Day 10 - Utrera to Sevilla: ~34km
Eleven days ago, I took this photo of the sun’s first rays softly lighting up the AD 1198 Giralda beside the world’s largest medieval Gothic church, the cathedral of Sevilla.
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Then I took a bus to one of the Pillars of Hercules, gazed across the Mediterranean to the twin pillar on the north coast of Africa, turned around, and started walking back.
Halfway through the Vía Serrana, my camino and my world changed due to a family medical diagnosis. The exhilaration of the first half of the camino, of walking through the Canyon of the Vulture Nests, of the spectacular first glimpse of Ronda impossibly perched on a cliff top, of mountains and olive groves and whitewashed villages and all the magic of Andalucía — that all vanished.
I decided to keep walking, because my loved ones are all on different continents and I didn’t know what else to do. The walking helped — it must have helped — but I could barely pay attention to my surroundings. From the next three days, I remember tunnels and a castle and almost nothing else. Then last night it hit me that there was only one day left.
…
For the final act of the Vía Serrana today, I’m faced with a 34km stage in the rain. I almost skip it and take a 30-minute train ride from Utrera to Sevilla instead, because how much fun is it going to be to walk 34km in the rain?
But having fun isn’t why I’m walking this camino anymore. The pilgrimage has been stripped down to its most basic, persevering form: putting one foot in front of the other.
So that’s what I do today. After three hours of off-and-on drizzle in the early morning, biblical rain arrives and there’s nowhere to hide on the open plains, so I get drenched. By the time I reach the outskirts of Alcalá de Guadaira, the streets have become rivers and waterfalls are cascading down staircases.
The rain eventually stops and Sevilla arrives more quickly than I thought, but it takes an age to make it through the outskirts. Then I’m in the centre and it all comes at once — Plaza de España, the Universidad de Sevilla (where I once attended a paleography colloquium), the Real Alcázar, the cathedral. Suddenly the Giralda is soaring above me, I’m back to where I began, and it’s over.
I don’t know what to feel, but mostly I’m just exhausted. I take the same photo I took before, yet it’s somehow completely different. It’s dull and gloomy and looks pretty much like the last four days have felt.
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But I don’t want that to be my last memory of this camino, so I go back 90 minutes later at nightfall and take the same photo for the third time, with lights and bells and whistles. It’s the brightest one of them all, and that’s how this journey ends.
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(The Mexican restaurant where I wanted to eat was closed because we are in the midst of some mid-week holiday puente here right now, and BK was right across the street, and open.)
..................................... that video brings back memories of Chemin d’Arles where the Way sometimes takes you through private farmlands. One particular day we had to walk through recently ploughed fields, made into thick mud after many days of rain. I thought I’d tied my shoes tightly enough - but alas no. As I tried to lift up my heavy mud laden foot, the whole shoe came off. If I hadn’t had my poles I’d have fallen over. Getting my foot back into the shoe was quite a feat. Don’t know how I would have done it if I were on my own - as you are - without Domi to hold me upright!
When we reveal what’s in our heart and lay bare our vulnerability, we open the way for others to show their understanding and compassion. We can all relate to what unfolded during your walk and we are richer for you sharing that with us. Safe journey onward 
