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.