Last night in Finisterre

Another day, another goodbye. They were coming thick and fast but each one just as sad as the last.

This morning we were losing Susanna and Sueon, two amazing women. Susanna, all joy, insight and laughter, Sueon, all determination, lightness and sweetness.

We walked down to the the bus stop together where we squeezed in some final hugs and waved them off with tears in our eyes.

As I watched the bus pull away, my sadness turned into something else - gratitude, I was all thankfulness that I'd be able to share my journey with them, and with that realisation, peace.

Davide, Martine and I headed to a cafe for a coffee, which turned into an early morning beer, then another, then another.

Finally we decided it was time to hit the beach. We headed back to the hostel, picked up Manon and Ines, packed and picnic and set off to find a beautiful little cove we'd be told about.

Sure enough, a gorgeous beach and the rough, inspiring waters of the Atlantic awaited us.

Davide wandered along the shore, Martine read, Manon and Ines built a sandcastle, I went for a paddle...and an unexpected dip, thanks to the aforementioned rough waters!

Dragging myself back onto two feet, spluttering and covered in sand, watched by a bemused Davide, I headed for the safety of the beach and my book.

Later we had a picnic where, in the absence of a knife, we spread cheese on bread using my credit card.

That night, I would sit around a table, eat a home-cooked meal and drink red wine with my friends for the last time. We were becoming an ever smaller group but these little rituals kept the spirit of the community we'd created with our friends alive.

I crept into bed that night a little hazy from the wine, but feeling peaceful, safe in the knowledge that these friendships I'd made wouldn't end with the Camino.

Whatever happens, I think we've carved a little image of ourselves on each other's hearts forever.