On our 'last day' on the Camino we walked a hilly 41 kilometres in 27 degree heat with 12 kilogram packs. After setting off at 8am, the marathon had lasted 13 hours.
Arriving on the outskirts, close enough to feel the city's heartbeat, was one of life's special moments. Stunned disbelief might be the best description.
I'm not sure it would have felt the same knocking off the final 10km or so the next morning.
And so, off we trudged through town towards the Cathedral of Santiago de Compostela.
Nearly 200,000 pilgrims completed the walk's final few kilometres last year, a figure set to be dwarfed in 2012. But lone pilgrims rolling up as late as we did isn't the norm.
For us, there were a few strange looks, and "well done"s and cheers from bars. Though normally a 'state highway', this night there were no other pilgrims in sight.
We finally reached Camping As Cancelas just before 10pm: 2.4km from the cathedral, it's the official end of the Camino, where St James' remains are said to lie in a tomb under the main altar.
Santiago of course is, and has been for a very long time, a varsity town. Founded in 1495, Spain's fifth-largest university is now home to over 40,000 students. As we found out the following day, it creates a weird mix with the thousands of pilgrims arriving each week.
At the pilgrims' office beside the cathedral, officers check our Camino stamp book, containing markers from bars and accommodation from our journey. The proof.
We receive our Compostela completion certificates, but it feels a bit empty. Our stamp books are full of memories - what does a certificate at the end really mean?
We attend midday mass, and we're in luck. A generous benefactor has forked out €240 for the botafumeiro, a giant censer held by long ropes and swung from side to side inside the cathedral, emitting clouds of incense. It is normally reserved for St James' Day (July 25) and special 'feast days' - and whenever someone (often a finishing pilgrim) is willing to pay, like today.
Outside, in Santiago's huge square, old, familiar faces are everywhere. All around there are reunions - acquaintances reunited, stories told.
At the nearby Parador, some are queuing to collect one of their three free meals for completing the walk. The hotel is among Santiago's finest though the old tradition is now largely symbolic. They don't want frugal pilgrims lowering the tone. Instead of the main restaurant, three times a day 10 'lucky pilgrims' are whisked through the underground carpark and into a back room for some low-end fare.
In the Old Town, meanwhile, we're taking a different route gorging on Galica's speciality fare. We'd been holding off trying pulpa for days... but it turns out to be a disappointment. It seems octopus on sliced potato is no salt and pepper squid.
Later, in the setting-sun, we wander Santiago and reflect. We've walked the Camino, technically in 37 days. It seems like forever since the start. And yet this isn't where St James' story in this part of the world ends.
That's further on, another 91km at the coast. Finisterre awaits.
Route marker: 775km down ... but we're tacking a on few more.
* Simon Winter is a former nzherald.co.nz news editor. He and partner Lisa are following the sun through Europe.
