When we walked the Camino de Santiago from Porto to Santiago de Compostela, I took charge of all the planning, from designing our itinerary and booking accommodations to handling logistical details like luggage transfers.

I think I did well in choosing our stays, but Casa Fernanda is the one I’m most proud of. From the moment I first read about it, I knew I wanted us to spend a night there. It was, in fact, the very first place I booked.

In one of the forums I read, Fernanda was described as a legend on the Camino Portugués, and indeed, she was.

Casa Fernanda is a highly regarded albergue located in Vitorino dos Piães, known for its exceptional hospitality, communal dinners, and family atmosphere. It is a small, intimate stop where Fernanda and her husband create a welcoming environment for pilgrims, sharing homemade food, wine, and laughter.

It was the highlight of our third day on the Camino. We walked from Barcelos, a charming historic town recognized by UNESCO, to Vitorino dos Piães. It was an uneventful walk since we followed Google Maps and ended up walking mostly on highways instead of the marked trail. Casa Fernanda turned out to be the bright spot of the day.

The entrance was easy to spot, although we almost missed it because a car parked in front had blocked the familiar Camino signs. The gate, framed by grapevines, opened to a path lined with apple and other fruit trees leading straight toward Fernanda’s home. When we turned left, we saw a few pilgrims already relaxing, chatting, resting their feet, and enjoying the calm after a long day’s walk.

Some pilgrims were lounging on the sofas, others were drying their clothes in the garden. The open kitchen, with its long dining table, already felt like the heart of the place. There were two rooms, one with ten beds and another private room for three with an ensuite bathroom, which became our home for the night.

After we settled in, we enjoyed the garden. Some pilgrims picked peaches for everyone to share. We don’t have those back home in the Philippines, so it felt special.

Fernanda then started frying padrón peppers, the first of many we would eat on this trip, along with what looked like croquetas. I joined her in the kitchen, and she happily welcomed us, telling me stories about other Filipinos she had hosted. She recalled one who traveled alone during winter and got lost until a dog led him to Casa Fernanda.

Later, we gathered in the living room to enjoy our welcome snacks with the other pilgrims. That was when our Camino friendship began.

We met a family from Galicia who were walking from Porto to Valença and planned to continue next year, a Latina who had the same family name as my mom (so I jokingly called her “cousin”), a family from Germany with two teenagers, and many other interesting travelers.

We spent the rest of the afternoon sharing Camino stories until dinner time, when we gathered around the long communal table. Fernanda served us a feast that started with soup, followed by pasta, a meat dish, and a salad picked fresh from her garden.

Before we ate, she led a short prayer. She reminded us how lucky we were to be walking the Camino, that many wished to do it but couldn’t, and that whenever we felt tired, we should be thankful. She said the Camino is a time to pray, to meditate, to cry, and to heal, and encouraged us to offer some of our steps for world peace.

After dinner, Fernanda brought out port wine and a guitar. Soon, the room was filled with music. Each group sang a song from their country. We chose Panalangin by the Apo Hiking Society. A Jewish girl sang a traditional folk song, and a Chinese pilgrim sang one from her culture. That was when I realized not everyone walking the Camino was Catholic, and that there were many reasons people chose to walk, not just for pilgrimage.

When my companion Lanie, who had just celebrated her birthday, gave out rosaries as souvenirs, we found ourselves explaining our faith and our culture.

After a few glasses of wine, I quietly slipped away, my French exit for the night, content and grateful.

The next morning, Fernanda served us a hearty breakfast at her house. We had bread, cake, cheese, ham, jams, fruits, tea, and coffee. We continued our conversations until it was time to line up for our pilgrim passports to be stamped before heading back to the trail.

It was a beautiful stay, the kind that reminds you why the Camino is not just about the walking, but also about the people you meet along the way.

Back in Roman times, people believed this rugged peninsula on Galicia’s west coast marked the edge of the known world. Its name, Finisterre, comes from the Latin finis terrae, which literally means “end of the earth.”

After completing our 276.8-kilometer Camino walk from Porto, Portugal to Santiago de Compostela, we decided to go a little farther to the very end of the world.

The Camino Finisterre is an extension of the Camino de Santiago, and the only official Camino route that starts in Santiago and ends at the Atlantic coast, either at Cape Finisterre or the nearby town of Muxía. Walking this route is said to symbolize closure and renewal, a final reflective chapter for those concluding their pilgrimage.

Traditionally, pilgrims make the journey on foot, covering around 90 to 120 kilometers in less than a week. The route blends Christian pilgrimage with ancient pagan rituals and even has its own credencial and completion certificate called the Fisterrana. But we could not walk it, not just because we were already tired and worn out, but also because time was not on our side.

Instead, we took the 9:00 a.m. Monbus to Fisterra, a four-hour ride that wound through small towns before finally revealing the coast. Once there, we had lunch and then hailed a cab to Cape Finisterre.

Finisterre is often called the westernmost point of the Iberian Peninsula, though technically Portugal’s Cabo da Roca lies about 16.5 kilometers farther west, and even Spain’s Cabo Touriñán edges it out slightly. Still, Finisterre holds unmatched symbolic power.

The mountain at Cape Finisterre, Monte Facho, rises 238 meters or 781 feet above sea level. In ancient times, Celts came here to worship the sun and perform rituals. Echoes of these traditions survive in the symbolic burning of shoes or belongings at the end of the Camino, though this is now prohibited.

Countless shipwrecks from both ancient and modern times lie beneath the Atlantic here. Because of its treacherous rocks and violent storms, this area has long been known as the Coast of Death.

At the tip of the cape stands a lighthouse built in 1853, a silent witness to centuries of maritime history and naval battles fought between the French and English.

Our first stop was the 0.0-kilometer waymarker beside the lighthouse, where every visitor seems to line up for a photo. 

After, we walked past the lighthouse and down the hill toward the sea. The cliffs drop dramatically into the Atlantic, the waves crashing endlessly below.

We sat there for a long while, mesmerized, feeling as though time had paused. If ever there is a place to be fully present in life, this is it.

Nearby stands the bronze boot sculpture, said to commemorate pilgrims who reached this point and, according to the Pilgrim’s Guide to Finisterre (2009, Confraternity of St. James), perhaps one who drowned here in the 1990s.

Also close to the Sanctuary is a large stone monument marking the tragic sinking of the Prestige oil tanker in November 2002, one of Spain’s worst environmental disasters. The ship went down carrying 77,000 tons of oil, devastating the coast and its communities.

As the day waned, we took a cab back to Fisterre. After coffee and traditional pastries, we caught the 6:45 p.m. bus back to Santiago de Compostela, filled with quiet satisfaction and awe at the endless horizon we had just witnessed.

Ever since I first heard about the Camino, I’ve been drawn to it. The idea of walking for days on a pilgrimage, passing through historical towns, discovering new cultures, and sharing the trail with people from all over the world has always fascinated me.

The Camino de Santiago, or "Way of St. James," is a network of ancient pilgrimage routes across Europe leading to the Cathedral of Santiago de Compostela in northwestern Spain, which is believed to house the tomb of the Apostle Saint James the Greater.

Wore the HOKA Mafate Three 2 and finished without a single blister. Highly recommended for the Camino.