Spain: The Final Camino Steps — Crossing into Spain & Reaching Santiago
- Oct 2, 2025
- 3 min read
Updated: Jul 28
If you missed Part 1 of my Camino journey, we began in Portugal with pastel de nata, Roman bridges, and birthday serenades. Pilgrim’s passports in hand, we collected our first stamps while winding through vineyards, villages, and the coastal paths of northern Portugal.
Now, the Camino leads us onward—across the Minho River into Spain, onto the Ons Islands, and finally into the heart of Santiago de Compostela.
Adios Portugal, Hola Spain
After breakfast, we shuttled to the fortified town of Valença do Minho, the last town of the Caminho Português in Portugal and the end of the 19th stage. We hugged the Minho River - the natural border between Portugal and Spain and ventured into the beautiful Fortaleza de Valença, a 17th-century star fortress built to defend Portugal during the Restoration Wars.
We wandered the ramparts, did a shopping, refueled, and collected another stamp in our pilgrim passports - the ink a tangible reminder of crossing between two worlds.
Fortaleza de Valença entry bridge over the mote A tunnel in Fortaleza de Valença Cathedral entrance in Tui
The medieval town of Tui welcomed us on the other side, its narrow streets echoing with history. Some of us walked on, following the Louro River through grassy wetlands until we reached Pazo Los Escudos Hotel & Spa, a historic manor house overlooking Alcabre Beach.
Dinner at Restaurante Alcabre that night was seafood heaven—Galician mariscos fresh from the coast.
The Ons Islands
On day four, we stepped off the Camino to explore one of Spain’s most spectacular national parks: Maritime Terrestrial National Park, which includes the archipelagos of Cíes, Ons, Cortegada and Sálvora.
We boarded a private boat bound for the Ons Nature Reserve, home to 63 year-round residents (not counting thousands of seabirds). Trails looped along cliffs and beaches with the sea glittering below.
The cliffs of Ons Nature Reserve
Lunch was at a seaside restaurant specializing in Pulpo de Ons – octopus caught by hand, cooked with potatoes, garlic, and paprika. Simple. Perfect.
Rain arrived as we hiked back, ponchos snapping in the wind, but it didn’t matter. These were the moments that bonded us.
That night, we checked into the Parador de Santiago de Compostela, one of the oldest hotels in the world, built in 1499 as a hostelry and hospital for pilgrims and commissioned by King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella.
Next door stood the famed Cathedral of Santiago, where we toured the interior and later attended high mass. We witnessed the awe-inspiring botafumeiro ritual—seven men pulling ropes to swing a massive incense burner across the nave. The smell, the smoke, the spectacle - unforgettable.
Cathedral of Santiago High Mass in the Cathedral We made it!! Feet of joy!
Mountain of Joy
Our last walking day took us into the Galician countryside, along the most popular stretch of the Camino Francés and Monte do Gozo, where pilgrims catch their first glimpse of Santiago.
For me, it was also a moment of release. I had carried some of my mother’s ashes on this trip, and I knew this was the place to scatter them. A massive cross stood tall on the hill, and there I let a part of her rest - woven into the journey of so many pilgrims before me.
Later that day, we walked the final miles into Santiago, joining throngs of other travelers, each one with their own story and reasons for walking. My pilgrim passport was filled with stamps - proof that I had walked, eaten, and laughed my way across two countries.
Our group of women celebrated with dinner at a Horta d’Obradoiro, a Michelin-nod restaurant inside a 17th-century home. Cocktails in the garden, dinner in a glass-walled greenhouse, laughter echoing across the table—it was the perfect exhale after days of challenge and reward.
Farewell to Santiago
A few hearty souls rose for one last four-mile hike. My cousin and I, feet thoroughly spent, opted instead for a leisurely breakfast and a final wander through Santiago’s cobblestone streets. We lingered in squares, peeked into shops, and soaked in the atmosphere one last time.
The journey home was predictably messy—flight delays, airport sprints, and all the usual tests of patience. But as I sat in Madrid’s lounge, glass of wine in hand, I thought back to the scallop shells, the Roman bridges, the seaside meals, and the sound of Fado music drifting through the night.
The Camino had tested me, soothed me, and filled me up in ways I hadn’t anticipated.
See you somewhere delicious.
Stamped By Tracey
