After Santiago there are way markers again, but this time they are to about three decimal places, which is irritating and unnecessary. I end up trying to ignore them, 'I've definitely walked more than .456km!' I think. The 20km is long. The forests are beautiful and wet and green, but be prepared, there aren't many towns. There are heaps of farm houses with oreolles, these look like miniature houses on stilts and are an ancient form of food storage. They were built up high to protect the stored crops from rodents and to allow the food to dry out and be kept for the winter.
In Santiago there is a cheese you have to try called Queso de Tetilla or Tit Cheese. It's called Tit Cheese because once upon a time an artist made a sculpture of a naked lady for the city that was considered to be too racy because her breasts were too large. The sculpture was removed and the local cheese makers started to make cheese shaped like breasts in honour of the sculptor. It's really good creamy cheese.
I make friends with a Spanish man from Barcelona and have some more language lessons. A la izquierda is to the left, a la derecha, is to the right, yo is I, yo tambien is me too, vale is ok, and de acuerdo is ok as well. Rapido is quickly and lento is slowly. He recommends a Spanish restaurant in Negreira; take a right at the supermercado and then right again at the first street you come to – enter the pub (which looks like nothing special) and continue one through the double doors and you'll find a salon packed with Spaniards eating pork ribs, delicious salads, steaks and amazing soups! I can't believe there's only two days to go until Finisterre.
I sit with a bunch of people from the hostel and meet a German girl who has a tattoo of a rocking-horse-fly from Alice in Wonderland. I think this is possibly the coolest tattoo I have ever seen. Then everything starts to go dramatically down hill. I feel really tired, so I go to bed early, and then the stomach cramps start. And before I know it it's all over. I spend the next twelve hours locked in a bathroom with terrible food poisoning, I have never had stomach aches like this. I take back all recommendations of that restaurant, avoid it! After the worst of it is over I feel so weak, I have barely slept and I can't eat anything for 24hrs. And so, my Camino ends. I catch a bus back to Santiago and skip the last two days to Finisterre (I'll save them for next time). I felt as though nothing could stop me! I was so close to the end! But I surprise myself because I'm not that upset. I will see no Finisterre, no lighthouse, no sunset and no ritualistic burning of clothes, but still – I have had such an amazing time on the Camino. I reach the train station in Santiago and catch an overnight train for Barcelona, tears wetting my face as all of the difficulties of the whole walk finally emerge, it's done, finished, over.