Santiago was getting close… Real close…

The gin and tonics from the night before had once again gone straight to my hungover head that morning but after a little sleep in I felt refreshed enough to crawl back onto the Camino de Santiago.

Myself and my three favourite pilgrim buddies started our walk just as the run began to throw shades of pink and purple across the planet.

Once again it felt good to be walking through Northern Spain. There was honestly no where I would have rather been.

Our destination for the day was Sarria – a major town on the Camino de Santiago and a major medieval pilgrim centre.

With a bounty of churches, cathedrals, chapels, monasteries and a whopping 7 pilgrim hospitals it also marks the starting point for many pilgrims attempting the last 100km of The Way of Saint James.

We decided to book a room ahead as the four of us were proven non-snorers (even though Tom had his ‘sleep screaming German’ reputation) so our organised accommodation guru Bill made sure we would have a room for four in the pilgrim hot spot.

The days walk was beautiful and featured towns bursting with flowers, food stops accompanied by familiar faces and locals going about their farming beside the path.

I had been warned that the final stages of the Camino de Santiago would be stunning and so far Galicia was not disappointing at all.

Eventually we made it into Sarria – where our reserved room for four didn’t exist.

Disheartened and picturing ourselves in a 100-bed monastery filled with serial snorers we bitterly left the overbooked albergue. But just as we were about to leave and post awful reviews on Pilgrim TripAdvisor the lady managed to arrange a room at a different albergue.

A very nice, very private room for four.

I could already feel the freshness of a good nights sleep.

At some point that day we had lost or favourite German buddy but eventually we found Tom and the four of us headed out to dine at the ‘best Pulperia in Galicia’ – something we had been fantasising about all day.

For some strange reason octopus is the signature dish for this region which is mostly inland – but who were we to complain about the tasty octopus meal that had been on the menu the past few days.

We had made a crucial error.

Pulpo was a lunchtime meal.

No pulp for dinner.

We settled for Italian.

After a couple of late nights we headed home earlier than usual – excited to enjoy the serenity of our luxury small-dorm accommodation.

The next day we would be passing the 100km milestone.

I was starting to enjoy my pilgrim life too much and the end seemed far too bittersweet.

Turning to reality seemed like a horrible idea and I was having a lot of difficulty brainstorming career options that involved walking 30-40km on a daily basis…