Today was a strange little coda to the trip. It really felt like I'd completed the traverse of the Pyrenees yesterday, but the GR11 demands that you hike out to the barren wasteland of Cap de Creus to complete the route.
I had a super-dawdly start and didn't leave the campground until 8am, and then immediately stopped in Port de la Selva for a café con leche and croissant. I was getting a bit worried that the day was slipping away, and my foot was off the gas.
But once I was out of Port de la Selva, the kilometres ticked by, and it wasn't long before I was on the final stretch of tarmac road leading up to Faro Cap de Creus lighthouse, surrounded by cars and tourists.
At the lighthouse I could see continuing red and white markers. Not quite there yet. I followed the paint marks through ever more jaggy rocks, towards the true headland.
Soon I was alone again reaching the final red and white mark; then a cairn; then a cliff into the sea. This really was the end of line.
For 23 days, every footstep had been leading to this point, but now the journey was over. I was off duty. I was just another tourist bumbling around on the rocks.
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