Camino dos Faros Lighthouse Way Spain

Day 8: Barizo to Malpica (and home)

My last walking day. The reason for the marathon 38km stage yesterday was that I need to be in Malpica by 13.00 to catch a bus. The owner of the pension that I stayed at yesterday told me it would only take 2 hours and it was flat all the way. With 350m elevation over 12km it wasn’t exactly flat. It took 3 hours including stops for pictures and to take my shoes off and on so I could  walk through a knee-high stream on a beach.

The paths were fine, the views as spectacular along the coastline and, as I approached Malpica, to the nearby islands of Sisargas and Malante. I passed a green house with sculptures that reminded me of the 1960’s (I’m old enough to remember the 1960’s) and for some reason the Beatle’s (see further down the post).

My legs were amazingly heavy today – perhaps not so surprising after yesterday. I was so happy that I only needed to walk 12kms, as I am not sure I would have managed many more

I passed this house, obviously owned by art lovers. For some reason it reminded me of John Lennon and the Beatles.

The walk into Malpica has some spectacular views of a town built on both sides of a steep-cliff peninsula, all the way down to the sea.

I walked through the town and into to the port, the normal starting point of the Camino dos Faro’s (I walked it backwards), and …. well, that was it. I took a minutes reflection about what I had experienced, the ups and downs, the scrambling and long stages, but most of all,  the incredible scenery.

It was 12.30 and I went to look for the bus stop. A man could see that I was disorientated and pointed it out for me. I had 30 mins, but didn’t want to take any chances. More people arrived a few minutes before 13.00, and the bus came exactly on time. Thirty minutes later, speeding along small roads, I changed bus in Carballo, arriving in A Coruna 40 minutes later.

In A Coruna, the bus station wasn’t near the old town, so I sat in the shade, got a bite to eat and watched the world go by before taking a 3rd bus to the airport. It was 17.00 and my flight was at 19.40. I noticed another flight to Madrid at 17.30, and asked if I could be transferred, which they kindly allowed, even though they had closed for check-in.

At Madrid airport we were 7 people who waited 45 minutes for a total of 12 pieces of checked in luggage. I stayed overnight one stop on the metro a 3 min trip that cost 7,90 Euros- more that it cost me on the 3 buses together.
I worked in Madrid for 9 months in 1987-88, and lived ca. 500m from where I stayed tonight. Back then, it was a small town separate from Madrid. Now it is part of Madrid, and not even on the outskirts of Madrid. Times change and cities expand.

I had a burger for dinner. Most of the restaurants sold international food, not Spanish. I had a good nights sleep.

My flight was mid-afternoon, so after breakfast I walked around Barajas, not recognising anything  from the time I lived here in the 80’s, before taking the metro the one stop back to the airport. I had plenty of time.

For some reason, I couldn’t check-in at the self-service machine, so I queued up at the check-in desk. The lady behind the desk couldn’t find my reservation either. Eventually she found a reservation for Mr. Steven Steven! After almost 15 years working for SAS and Amadeus, I could never imagine making such a mistake. She wasn’t sure what to do, but issued my boarding pass and said they could decide what to do at the gate.

After an anxious couple of hours wait for my flight, I queued and watched as they checked the ticket and passport as people boarded. They did the same with me, but didn’t note any difference – I was happy, but couldn’t help but speculate as to why they check ones passport and ticket, if they don’t pick up on discrepancies.

Safely back in Denmark, I took the metro and met Lene at the station. She’d made a nice dinner – it was great to have homemade food again after so many days on the road with restaurant meals.

In the middle of the night the fire alarm went off – a low battery – but I felt a banging pain in my left hand, and I could see that it was heavily swollen. It got worse during the night. I called the doctor next morning and after examining my hand she suspected infection/blood poisoning.

As I update this post, after 15 days penicillin cure and visiting a specialist, my thumb is still swollen. The specialist had no idea, just as I didn’t, of what caused it, but if it is was to happen, I’m happy it happened back home and not in Spain.

Again, thanks to all the have followed me on Facebook, sent comments, liked, encouraged me etc. It is greatly appreciated. It has been an enjoyable trip. The Lighthouse Way was hard, but fabulous, many of the sites only for walkers or sailors.

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