Starting high in the Pyrenees mountains between France and Spain, and leading to the Atlantic ocean, the Camino Frances is part of a series of ancient routes that unfold across Europe called the Camino de Santiago: a network of pilgrimages leading to the city of Santiago de Compostela in northwestern Spain. I spent 32 days walking 534 miles over hills and mountains, across deserts, through rivers, and in thick forests.
It's hard to capture 32 days worth of experiences in these snapshots, but hopefully they offer a picture of my journey on this adventure, and a glimpse into the time spent on this thru-hike.
The morning air was crisp and fresh, exactly as early summer mornings should be. I tied my shoes, slung my backpack over my shoulders, and stepped outside, feeling a mixture of excitement and nervous anticipation. Standing on Rue de la Citadelle in St-Jean-Pied-de-Port, I felt slightly out of place in shoes that weren't broken in and a hat from Lollapalooza. It was June 2nd, 2018, and I was about to begin the Camino de Santiago...read more.
The chirping of birds filled the dormitory as I rolled onto my side and pushed myself up from the bottom bunk. After a hasty packing session, I made one last check of my bag before heading downstairs. The morning felt crisp and calm, a quiet contrast to the strenuous hike from the day before. Outside, the rolling hills and mountains we had conquered yesterday stretched before me, serene and inviting...read more.
A misty rain and low gray clouds accompanied us as we grabbed breakfast at the café from the previous night. We crossed the bridge that had brought us into town and headed toward the hills, the damp chill in the air a quiet reminder of the Camino's unpredictability. For a brief stretch, industrial sites broke the green landscape, but soon we traded paved roads for gravel paths, leaving the town shrinking behind us into a multicolored dot on a hillside...read more.
Mornings in Pamplona had a calm, peaceful rhythm that I could get used to. With the streets empty, I set out ahead of the others to explore parts of the city I hadn't seen yesterday. Only a few pilgrims passed in the opposite direction, heading toward the next stage of the Camino. The city square was quiet, but as I ventured outward, I found bustling streets filled with early activity. I admired the architecture and strolled through several parks, though the arena where the bulls run was off-limits, leaving me slightly disappointed. Soon I returned to the Albergue to meet up with the group...read more.
The storks in the bell tower of the church next to the albergue were still asleep as the sun rose, casting a warm glow over the city. I set out ahead of the others for a quiet walk through the narrow stone streets of the old city, eventually reaching the east end of the queen's bridge that led out of town. On the far side, green-covered hills stretched into the distance, contrasting sharply with the stone streets behind me. I paused to take it all in, but familiar voices called my name. Tania, Shelby, and Alex were crossing the bridge, and I asked to join them for the day. They would become my Camino companions for the next several days...read more.
Another calm morning greeted us on the Camino, cloudy skies overhead as we retraced our steps from the previous day. With the Ega River at our backs, we walked along dirt paths lined with vine-covered stone walls. A fork in the road presented a choice: left for a shorter hike, or right for a longer one. We went right, drawn by the promise of the wine fountain in Irache and find it we did. Free red wine flowed from a spout at the winery, an indulgence at 7:30 in the morning that left our lips stained purple. Refreshed and slightly tipsy, we returned to the path and pressed on toward Monjardin...read more.
Morning arrived gently in Torres del Rio, with a soft breeze drifting through open windows and tossing the thin lace curtains in its wake. The sunrise was spectacular, with burning reds, glowing pinks, and warm yellows spreading across the fields. I had never seen nature so alive and radiant at this early hour. As we left the town and began the climb, I stole a look back at Monjardin across the fields. For the first time, I could truly measure the distance we had already traveled, and it was humbling...read more.
he day began with empty stomachs. Our assumption that a café would always be open early proved unreliable, and Logroño left us high and hungry as we departed the city. We trudged along city parks and bike paths, every closed store and silent café a reminder that the next opportunity for food lay 13 kilometers ahead...read more.
Not a cloud in the big blue sky greeted me as I retrieved the hanging laundry, packed my bag, and stepped outside. Pilgrims passed by the Albergue one by one, heading up the hill and out of sight. Food was on my mind after yesterday's debacle, so I made for the cafés in the opposite direction...read more.
I left Santo Domingo de la Calzada at seven in the morning, walking alone. I can't remember exactly why. Perhaps I was eager to start, maybe the others were sleeping in, or the forecast of heavy afternoon rain pushed me forward. The stage was meant to be short, and I could have slept longer, but the sun was already up, hidden behind clouds, as I stepped out into the fields...read more.
I woke early to the stirring of fellow pilgrims, finding both neighboring bunk beds already empty. Crissi had left too, likely with the first wave of walkers, and I missed the chance to say goodbye. My shoes were still soaked from yesterday, but after clearing out the newspaper I had stuffed inside, I packed up and headed toward Tania and Shelby. The rest of the group had stayed at the first Albergue outside of town...read more.
I woke to the sound of a rooster and the wind whipping across the exposed country road. Breakfast at the Albergue was a simple but filling serving of eggs and toast, my first homemade meal on the Camino, and a comforting start to the day. Once fueled, we set off on foot for Atapuerca, making a quick stop at a café for a small second breakfast before tackling a hill near the excavation site. At the top, a tall wooden cross overlooked the rolling fields, and a stone arrow pointed the way toward Burgos. Ahead, a silent spiral maze drew our attention, and we each took turns walking toward its center, a small wooden cross marking the goal. The calm simplicity of it was almost meditative...read more.
I woke early to a quiet Albergue and headed to the cafeteria for a cold breakfast of cereal and toast. A quick check of my locker revealed that I'd forgotten my towel, but Tania was awake to hand it to me, and I gave her one last hug before saying goodbye. Stepping out into the crisp morning air, I realized that I had no idea how to leave the city. Without a guidebook or anyone ahead to follow, I found the river and followed it blindly, my panic slowly subsiding as markers reappeared and I spotted other pilgrims in the distance...read more.
Before the sun had risen, we packed our bags in the hallway, navigating the clutter left by other early risers. Locked doors threatened to slow us down, but after some creative exploring through the kitchen, we were finally free to hit the trail with our head torches on. Darkness shrouded the early miles, making the walk strangely faster, and our small group, Bianca, Crissi, and Maddy, marched steadily into the hills...read more.
The sun was still asleep as we packed up and set out for Carrión de los Condes. After yesterday's lightning-fast pace, today promised a calmer, steadier walk, but Maddy soon had to pause and take it easy. She urged me to keep going, promising she'd catch up later...read more.
Want to know a great way to start your day? First, buy some liquid deodorant when you get into town the night before, then shake it vigorously the next morning, preferably not in the direction of your eyes. Half-blind and puffy-eyed, I reluctantly put on my glasses and prepared for what would become one of the longest days on the Camino...read more.
Today started like all the others: rise early, beat the heat, and get walking. Our exit from Sahagún in the pre-dawn hours was quiet. Most pilgrims were still asleep, including Bianca, and the streets were empty as we passed through the arch of San Benito, following the familiar yellow arrows out of the city...read more.
After days of relentless flat terrain, it felt glorious to sleep in. The sun was already up, and the other pilgrims had departed, but I was eager to get moving despite yesterday's lingering soreness. Our goal was León, and with it, to finally leave the endless Meseta behind...read more.
Creaking beds and rustling backpacks served as an early morning alarm, and there was no snooze button in sight. We had been letting ourselves sleep in lately, but there was no complaint as we went through the usual routine: pack bags, grab toast and jam, brush teeth, and head out. Crissi was the last to join us in the courtyard, and soon we were walking...read more.
I woke in the middle of the night to the sound of rain hitting the open windows, a sudden chill in the breeze reminding me it had arrived. Reluctantly, I shut the window closest to my bed, knowing the room would soon feel stuffy. The rain helped mask the snoring around me, and I fell back asleep. We had agreed to wake early to beat the heat, and a few hours later, I was up and getting ready...read more.
Sleep was elusive in the hot, stale attic dormitory. The faint echoes from the bathrooms below forced us to close the door, cutting off the only airflow that kept the room tolerable. Two small gable windows barely helped, and by 6 a.m., vibrations from a nearby pillow pulled me out of what little rest I had managed. Gear packed and ready, I joined the others in the landing outside our room and we quietly roused the rest of the building as we prepared to leave...read more.
Watching the sunrise is an effortlessly beautiful experience. It only takes a few minutes, but it can feel like an eternity. Waking up early has become second nature for our group, originally a strategy to avoid the hottest parts of the day, but now simply the rhythm of the Camino. Today's journey would take us past Cruz de Ferro, home to a growing pile of rocks that carries deep symbolic meaning for pilgrims...read more.
Another hot day on the Camino started with a mishap: I realized I had left my food back at the albergue and had to double back, meaning I would be walking alone for most of the day. Once I finally left the city, the route followed the river and soon led into the countryside. The first town I passed was too early for breakfast, so I pushed through, snacking on a banana I had brought along while listening to music as the farmlands rolled by...read more.
Crissi and I left Villafranca before the sun even considered rising, walking faster than we ever had towards the mountains. Moving through the dark at that hour is magical: the air feels alive, the streets are silent, and the only visible stretch is the path illuminated by our footsteps. We passed through Pereje, where a fellow pilgrim was heading back to Villafranca, clearly having forgotten something. I could relate...read more.
Galicia feels like paradise, and we ended up covering nearly two stages in one day to avoid another scorching afternoon. A few of us left together in darkness, the fog so thick that our headlamps barely lit the path immediately in front of us. Hiking through the forest with fog curling around the trees was a little eerie, but also mesmerizing. Along the way, we stopped at a statue dedicated to pilgrims atop another mountain, its silhouette rising from the shadows like something out of a dream. Two towns passed quietly: Hospital de la Condesa and Padornelo, completely dark and silent, with only passing cars reminding us of the nearby road...read more.
This is the second time I've had to say goodbye to people I had grown close to. It feels surreal to think that we are almost at the end: only three more days until Santiago. Today we parted ways with our group. Louis pushed on, completing two stages in a single day, while Maddy, Cerstin, and Isabelle took it easy and stayed at the previous stage. Mauro and Eileen continued on to Gonzar, and Crissi and I chose to remain in Pontemarion...read more.
Walking through Roman ruins after being reunited with a traveling companion is an experience you don't pass up. Our hosts decided to turn on the lights at 6 a.m., giving everyone a rude awakening and causing minor chaos in the dormitory. We packed up quickly and retraced our steps over the bridge to get back on the Camino. This town wasn't even on the original route anymore, having been relocated to higher ground after a historic flood...read more.
Today was the last official day of walking the Camino Frances in full, and anticipation hung in the air. After nearly 45 kilometers of walking in a single day, we all took a late start. Our first stop was Boente for breakfast, where we hoped for a priestly blessing but settled for the required stamp instead. These stamps are essential for earning the certificate at the end of the journey, and getting two per day has become routine...read more.
I could hardly believe that we had finally reached Santiago. Our destination, which had always seemed so far away, was now in front of us after so many days and miles of walking. The morning began with a torrential downpour that felt like a fan blasting on my face. Maybe it was fitting that the start of our final day would be accompanied by such heavy rain...read more.
A full month had passed since we started this journey back in France, a month that now felt like a different world. We left Santiago de Compostela in the early morning rain, pausing just long enough to steal one final glance at the cathedral over the hills. The streets were mostly empty, and a few early pilgrims were beginning to arrive as we made our way through the plaza and out of the city. It was fitting that the start of this next chapter would be accompanied by rain, quiet, and reflection...read more.
Rain followed me for most of the day, but it didn't bother me at all. In fact, the mist and low-hanging clouds put me in an almost meditative mood. Day four of rain in the mornings and probably only the third day of the Camino with a full day of precipitation didn't dampen my spirits. As long as my shoes stayed dry, I was happy. The goal today was Santa Mariña, about 25 kilometers away, but we weren't in a rush now that we knew we had time to spare...read more.
We decided to combine multiple stages and finish the Camino together. The morning began with an epic sunrise as we left Olveiroa, walking through the mist toward Hospital. Breakfast at a small café gave us time to rest, but shortly after, the choice became clear: Fisterra or Muxía. Mauro joined us, and soon we were hiking through forests and hills, catching our first glimpses of the ocean and the towns of Cee and Corcubión. Along the way, we picked up Anna from Hungary, a new walking companion who would share in our final stretch...read more.
