where I could almost feel the tectonic plates beneath me shift and shake the earth and the sunbed with a minor earthquake. ‘A biography of Elon Musk’.

‘He is a Satanist’ she almost shouted and I could see that it was no joke. Still, I tried once and twice to see if there was a mitigating approach to that statement. First the immediate one: ‘Whaaat’ and the answer became even more obvious both in strength and body language: “Elon is a Satanist”. Then with the attempt at the conciliatory version - naive as I was: ‘He is interesting, maybe the most powerful and can maybe also be dangerous, concerning to his control of satellites etc.’.
And if it wasn't stuck on my light board, it was now: ‘He is just a puppet on a string, the lowest man in the pyramid of satanist´s who control this world’.

I stood up, looked into her sunglasses (the sun had set...) and said: ‘You have your way of seeing life, I have mine. Thanks for keeping me company and have a nice evening and a nice Camino’.

It made a hell of an impression. But then again, that was one of my goals for the trip: To explore and be curious about other people and their
perspective with life and the trip - without getting too close, because I had to look after myself.... Here I was challenged. Damn good thing I didn't go to
class with her.

And this morning I put on my sprint boots. The shortest stretch of the trip in sight, estimated at between 12 - 13 kilometres and just over 300
altitude metres. Goodbye Oia, goodbye you dangerous woman whom I don't need to meet again on my way.

Once I arrived in Baiona - in what for me was the fastest kilometre time of the trip (and incidentally 15 kilometres and not 12-13, as stated in the travel book), I came across a sight that made me open my eyes, wipe the sweat off my forehead and ask: ‘Excuse me, can I take a picture of you’. Four super beautiful young and incredibly well-dressed women posed for portraits and said: ‘Off course you can’. With the picture in the box I asked: ‘You look amazing, any special occasion today?’ ‘Yes, we are on our way to a wedding’ they said.

Now that made perfect sense, and then I thought in my quiet mind. How little we often make of ourselves on special occasions in Denmark. We might show up in a pair of jeans, a polo shirt, a pair of snickers and maybe a jacket for a wedding. There's style, pride, lots of colour, dresses, high heels, suits and penguins all over town - it must be a very big wedding they were going to. I have to say it was the most beautiful welcome committee I could wish for in Baiona.
Learning: If you don't ask, you don't get answers or beautiful pictures and memories to take home. And if you do ask, the worst thing that can happen is probably a no. I was lucky today. Whether it was luck, good legs or just sheer stubbornness that allowed me to complete today's stage in ‘record time’. I'll leave that up in the air. But one thing that I did realise today was:

Learning: Some say the fat ones can sweat and the skinny ones can moan. I realised that I must go by the term ‘skinny fat’. On today's climbs in 30-degree heat, I sweated like a whippet and moaned like a middle-aged man in bad shape with chronic bronchitis. And yes, I am middle-aged, but I'm not fat, nor do I suffer from bronchitis or run around with a whip in my hand. I'm just ‘skinny fat’ - the best or perhaps the worst of both worlds....

The last thing I learnt on this beautiful late, late summer day in Baiona was that there is a lot of space on the beaches, which are beautifully located right in the heart of the bay and town. Just 200 metres from my hotel. There is a lot of space. Right up until 16.00 and beyond. Then the beach was truly invaded by lots and lots of Spanish families with chairs, parasols, sun loungers, blankets, toys for the kids and everything else that belongs to a cosy afternoon/evening on the beach. ‘Vamos a la Playa’ (Righeira 1983) is what I say. And I went home.

PS: After an evening in Baiona, on a Saturday night, you can't help but get drunk! Drunk on life, drunk on a gem here in north-west Spain, and maybe a little drunk on good red wine from ‘my’ tapas bar close to my hotel.
Goodnight moon, goodnight star - see you again in the distance.

Vigo, 01.10.2023 (Total kilometres: 35.74 - 43,074 steps)
The king stage - chickens and mountain goats.
Everything, I tell you, EVERYTHING was lined up for today's royal stage on the Camino. If there was one thing that was certain, it was that I wouldn't have to compromise on
provisions and equipment. So what did I do? Doubled up on energy snack, energy gel and electrolyte sports drink. Doubled up on t-shirts and fruit - and I was ready.

The stage was estimated at just over 25 kilometres with an estimated 700 vertical metres on the route between 18 - 28 degrees Celsius. The family had already arrived the day before
the day before with a raised forefinger. Take it easy Arne, so I tried my best to memorise it in my brain and I can already
reveal now that it only lasted for about 800 metres and then I was already bored.

Part of the preparation was also to leave early, which meant leaving about 30 minutes earlier than normal, I left at 8.00 am. Then there was less baking sun to cook in on the hills/mountains ahead. I didn't regret it, because this is where I learnt the first lessons and positive surprises of the day.
Firstly, seeing the sun rise over the bay of Baiano was magical, but equally magical was the experience of leaving Baiano in tribute to the fans.
Baiano in celebration and fanfare. I'm 100% sure that all the chickens, who had also just got up, on their way out of town, sent me some cockcrowing and a fanfare at sunrise that I could only be happy about.

About 10 kilometres into the ride, my route description told me that we'd be climbing for a long time, so you can definitely feel it. But the good thing was that these were soft and long hills with a 7-8% gradient. Just enough to keep my pace high - or so I thought!
As I was almost lulled into a trance by the beautiful landscape, constant pace and really good legs on the 8th day of my
‘training camp’, then came the little “black” hills and hairpin bends with gradients of 16 - 20%. Then came the thought of the physical feeling of being skinny again ???? - sweat and groans in abundance.

And symbolically, what did I meet at the top of this mountain? 2 mountain goats, quietly, calmly and monotonously munching on trees and other goodies that were served to them. I took a picture of them and thought - I was a skilful mountain goat today with diamonds in my sticks.

Despite the hills and mountains, the legs were still pretty damn good. The view of the Bay of Vigo was less good. There was a thick fog or cloud cover over the entire bay. So the amazing sight that the travel book had told me to look forward to will have to wait for another time, if there is one.
On the way downhill to Vigo, I really stepped on the gas. So much so that when I passed a Dutch couple I spoke to at lunch yesterday - I declined an invitation for a cup of coffee.
I declined an invitation for a coffee. There was no stopping those legs, and as previously written - breaks are not my thing. I flew into Vigo.
A totally uninteresting trip through factory neighbourhoods, busy roads, traffic lights and traffic jams. Here we met a big city for the first time since Porto.

Past Celta Vigo's beautiful football stadium, which for a football nut like me brought a smile to my face and we also took pictures as we passed. I wondered if they were playing at home today/tonight, I thought. Would I be able to get a ticket? And no, they didn't, I realised later at my hotel - too bad. 25 kilometres passed now and the heat had hit 28 degrees here in the middle of the city, and it was time to put my hotel into google maps. All said and done, and only 2.5 kilometres left of today's royal stage, which was 27.5 kilometres in total. How hard could it be, I thought again?

And here pride and even obesity were on the line. Because after 300 metres, I was about to face the hardest, deadliest and most annoying climb of the day.
1.5 kilometres straight up into the sky in Vigo - or rather 1.5 kilometres in heat hell in Vigo. A constant 16-18% gradient almost made me boil over. Fortunately, and yes fortunately, my legs were strong enough to carry me to the top, where the last of my electrolyte sports drink was washed down.

Now there was only about 500 metres downhill before the finish line and the inner jubilation could break loose. And it did so in full force about 4 minutes later when I stood in the hotel lobby and emptied 2 coca-cola in no time - the depots needed to balance again as I was balancing on the brink of overheating today - Go Daw Vigo, here I am. You (Vigo) have plenty of hills, interesting and well-preserved old and beautiful architecture in abundance if you take the time to study you in the city centre, where I took a little extra afternoon walk just to walk the worst of the acid out of my legs after the day's exertions. In addition, I found a great lunch restaurant, Cantina Argentina, which served some heavenly emblanadas, which in turn were washed down with copious amounts of liquid, 2 large draft beers - damned I felt good.

Redondela, 02.10.2023. (Today's mileage total: 20,G6 - 25,265 steps)
‘Oops - I dit it again’...and again and again. (Britney Spears, 2000) As if I hadn't had enough and learnt from yesterday - apparently not. The whip came out again and ordered me to improve my fastest kilometre time on the shortest stage of the trip - measured in kilometres from hotel to pension, door to door. 14 kilometres sharp and it took me exactly 2 hours, the first 3 kilometres of which were constant but gentle climbs in Vigo. We're going higher, yes we're going even higher, all the way to the top together, the whip, my friend the GPX viewer and I together. And from here it was pretty much flat out the rest of the way with the most beautiful view of Vigo Bay, which I missed yesterday on my way into Vigo - lucky me ????

Way, way too early in relation to my check-in time, luck turned out, like so many other times before on the trip. The room in my little guesthouse was ready, as was the washing machine on the 4th floor with its roof terrace, where I could enjoy hot coffee and cool water. Now the odour that had been following me for the last few days had to be removed once and for all, so it didn't become a decidedly disgusting companion on the last 4 days of hiking.

With the machine well-fuelled, it's time for today's reflections and learnings.
But before that: Lucky me again....- made it to the washing machine 5 minutes before she stood there with her arms full and ready to go. And it wasn't just anyone standing there. It was German Sara again, who had left ‘home’ early in Vigo to secure - also much needed - washing time at the guesthouse. Once again, I sent a thank you to your good leg, and she'll have to wait an hour until it's her turn.

Today's learnings:

The story of suffering and

The Hamster Wheel

As the title suggests, there are many for whom this trip has a religious flavour - pilgrims on their way to the Catholic final destination in Santiago de Compostela. And I have to admit that this is not the case for me. But one thing I'm sure of is that everyone here has their own story of suffering and some discover it along the way. It's just a question of what brings on the suffering - mentally or
physical.

For some, it must simply be the heavy, heavy, heavy burden that they carry around on their back and in their rucksack. Some so heavy that I hope the mental burdens are not proportional to the physical ones. Here, the rucksacks are so large and the resulting gait so painful that it must almost be deliberate self-torture to then enjoy even more the salvation of seeing the Catholic cathedral in Santiago in the distance.
And then there are others whose story of suffering lies in whipping themselves constantly from day 1 and all 13 consecutive days of walking to then achieve their (read: my...) salvation by jumping off the hamster wheel and completing a test of both physical and mental manhood (excuse the expression in these
equality times....) and coming home in super shape and several kilos lighter and a whole lot wiser about yourself. And here it was again: ‘Accept who you are’.

And yes, I jumped out! Out of the hamster wheel, only to find a new one along the way. At home, Helle and I have a song that is horror song no. 1 and totally banned: ‘Livets gang’ (Pensionistvisen) (Grethe Sønck and Volmer Sørensen, Cirkusrevyen 1980). The lyrics and the song are for us the ultimate trap in life. The trap and the repetition of the day's dont, which you can't escape from and which you do nothing about yourself. And that gets burned into your body and soul. I jumped out and jumped on the Camino. Because now it was my turn to take action and not just get lost in the ‘banalities’ of everyday life and today's hamster wheel in Denmark. It was time to shake up my own mind. And what happened! Just 9 days into my trip, the hamster wheel has quietly found its way to me and my Camino. And here I realise that I and many others, I think, thrive on
predictability, fixed rhythms and daily routines. They basically provide a sense of security, which is one of the
the main ingredients of a good life. We simply become addicted to our own inner hamster wheel, just as I have become addicted on this trip:

Up at 7.00am

Breakfast at 7.30am Departure at 8.30am

Same pace and a little more every day

Greet the same fellow hikers/caminists every day, for example Karl, Berit, Christina, the Germans, the Dutch and the Americans

Arrival between 10.30 - 13.00

Take a shower and do some laundry

Rest for ½ hour

Have a light lunch

Tour of the city

Reading and writing

Dinner at 20.00

In bed at 22.00

Every f...... day ????!!!

So far I've managed to repeat this pattern to near perfection every day, and if I'm persistent enough and do my best, I'll probably make it through the last 4 days too. (PS: Strangely enough, it comes naturally. ....)
Dear hamster wheel - I love you so much and you don't have to find me in Denmark when I get home. I'll pack you happily and safely into my rucksack and carry you all the way with a smile on my face.

PS: Last lesson today. Washing machines will probably never be my core competency - I live with that, as the competence is fortunately not necessary in my domestic hamster wheel - and here again I send a little grateful thought to Helle.
PPS: Just for reflection. The first man I left behind on today's route, downtown Vigo, was wearing a black t-shirt with the text: ‘Satanist worship’ on the back.......................................................................do you think I just got going here. Maybe it was one of Lisa's disciples.

Pontevedra, 03.10.2023 (Today's total kilometres: 28.28 - 33,715 steps)
618 - Yes, the catch today was unrivalled for a hunter like me. And no, it wasn't 618 clay pigeons, pheasants or wild boar that were caught, killed and eaten on my trip today. Karl was number 366, Karl's camino friend number 367, Sara number 402 and Claudia (Schiffer) number 403.

PS: Had dinner yesterday with Claudia - Schiffer, as I called her. Then I remember the name better ???? Alone and mum on a trip from Leipzig with husband and 2 children aged 15 and 19 at home, and left on the platform to break her domestic hamster wheel. And then I thought of Lucy again - I wonder if she still has diamonds in her legs.... haven't seen her since.

Damn, it was a good feeling to have a day of uninterrupted hare hunting. It's simply the hunt and my own competitive nature that makes me feel happy. If there's no element of competition, then I'm simply bored. Some might say that I'm crazy and what does the Camino have to do with competition? Isn't it the exact opposite that's the purpose? Slow walking and the ability to find inner peace. Some would even say that I just have a hard time resting in myself - perhaps running away from myself.

But here came my learning.
Bringing my speed and competitive spirit into play gives me inner peace, satisfaction, I rest in myself and almost have the feeling of floating over the hills, mountains and cobblestones of north-west Spain. I'm definitely going to continue this when I get home.
I'm also starting to understand now - well into my second week - when cyclists and Jonas Vingegaard tell me that their legs get better and better as the Tour de France or Vuelta Espana progresses. I haven't quite been able to understand it with my mind, but then I'm lucky that the legs speak their own clear language. Right now, this feels like my own Vuelta Portugues/Espana in top form - only on foot. And God, I'm so grateful that I had the opportunity to live it out in such beautiful surroundings with smiling and curious fellow hikers on my way.

It's definitely not the last time I'll be walking long and fast. It's just a question of where and when. Maybe 100 kilometres in 24
hours, a Mammut March in Copenhagen or Dodentocht (Death March) in Belgium. Or a new Camino from a new starting point - time will tell. A new goal is set, and I love setting goals and not least the process towards achieving them.

And here's my second learning today, which has become even more evident than ever on this trip. It's not the goal that justifies the process. It's the process that honours the goal. And on this trip, there is a nice touch of holiness combined with luck (being able to) that leads you confidently
towards the destination in Santiago. Once you understand how to enjoy the process - even when it hurts - the greater (hopefully) the feeling of happiness when the goal appears on the horizon. I can feel myself really starting to look forward to Friday more and more when the cathedral appears in the distance.

A few further reflections on today's trip is that here we really encountered the two steepest/difficultest and longest climbs of our trip, and at times I got the experience that there was almost a queue and clumps in traffic up the mountains. The reason was that the two Portuguese routes (the land route and the coastal route) were combined into one route, and now I realise that both the number of hares has increased considerably (which is good for my competitive spirit), but some of the peace, quiet and
idyll has gone a bit off the whistle. But whatever, I whistle happily on my way to Mandalay.

Padron, 05.10.2023 (Today's total kilometres: 25.25 - 2G.530 steps)
It's the day before the day. You know, the day before the presents are unwrapped and we all gather around the big table, enjoying the food and each other's company.
I wonder if this is how it will be in Santiago, where we gather the whole class, enjoy each other's company, a Spanish meal and take a look at our big gift - the blisters....oh no, the Camino pass - we'll see.

But the day before was also the day I was given a nick-name by the German and Austrian Caministas (my new word for my fellow hikers) that I've greeted, had coffee with and smiled at as I nabbed them one by one on my walk.

It was Thomas - a friendly middle-aged German - who shouted after me as I passed him. Yes, I only had one goal for the day today - another record time for the collection, and you know what? The record time got one over on me, as I also had pent-up energy from the morning, as we had to wait 1 hour later for breakfast at the hotel, and therefore couldn't leave at exactly 8.30am, like the other 11 days. The hamster wheel has not lived in vain.

Just passed Thomas and he shouted: ‘Hallo, du muss din schnelle Arne sein’. I responded with. ‘Ja, das bin ich’ and asked for his name, as I haven't spoken to him before, but only remember greeting him politely a couple of times before. ‘Die anderen hat es mich erzählt....dine name’. I smiled and said inside myself (MIP, MIP - like the cartoon and the road runner in English - and since my surname is Juul and I have good legs, that name suits me very well....Hjulben????)

And then I was gone, leaving behind only a cloud of dust. I know, I'm exaggerating a bit, but it helps you understand...! About half an hour later I passed a café and there were some Germans and a young mum and her 9-year-old son, Jannes from Austria. And again they shouted: ‘Hallo, die schnelle Arne"). I smiled and waved at them - and no, I didn't have the time or desire for a break.

Later that day in Padron, when I met them again, I learnt that it was Jannes who had come up with the name that had now become mine. And if you put different weights on the word ‘schnelle’, that name can have different positive meanings - and I take them all on board.
But one thing is repeated again and again on these trips through forests, fields and small north-west Spanish villages. I miss the wild coasts of Portugal. They really shook you up, and who doesn't need a good shake once in a while.

And a little late afternoon reflection, learning and observation must also be included. ALWAYS book a hostel, guesthouse, room, hotel or whatever you want to stay in EARLY. This afternoon there was near panic in Padron. Many people were simply struggling to find a place to spend the night - and
outside the high season. How wild it must be when it's high season. I imagine that you have to walk an extra 10 - 20 kilometres just to find accommodation and the nearest place to sleep.

Damned, how lucky I am again that this ‘stress’ is not following me on this trip: Good luck for tonight girls and boys, I hope to see you all in Santiago tomorrow.

PS: I've always wanted a name other than Arne. And now I might have found it, if I was from Padron.
was from Padron. ‘Ramon from Padron’...that would sound pretty cool.

Santiago de Compostela, 06.10.2023 (Today's total kilometres: 31,47 - steps 37,218)

THE FINAL WALK.
The day can be beautifully framed in two lyrics and songs: ‘Fly on the wings of love’ (Olsen Brothers 2000)
‘We are the champions’ (Queen, 1977)

My train departed precisely - as I love it - at 8.30am from the station in Padron, or rather from the beautiful hotel Pazo de Lestrove.
The last journey of the Camino train on the ‘Orient Express’ (understood as a luxury trip and beautiful experiences).
There they were again - the butterflies, happily flying around in our stomachs and heads, looking forward to our final leg and last trip on a
completely overwhelming and unforgettable journey. I might as well
admit here that I have shed more tears of happiness and gratitude and ‘touchiness’ over the last fortnight than I have in the last 10 years of my life. I seriously did not see that one coming. But I take it home as a gift for life - one of the greatest gifts I have ever received and
experienced.

I think only once before in my life have I been so moved on holiday, and that was about 25 years ago, when I stood on top of a snowy mountain for the first time.
top of a snow-capped mountain in Canazei, Italy, listening to Andrea Bocelli's ‘Nessun dorma’. Just thinking about it gives me goosebumps all over again, just as it did when I saw one of the beautiful milestones along my entire route with less than 10 kilometres left of my Camino.
And what a ride I had today. It crawled deep under my skin. From start to finish, I met nothing but smiles, joy, hugs and glow in everyone's eyes.
We all knew that something big was waiting at the end of the rainbow. The ride today simply flew by with love in abundance and it made me
smile and sing ‘Fly on the wings of love - fly baby, fly’ - but only to myself.

And music has also been a really nice companion on my trip. Not from the I-phone, earpods or other technical equipment. It just followed me in my head from day one as we walked kilometres of board-walks along the Portuguese coast. And yes, this is where a song that I started every single day

I started my hike with: ‘Under the board-walks’ (Drifters, 1964, and perhaps better known by none other than Bruce Willis, 1987, also the year
I met my beloved wife HELLE, to whom I am happily married for 35 years, and who has been with me on the entire trip in my heart and on the phone????)
 

Flying into Santiago, big city, crowds and people, mixed with food odours everywhere. The joy of anticipation turned out to be water compared to what awaited me and thousands of other Camino travellers.
Through crowded streets, even more crowds, walking and impressions, round a corner and suddenly an opening to the square in front of the cathedral in Santiago de Compostela. The final destination for all of us, some with 779 kilometres in their legs and poles from the French route starting in Saint Jean Pied de Port, others from the Portuguese land route with 237.7 kilometres and not to mention myself and my Camino class with 280 kilometres in my legs from the Portuguese coastal route.

And then there it was again, again, again....the goosebumps that could be felt everywhere and can be felt again as I sit writing these words as I entered the square in front of the cathedral. The sight of the cathedral was simply so overwhelming that tears came out of the corners of my eyes, and whether it was just the sight of the cathedral or also a large portion of pride, relief and emotions saved from the whole trip that had to go out, I do not know - but welcome they were.
And welcome we felt - all of us who, with our own personal and physical backpack, had reached the end of our journey and personal adventure. As I sat on the ground, trying to regain my footing and wipe the tears from the corners of my eyes, I suddenly heard a group start singing: ‘We are the champions, my friend, and we will keep on fighting to the end’. We fucking did it, all of us, in our own way.

Never have I seen and felt so many champions gathered in one place as here in front of the cathedral in Santiago. This place simply has to be the happiest place in the world. Because think about it, it's not just today that the square is buzzing with life, love and happiness. It's every single day, 365 days a year. Today, 3,442 of us landed on the Square of Love.

Thank you for the fight, thank you for the ride and in eternal gratitude

Epilogue 1 - Camino class

Having arrived in Santiago de Compostela and heading to bed, it's time for the final reflections on this journey.

I thought that my Camino class was formed from day one and sent off together for the next 14 days through thick and thin. Here I was so horribly and beautifully wrong at the same time.

You form the Camino class along the way. Meeting all these wonderful people from all over the world suddenly turns into regular conversation partners, a cup of beer or wine, a coffee, a lunch and sometimes dinner together. Here I was thinking I could keep to myself, but fortunately - as is my nature - I could not.

My class became international and my class, like so much else on this trip, became my own personal Camino class.

Thank you for following, welcoming and inviting:

Rie and Jan (Denmark)

Hanne and Agnete (Denmark)

Berit and Christina (Denmark)

Carl (Denmark)

Monique and Leon (Netherlands)

Laura and Chris (Colorado, US)

Linda and Monika (Texas, US)

Sara, Kristin and Claudia (Germany)

Melanie and Jannes (Austria)

Epilogue 2 - And wiser I became....about myself ????

Many people asked me when I told them about my upcoming trip on the Camino:

‘Are you going to get your life together?’

‘Are you going to do some deep thinking?’

‘Are you going to gain greater self-awareness?’

To all of them I replied that I am in complete control of myself, my life and who I am. I do it because I can and Helle has given me permission. I do it to break my hamster wheel and physically challenge myself, get in better shape and as a side benefit lose a few kilos.

My thoughts today and my final reflections and lessons learnt on this trip are that I probably did a lot more deep thinking than I had expected, and through this I gained a lot more self-awareness. And I wonder if it doesn't also lead to the management of one's life becoming even better than it was before the Camino.

The last 3 and not insignificant thoughts (for me) that I want to share are:

That through the writing process and the writing of the word itself, I got much closer to myself and my feelings - wow, I didn't see that coming and I highly recommend it.

‘Accept who you are’.

On the Camino, I met a man with a backpack on which he had sewn:

‘Life is a journey - not a race’.

My rucksack should have read:

‘I love a challenge - and I love to race’.

At the age of 15, I only got a grade 11 in Danish spelling. I've been annoyed ever since, as this was my first and only time I had the opportunity to get the top grade of 13. The only word I didn't spell correctly was: HARES! I firmly believed that the teacher had said: Rooks. And then I spelt it this way instead.

I've been chasing them ever since, the hares that is, and will continue to chase them for the rest of my life, as long as I can.