At seventy-three, I was one of the oldest people on the pilgrimage between Oviedo and Santiago, but I advanced at a steady pace for sixteen days, with a walking stick in my hand and a backpack on my back. They were exhausting, exhilarating days crossing an unforgettable landscape, full of emotional encounters with other walkers and spiritual reflection. I relived my entire life, and when I finally arrived at the cathedral of Santiago de Compostela, it was with the certainty that death is merely the threshold to another form of existence. The soul transcends.
