"The final leg of the Camino de Santiago" - Journeying from Samos to Santiago de Compostela.

 

By Maura Shaftoe – Businesswoman, Refirement Ambassador, Musician & Pilgrim

 

"The bells of the monastery in Samos echoed gently in the morning light. This sacred place, carved into the green heart of Galicia, offered me one last pause before the final leg of the Camino. I carried with me my journal, unfinished lyrics in my head, and wondered how this journey would end, or if it ever truly does.

I am looking forward to a winding, verdant stretch of stone paths, quiet forests, and small villages filled with pilgrims and poetry alike".

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Day 1: Samos to Sarria.

Leaving Samos felt like walking away from a sacred stillness.

The Monastery of San Xulián, is one of the oldest in Spain, and the path follows the river, cloaked in eucalyptus and oak. I walked slowly, savouring the silence. I thought of all the “final chapters” I’d written in my career, closing deals, completing projects; but this one felt different. This chapter was about surrender, not control. Surrendering to the emotional and spiritual learning that this journey has presented me with.

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Day 2: Sarria to Portomarín.  

Sarria is the traditional starting point for many pilgrims.

The path is busier, full of fresh faces and full hearts. Some pilgrims spoke little; others shared stories as if we’d always known each other.  As I crossed the Miño River into Portomarín, where the old church of San Nicolás stands like a fortress, my heart was full. The original town lies beneath the water, submerged when the river was dammed. A symbol, perhaps, of the layers we bury beneath our surface selves.  

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Day 3: Palas de Rei.

Each step felt heavier, not from fatigue, but from the gravity of approaching the end.  It was mixed feelings of elation that I was going to do this and sadness that it would soon be over.  Palas de Rei offered me a quiet night of reflection and songwriting, just me, my notebook, and the gentle hum of pilgrims settling in.

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Day 4: Melide

Melide, known for its Pulpo (octopus), was livelier.

Music, it seems, binds many of us across miles and languages and there was certainly a few I have met along this path. We have talked about dissonance and resolution, not just in music, but in life.

Highlights have included the Church of Vilar de Donas, with its faded frescoes and the scent of stone and incense, and several beautiful medieval bridges, each one carrying not just feet, but faith.

 

Day 5: Melide to Arzúa.  

The morning mist gave way to sunshine.

Galicia wrapped me in its rolling green fields and mossy paths. I hummed a new tune today. Not quite written, but there. A melody carried from village to grove, waiting for the right words.  When I reached Arzúa, with its creamy cheeses and warm people, it gave me one of the most generous welcomes yet. A local guitarist joined me in a tiny plaza. We didn’t speak the same language, but we harmonised effortlessly. The end was near, but I wasn’t rushing.

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Day 6: Arzúa to O Pedrouzo.  

This was a day of gratitude.

I thought about the young Maura—ambitious, driven, constantly moving. She wouldn’t have stopped to watch a butterfly land on a gnarled pilgrim’s cane. But I did today. And I felt grateful.  I took the opportunity to stop at a small stone chapel by the roadside, where I played my ukulele quietly to an empty pew. It felt like a prayer.

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Day 7: O Pedrouzo to Monte do Gozo. 

The name means “Mount of Joy” and it is.

From here, you see the spires of Santiago Cathedral for the first time. My breath caught in my throat, not from the climb, but from the knowing.  This is it. One more sunrise. One more song. One more stretch of earth beneath my feet.

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Day 8: Monte do Gozo to Santiago de Compostela. 

And just like that, I had I arrived.  

The Praza do Obradoiro opened before me like a stage. Pilgrims gathered, crying, laughing, resting. I sat quietly on the cold stone, looking up at the cathedral’s towers, and let the moment settle deep into my bones.  I didn’t need to rush inside. I didn’t need to do anything. I was here.​​