Immediate, knee-jerk reactions are not always the best or the truest expression of meaning. Some events are so large that one must step back, away, or inside to view it from every possible angle–and arriving in Santiago was precisely this kind of event.
The arrival itself was anticlimactic at best. Upon seeing the city, I’d expected to feel a great sensation, a specific poignant pleasure, but in reality I experienced nothing of note. I wandered about in a daze, hardly heeding sights or sounds. I was truly physically, mentally, and spiritually exhausted, as though my Camino was already far too full to make room for even one more wild encounter.
And yet, if I had merely ended with this impression, it would have been too soon. The night spent in Santiago, with friends I’d known for either thirty or three days, was unforgettable, brimming with hilarious mishaps and daring successes–not unlike the Camino itself. I realized that although Santiago de Compostela had been the physical destination, it wasn’t necessarily the final one, and that although the trip has finally drawn to a close, this certainly isn’t the end.
Each friend represents a world in us, a world possibly not born until they arrive, and it is only by this meeting that a new world is born.
Author’s Note: I’d like to thank all of my friends and family, old and new, for joining me on this incredible adventure. Your continued support has been invaluable to me.