Lindsay Teychenne is an old soul. He is gentle, kind and someone you feel like you’ve known forever. Conversations go deep quickly with Lindsay – which I love. He encompasses everything you imagine when you hear the word ‘pilgrim’.
I met Lindsay when I first moved to Tasmania in 2019. Wanting to meet ‘my people’, I created a group called “Tasmanians on the Camino”, a group which continues to meet every other month in Hobart. When I arrived at the first meeting, there was Lindsay, waiting, with a coffee in front of him. While Lindsay has moved on – literally! He’s moved to Spain! – he will always be an honorary member of our lovely little group.
If Lindsay’s name sounds familiar, it’s because he was also a founding member of “Camino For Good”, a ‘for profit’ public benefit corporation founded in Tennessee(United States) in 2020. Lindsay, along with the other original founders, worked with support albergues hit hard by COVID travel restrictions. Since inception, Camino For Good have helped 29 albergues with over $74,000 in donations, including Casa Susi. While the group continues to support pilgrims who dream of going to Spain, Lindsay’s work continues in other ways, including becoming a hospitalero.
Here is my interview with Lindsay. Enjoy!
When did you walk the Camino and which route did you walk?
I have now been to Spain three times, and walked different routes each time. So far I have walked the Camino Francés (twice), Camino Del Norte, Via de la Plata, most of the Primitivo and Finisterre-Muxia.
Did you walk solo or with someone else? Were they a friend or a relation?
Such a simple question that has a variety of answers. It seems I started walking by myself, yet with friends I made along the way. I would have to say I walked with friends.
When you initially started, what did you imagine the walk to be like?
The first time I walked I had absolutely no idea what to expect, I didn’t know what an albergue was or what it was going to be like.
Halfway through, what was your primary feeling about your walk?
I didn’t want it to end. It felt like THIS is what my whole life has been leading up to.
If you came across another Pilgrim what were the first two questions, you would ask them?
Where are you from? Why are you walking the Camino?
Lindsay living his best life on the Camino with his Via de la Plata family. With Weibke, Monica and Victor.
Did you do any training beforehand? If so, what did you do?
No walking training but I did drink coffee (LOL!).
What was the one thing you packed that you were glad to have with you?
My bumbag.
What was the one thing you packed that you could have left behind?
My jeans.
Would you walk a Camino again? If yes which route, would you walk and why? If no, why not?
Yes, probably the Via de la Plata again. It wasn’t crowded like reports from other walks. It is like the way people described walking the Frances back before “The Way” movie made it popular. Also, no-one (hospitality people) really speaks English which makes for an interesting social challenge.
Typical Pilgrim meal
Which was your favourite albergue and why?
That’s a tough one really. I suppose I really liked the municipals along the Via de la Plata. Partly because they were low cost, and partly because it was always a mystery as to what level of accommodation and facilities there were. I would arrive and check out what cooking and food storage facilities they had, then get creative about what and where I was going to eat and prepare for the next day.
11. If you’re open to sharing, what did you learn about yourself?
I learnt that I worry too much in advance about what may go wrong but that I always have the resources inside me to deal with whatever is thrown at me.
When you began you walk, what was your motivation to walk the Camino? Physical, spiritual, religious, or other? (This is a question that is asked when getting your Compostela in Santiago.) What about at the end of your walk?
Really I suppose it was to put myself in situations I had never been in, and see if I had what it takes to rise to the situation.
In the modern world, I equate spirituality to mental health. So I say spiritual meaning mental health, with a little bit of physical fitness thrown in.
13. Did you continue walking to Finisterre or Muxia?
I never really saw Finisterre being the end point. For me it was Santiago. Having said that, when someone invited me to walk with them to Finisterre Muxia, I jumped at the opportunity.
If you gave one piece of advice to someone thinking of walking the Camino, what would that be?
It’s funny, that would depend on their age. For someone of my years doing it for the first time, I would say ‘be prepared to come home changed’. I would really have no advice for a person under forty as I have no idea what the Camino would be like for them.
Do you feel the Camino changed you?
Yes, each one I do changes me.
How we all feel, walking the Camino.
How do you feel you brought the Camino home with you?
More tolerant of the foibles of others and more willing to take personal responsibility for everything that life throws at me.
Do you feel your Camino was a pilgrimage, or was it was more of a long-distance walk?
Interesting question. The more discussion I see about what being a pilgrim is (and by extrapolate what a pilgrimage is), the less I actually understand what it is. For me it feels more like a different way to live. I want to say it was a pilgrimage because the other choice is long distance walk but, like I said, I don’t really know what a pilgrimage is in an era when we arrive and leave by plane under a restrictive time frame.
Do you feel the Camino is for everyone? Why or why not?
The ability to walk the Camino implies one has the time, money and health (physical and mental) to undertake it. In essence then it is only those people that are able to bring those things together. So no, not for everyone. If you can get your priorities sorted for all those things yo come together then yes, it is for you. Only you can decide though.
Tara with two of her favourite pilgrims: Sue Swain and Lindsay Teychenne
What would you like to see more, or less (other than less toilet paper) of, on the Camino?
For me it is learning to accept everything as it comes. The more Caminos I do, the less I think needs to be any different to the way it is.
What was your favourite city on your Camino route, and why?
Salamanca because I had a great experience with my newly formed Camino family.
If someone didn’t know what the Camino was or about, what would you tell them (in three sentences or less)?
A walk across Spain where you will be challenged to change your world view and what you think and feel about humanity itself and your place within it.
When faced with an empty nest, Kari decides to spread her own wings. Giving up a job she loves, she sets off to walk across a whole country. A big one.
A contemporary take on an ancient experience, Pilgrim is an entertaining and moving memoir of Kari’s 900km walk to Santiago de Compostela in Spain. In classic pilgrim fashion, she meets and befriends an array of companions along the way, from all walks of life, united by a common sincerity of purpose. Battling through sun and snow, mud and mountains, blisters and bedbugs, her real destination turns out to be “deep peace”.
Initially unsure of the difference between a long walk and a pilgrimage, Kari and her friend, are not sure what to expect as they embark on the Camino de Santiago. Sleeping in hostels and carrying all their belongings on their back takes some getting used to and they are sorely tested by the unrelenting physical challenge of the ‘great trudge’. In the early days they are preoccupied by the external journey.
But soon, like a modern-day Canterbury Tales, Kari and Ali find themselves swept along by a motley band of pilgrims whose stories touch the heart and awaken the soul. Pilgrim brings to life, in vivid detail, the kindness of strangers, the warmth of village hospitality and the sisterhood of the Sturdy Girls. With San Miguel adopted as their patron saint, the Camino becomes filled with beer, laughter and a return to the carefree joy of childhood. There is an unburdening, a sloughing off of the things that don’t matter. Only what counts is left behind.
Pilgrim celebrates communitas, friendship and the resilience of the middle-aged women who keep going when those around them buckle, who bandage the broken, make them dinner and get them back on their feet. Encouraged by the ghosts of pilgrims who have walked the Way for a thousand years, and with no real choice in the matter, she finally slows down, and the pilgrimage becomes a journey to the interior. As she walks her defences are broken down and her heart opens.
On a transformational journey that takes her from the snowy mountains of the Pyrenees, through the dry winelands of Rioja, the mysticism of the Meseta, to the Green farmland of Galicia, a spiritual reawakening occurs. She revels in the utter joy of a frosty sunrise with shadows a hundred meters long, the frogs, and the cuckoo that follows them for miles. The body may be broken but nature has the cure.
Pilgrim is a coming-of-(middle)-age tale. The story is ultimately one of transformation, of rebirth and redemption. Written with warmth and honesty, Pilgrim shows what can happen when we jump off the path we are on and step onto a new one, where nothing looks the same. The question is no longer what do I want to do with the rest of my life? The question is who do I want to be?
My Review:
I listened to the audio version of this book and it was a delight to hear Kari’s voice, telling us about her pilgrimage. As I listened, my own (solo) Camino experience flooded back. As I kept listening, I felt like CAMINO WANDERING had come to life, with Kari’s Study Girls replacing my own Lovelies. The idea made me laugh.
But I have to admit, I wanted MORE. I wanted Kari to go deeper, talk less about the washing and cooking (the logistics) once we got past all that. And, when Kari did go deeper, it was about her relationship with God. (Granted, it is in the Religious Travel category.) As I looked over the Goodreads reviews, someone wrote: “Too twee and too much God.” I kind of agree with that. Yes, it’s about the relationships between women but it’s also about her relationship with God. And that’s fine. It’s just I wasn’t expecting it.
On the relationship front, it was clear who she was pissed off with, who she wanted to spend more time with, and what she found inconvenient, without her blatantly saying who/what. You could tell by her tone. I found that refreshing. Maybe it’s women’s intuition to read between those lines?
But it made me realise, for one thing, why I wrote CAMINO WANDERING as a fiction, rather than a memoir. I could go deeper into the character’s stories without it being my own admissions.
As an empty nester myself, I felt Kari’s longing for her children, but she wouldn’t know as a parent at that stage of life, that the relationship continues – and it evolves – mainly because she didn’t have a relationship with her own parents. Not a good one anyway. She does talk a little about her relationship with her mother and I think that’s the Cruz de Ferro moment for her. Letting go. Forgiveness.
I wanted to know if she’d discovered what was next or if she discovered who she wanted to be…but you don’t really realise that after after you go home. I just thought that would have been discussed more in the epilogue.
Given there will be more books to come, I guess that’s really the answer. I look forward to whatever else STURDY GIRL BOOKS delivers. Overall, it’s a good book. It’s worth reading – or listening to. For me, I’m taking note of her spa idea in the cities for my next Camino!
Note: I gave this book 5 stars when I may have normally given it a 4 star. Carolyn Gillespie is another female Camino author, and she’s been very supportive of my book, so I wanted to give her some props. Especially since it’s hard to sell books as an Indie author!
PLEASE NOTE: Affiliate links were used in this post. I do not promote anything I have not used or experienced myself. All opinions are my own. Please follow our advice at your own risk. By clicking these links allows me to receive a small commission, which in turn keeps the website running – and me writing! For that, I thank you.
After walking the Camino de Santiago solo in 2018 and again with my partner in 2019, I spend a lot of time reflecting on my Camino Wanders. The Camino is a part of me. And it’s true what ‘they’ say – the Camino does not end when you reach Santiago de Compostela.
If you give yourself to the Camino, it gives itself to you.
It’s been four years since I returned home from Spain. I probably would have returned to the Camino again had there not been a pandemic between now and then. I love flying, but I’m hesitant to fly internationally because, for me, I would need to wear a mask for over thirty hours!
But next year, I plan to return. It’s an opportunity to replenish my soul. The long distance walk does that for me. It also allows me to step out of reality for a while and think about my life, what I want, things I want to change, etc.
Reflecting on my journey on the Camino, I’m noting what I want to replicate and what I want to avoid on my next adventure.
Things I loved (or was surprised by) about the Camino.
One thing I absolutely treasure about the Camino is the friends you make.
Pilgrims call these connections your Camino Family. To me, they are closer than family. There are friendships like no other. You skip the small talk and dive right into the deep and meaningful conversations. And I love that. I’m that kind of person. I’d rather talk about some event in my life than talk about the weather. And so I will repeat walking the Camino because of those intense conversations.
My Camino family made me laugh every single day. They made the kilometres go by more quickly with the conversations we had. They made me enjoy what I was seeing, what I was hearing, AND what I was smelling. There were even some days, on the days I wanted to give up, my Camino family helped me keep going – even when I wasn’t walking with them. And in real life now, they are my cheerleaders. The ones I know who will be there for me, no matter what. And every conversation we have, whether it was last week or six months ago, is like picking up and continuing where we left off, like no time has occurred in between.
I love how the Camino simplifies life.
Food, shelter, water, sleep.
You do not have to worry about anything else. The Camino simplifies life. It cuts the noise so you can reflect and be in the moment. And isn’t that what every mental health advocate tells us to do?
But I will admit, reentering the real world is a serious shock to the system, especially when you’ve been walking for fifty days. After my first Camino, I hid out in a hotel room in London for four days. The noise, the people – it was all too much. Instead, I found solitude in a seaside cottage for the following week.
I love the scenery along the Camino.
I never really had Spain on my list of places I ever wanted to travel to, other than to walk the Camino. It’s now one of my favourite places in the world, and spring in Spain is magnificent. When I planned my initial Camino wander in 2018, I chose spring because I wanted to enjoy the wildflowers – and they did not disappoint. It was breathtaking every day. I walked again in spring in 2019 and will again in 2024 (that’s the plan anyway). The weather is cool enough to walk in comfortably and, when the weather turns warmer, you just walk earlier in the day. The diversity, the history, the people – it all adds to the scenery too. There’s always something to absorb and savour.
The distance I walked surprised me. But also how far I’d come.
It often surprised me just how far I’d walked in one day, and how much the scenery changed over that time. One piece of advice I got was to turn around and see how far you’d walked regularly, because you don’t realise how far you’ve walked until you do that. (And believe me, twenty kilometres is nothing until you walk it.) I guess that’s an excellent lesson in life, too.
I love how much the Camino affected my life.
It didn’t happen right away. It wasn’t until after the second Camino (the following year) that I finally felt the effects. I knew I needed to change something in my life. That what I was doing wasn’t working. But I was afraid to take another enormous leap in my life. I’d already leapt several times. I had moved overseas (twice), left a corporate job to become a photographer and I had donated all of my worlds possession to travel full time. And I had left my husband to travel on my own at 48…
During our conversation about life plans, my Camino sister asked me if I was happy during my first Camino wander. When we talked about what I wanted to do with my life, I couldn’t answer the question. Not really. But, once home and I found a place to settle, the Camino magic happened. I began to write. And write. And write. And when I had my first novel finished, I knew what I should have been doing along. Finally, I was happy.
4 Things I didn’t like so much about the Camino.
Past Sarria, the vibe changed.
The pilgrim community I had felt prior to Sarria had changed. Instead of smiling and wishing fellow pilgrims a “Buen Camino!”, it was grunts, headphones and bed runs. It wasn’t just on my first Camino either. It saddened me that people seemed to miss the point of the Camino. The Camino had become more of a tourist attraction.
For me, walking the Camino is more than a bucket list item to be checked off, or something to put on the CV. (Yes, people actually include walking the Camino on their resumé.) I know people have time restrictions, or commitments they have to get back to in their ‘real life’. Maybe they’re there to walk a part of the Camino, to see if they like it. All of those are valid reasons, and I’m sure there are a thousand more reasons to walk the last one hundred kilometres.
But if you’re going to experience the Camino, then take the headphones out. Say hello (or wish your fellow pilgrims a ‘Buen Camino!’). Have a conversation with another pilgrim. Book a bed ahead. The point is: be there. Experience it to the full extent. Make the most of the time.
Having to send my pack onwards because of my back injury.
For the first walk, I was determined to carry my pack the entire way. To be a ‘real pilgrim”. But, after throwing my back out in Burgos, I was told by the osteopath that I needed to send my pack on, at least for a week, if I ever wanted to reach Santiago.
By doing that, I lost some flexibility with where to stay, sometimes pushing myself further than what was comfortable.
I also learned I was carrying too much and, by the end, I finally understood what I really needed.
As I plan for the next walk in 2024, I will send my pack on, particularly on the challenging days. I am still a ‘real pilgrim’ by doing so. (What is a ‘real pilgrim’ anyway?!)
After discovering I have cervical spondylosis, I can’t strain my neck too much. Which means walking over mountains with 8kg on my back is not a smart thing to do anymore. And, if people want to judge me, then judge away.
You never know someone else’s story unless you ask.
The tightly bounded Camino families.
By two-thirds along the Camino, people already had their Camino families sorted, and in 2018, mine had moved on because of my slow pace. I felt like an outsider later on because groups had already formed, and didn’t want to include anyone else in their Camino Families. But, given some injuries and health issues I experienced, I pushed my way in when I needed to; I have to admit, but there were days when I walked alone when I would have given anything for some conversation.
On my second wander in 2019, walking with my husband, I found it strange that people weren’t open to walking with us. Someone told us they didn’t want to intrude. I laugh with my response: Please, intrude away! We love walking with others.
I think my attitude and saying that resulted from my first Camino experience – if someone was walking alone, I would ask if they wanted to walk with us. Some did. Some said they were enjoying the alone time. And I do respect that. I had a few of those days myself. But I didn’t want people walking on their own if they didn’t want to be.
Sometimes, you don’t know when you need conversation to keep you going. Sometimes the conversation is exactly what you need.
Lack of variety with Pilgrim meals.
Pork or Chicken. It’s like sitting in the back of the plane and finding out what you really want is no longer available. Not being able to eat a lot of pork, I often looked for other options. Cities were great for experiencing regional foods, like pintxo or pulpo, for example. But you have limited options in between. By opting for the vegetarian option, you get to enjoy a broader selection of dishes like salads, grilled vegetables, and pasta instead of just dry pork.
The Crackpot Writer is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.
4 Things I Learned About Myself after two Camino wanders.
My middle name is Perseverance.
In 2018, while I was walking the Camino, a friend from work messaged me and said that if perseverance was in the dictionary, my name would be beside it. I loved that. It kept me going on some of the harder days!
When there is a goal to be accomplished, I kick ass. Slow and Steady wins every time. No matter the obstacles, I keep the goals small and manageable so I can reach the end goal. I mean, shit – I walked over eight hundred kilometres across Spain – twice in two years! Boom!
Laughter is the key to life.
It’s the key to making the time go faster and to enjoy the journey. Even with bad Dad Jokes. Two of my Camino Angels, Jerry and Sharon, told me their goal each day was to make each other laugh. I love that.
I discovered that I am interesting and funny.
When I relax and open up, the one liners flow. Not everyone may appreciate my sense of humour, but that’s not important. I appreciate my sense of humour and the joy it brings to my life.
I need private time, and I need downtime, which are two very different things.
Both are essential to my well being, and both are necessary to accomplish what I need to do in life. Someone asked me on my initial Camino if I was an introvert because my need to replenish my energy seemed to come from that private downtime. It was shocking to me, knowing I may be. I always thought myself fairly outgoing. Sociable. But the more I thought of it, the more I realised I am only that way in small bursts. Afterwards, I want to curl up and read or write, reaping the rewards of solitude.
For the Camino, I could not have finished the entire journey if I stayed solely in dorm rooms. By staying in private rooms every three or four days, I could rest and sleep. On those days I slept in the dorm rooms, I found I needed time to journal and reflect. Otherwise, the Camino became a blur, and then it truly is just one long walk.
What I will do differently next time
As I plan for my 2024 wander, I am looking back at what I learned logistically as well.
Send my pack forward.
I already know I will send my pack forward. It’s a given for the first two days, from Saint Jean Pied de Port to Roncesvalles. It’s hard enough adjusting to the wander physically that having a day pack helps ease you into walking. But there are other sections as well – walking up to O’Cebreiro, walking up to Cruz de Ferro.
Stay in private rooms every three days.
As I plan out my itinerary, since I’ll be walking with friends this time, I know I need to give myself the opportunity to rest properly, to sleep deeply and to reflect.
Plan out my days. Stay in places I still remember fondly.
I plan on staying in the places that stood out in my mind from both wanders.
-Borda rather than Orisson. Smaller, newer, albergue, with the same setup for the pilgrim dinner (my favourite part!).
-Santo Domingo de la Calzada – stay in a parador.
-Trabadelo – Casa Susi’s. It’s a must stay. Susi has already suggested I have a rest day there. Book me in!
-OCoto – Casa de Los Somoza. It’s a nice hotel to regroup once you start the Sarria to Santiago section.
-Burgos – rest day for 2-3 days. Also, visit Sarah at Ultreia Osteopath for a massage. The woman is the definition of Camino Angel.
-Pamplona for the tapas and the town square experience! A rest day here is a must.
-Zabaldika – Ring the bell. Hear the blessing in your heart.
-Larrasoana. Stay ‘off stage’. This was a lovely spot to do that.
-Roncesvalles – stay in the Monastery. Eat in the hotel, rather than the restaurants the monastery assigns you to. Oh, and if you don’t like fish staring at you before you cut into it, don’t order the fish.
-Samos – it’s worth the detour.
Pack less.
You wash your clothes every day. I’m planning on 7kg with water for the next wander.
Walk slower. Take shorter days.
On the first wander, it took 45 days. The second was 54. I plan on taking longer than that for the third, because both times before I never walked the Meseta. This time I will.
Get a data plan for the entire journey.
Walk the entire Meseta.
I walked only halfway, stopping at Fromista both times. Next time, I plan on walking the entire Camino, the Meseta included, with a few exceptions. I will skip ahead in a few places as I’m allergic to lavender, and I know now where the wild lavender grows.
Learn Spanish.
I know enough Spanish to get by for the Camino, but I’d like to know more than what I already know.
Order vegetarian meals more often as Pilgrim meals.
See above for why
Find hydro opportunities.
After reading Pilgrim by Carolyn Gillespie, I realised that hydro to heal the muscles makes total sense! I use hydrotherapy in my real life, and now I know the same options exist on the Camino. I will plan these into my itinerary.
Post written: September 2023
Did you know that CAMINO WANDERING was inspired by my own Camino Wander?
When I walked my solo Camino in 2018, I was told there was an Australian albergue, almost six hundred kilometres from Saint Jean Pied de Port, and I had to stay there.
When I finally walked in the door at Casa Susi’s, it was like coming home, or staying with an old friend. My stays at Casa Susi are some of my favourite memories from BOTH my Camino wanders – and I’ll be staying there on my next Camino Wander. And the next. And the next. Yes, I’m a fan and if you’ve read CAMINO WANDERING, you may find Casa Susi sounds familiar as there is a whole chapter dedicated to The Lovelies stay at Casa Susi‘s.
But Casa Susi is more than just an albergue -there’s the woman who created the magic that is Casa Susi: Sue Swain. While the dream was hers, Sue now co-runs the albergue with her partner, Fermin (aka pilgrim #30 who walked in the door, right after she opened, and when he returned, he never left).
I’m so excited to share this interview with you. I asked Sue if she’d be interested in doing this interview with me and I thought, maybe she’d respond around December, as it’s currently peak season on the Camino. So I’m touched and honoured that Sue found the time to answer these questions for us.
After this interview, if you want to know more about Sue and her story – and you want to, trust me – you’ll just have to visit Sue and Fermin at Casa Susi yourself!
When did you walk the Camino and which route did you walk?
I walked my first camino May/June 2012, then followed closely by September/October 2012 – both the Camino Francés.
Did you walk solo or with someone else? Were they a friend or a relation?
Solo.
When you initially started, what did you imagine the walk to be like?
I had no idea about the Camino. I read one book which, in all honesty, didn’t paint a great picture of the Camino. The book was called ‘The Year We Seized the Day’. Though, thinking about it now, the naivety was a wonderful way to discover the Camino.
Halfway through, what was your primary feeling about your walk?
My primary thought was ‘when can I leave’?
If you came across another Pilgrim what were the first two questions, you would ask them?
I’d ask their name and which country did they come from.
Sue’s favourite Camino photo – on the Norte
Did you do any training beforehand? If so, what did you do?
One 15 km hike in my local neighbourhood with tins in my backpack 😂
What was the one thing you packed that you were glad to have with you?
Ear plugs!
What was the one thing you packed that you could have left behind?
Actually I was incredibly happy with my packing considering I’d never backpacked before. One thing I did do was remove all the labels from my clothing. It’s surprising how much they weigh!
Would you walk a Camino again? If yes which route, would you walk and why? If no, why not?
I’ve walked over eleven Camino’s between 2012-2015!
(Tara’s note: Sue now lives on the Camino Francés.)
First arrival in Santiago 2012 with pilgrims I met on day 0 in Saint Jean Pied de Port!
Which was your favourite albergue and why?
Albergue Verde in Hospital de Orbigo. The atmosphere of the place and communal dinner was fantastic. It’s a great albergue to relax and meet pilgrims. They also offer yoga.
11. If you’re open to sharing, what did you learn about yourself?
I learnt I was a better person on the Camino. I liked the non-judgement of people walking the Camino. I never cared about what they did in the real world. Just who they were that day. Most pilgrims were stripping away the layers.
When you began you walk, what was your motivation to walk the Camino? Physical, spiritual, religious, or other? (This is a question that is asked when getting your Compostela in Santiago.) What about at the end of your walk?
It was definitely a spiritual walk for me, and it became more apparent the further I walked.
13. Did you continue walking to Finisterre or Muxia?
I walked to Muxia then Finisterra.
Walking from Lordes in France 2014 with my friend from our first camino
If you gave one piece of advice to someone thinking of walking the Camino, what would that be?
Don’t put it off. Stop making excuses and take the first step. The first step is always the hardest.
Do you feel the Camino changed you?
Yes, it definitely changed me, and I feel the best version of me left the Camino.
Outside Casa Susi with pilgrims (and her neighbour).
How do you feel you brought the Camino home with you?
Imagine we are all dressed the same so you don’t preconceive what people have or don’t have. Everyone has a story. We sometimes have to take time to hear it.
Do you feel your Camino was a pilgrimage, or was it was more of a long-distance walk?
I think if was a time of growth and understanding. It was a time to shed layers and to heal. If that is a pilgrimage, then yes, that’s what it was.
Do you feel the Camino is for everyone? Why or why not?
It depends what you are looking for:
If you want a long hike: Yes, but then you don’t get the same experience than if you were doing a pilgrimage.
If you want to relax with a book on your holiday: I don’t suspect it’s for you. Then again I liked the book, beach, cocktail holiday, but the Camino changed my life.
Never say never.
Tara with two of her favourite pilgrims: Susi and Lindsay Teychenne
What would you like to see more, or less (other than less toilet paper) of, on the Camino?
More hospitalero’s having walked the camino to offer guidance to new pilgrims!*
What was your favourite city on your Camino route, and why?
Leon. A city full of charm and Camino history. Easy to walk around and see tourist sites, and be a tourist for a moment before the last stage of your Camino.
If someone didn’t know what the Camino was or about, what would you tell them (in three sentences or less)?
Make your way to Saint Jean Pied de Port with a backpack and the minimum amount of ‘things’ and start following the yellow arrows.
Open your heart and mind and prepare yourself for the biggest adventure of your life.
Also to go with plenty of time!
Susi and her partner, Fermín – Winter on the Camino
Walking 15-25km a day across a country is a little nuts. I mean, why would someone deliberately volunteer to undertake such self-abuse? Ah, but walking the Camino is a magical experience.
I began my first Camino de Santiago in mid-April, 2018, walking the more popular route, the Camino Francés. The path starts in St. Jean Pied de Port in France, and ends in Santiago de Compostela in Spain. It took me 45 days to walk 740km. I confess, I skipped some sections because of mental and/or physical reasons. In my mind, in my heart, I walked the distance. I walked my Camino.
Okay, so carrying a load and trekking fifteen to twenty-five kilometers a day is a bit extreme. Doing it solo as an almost fifty-year-old? Some may have thought I was losing my marbles.
How did I even hear about the Camino?
In the early 2010s, I was living vicariously through travel bloggers who were travelling full time. I worked for a Fortune 500 company in a job I liked, but didn’t love. One of my favourite bloggers at the time was walking the Camino, so I followed her journey. By the time she made it to Santiago, I knew I wanted to walk the Camino at some point, too. I’m not sure what spoke to me about her journey. I’ve revisited her posts since, and admit, I didn’t find them very compelling. It felt kind of like watching a TV show you loved, way back when, but when you view it again, you wonder why you ever wasted so much time. But whatever it was, the Camino idea took hold.
I didn’t know why back then, but I felt the Camino calling me.
There’s a power in the unknown. A power in the desire to test human endurance. And while I’m not one who finds physical challenges enticing, this was different. This was a long-distance walk. Not a marathon. Not a through-hike. This was something I felt I could do, one step at a time.
Besides, deep down, I wanted to prove to myself that I could do it. And I needed the time and space to find out what was truly important to me. The ‘noise’ all around me was doing my head in. Life comes down to the very basics on this Camino pilgrimage: Eat. Sleep. Walk. Repeat.
I needed to carry what I absolutely needed and nothing more. Physically and metaphorically.
It was also a time for me to tap into my own spiritual being. I am not a religious person, but I found the history of the pilgrimage fascinating. From town to town, I sought the solace of cathedrals and churches. They are ancient and beautiful, and the essence of these buildings was unlike anything I’ve experienced in the world. Maybe it was because I was more in touch with that part of myself? I could sit and be still and let the world happen around me, with the need to move or converse. I listened to my inner voice, the one that I’d buried for too long. I contemplated what brought me here and what the future should look like in the surrounding silence.
Knowing so many others had done the same in these centuries-old buildings gave me a sense of peace, and a feeling that I wasn’t alone on his journey. I’m not talking about a connection with God. As I said, I’m not religious. Rather, I’m inclined to listen to the Universe, to Mother Nature, to the opinions of friends, then come to my own conclusions.
As I made my way along the way, I learned to trust the strength of my intuition and to listen to my heart. Without the noise, the drama, the judgements of the world, I could really assess what I wanted from my life. It didn’t come in some kind of ‘ah-ha’ moment. In fact, most of what I learned didn’t come until I’d walked the Camino a second time (in 2019). But I arrived in Santiago in 2018, clearer than I’d ever been before.
It wasn’t easy. I faced some serious challenges.
Walking should be simple. Put one foot in front of the other and follow the yellow arrows (or shells) that mark the way.
Easy, right?
Yes, walking IS simple. But the Camino is not like a normal day-hike, strung together day after day. It’s physically demanding. When you leave Saint Jean Pied de Port, you climb eight kilometres to get three quarters of the way up the mountain to get to your first stop. You can either keep going over the mountain to Roncesvalles, or rest and continue the next day. I chose the latter. But getting over the mountain is just the first challenge. Walking the entire distance, you walk over three mountain ranges.
Your body adapts after about a week, but there are still a lot of challenges ahead. You deal with things like: Descending a hill that’s entirely shale, with cyclists whizzing by. Navigating slippery rocks and squidgy mud that can be silently hazardous. Navigating knee deep snow (if you’re walking early in the season). Dealing with the threat of thunderstorms, deluges of rain, sleet, hail, or even the sun beating down on you (with no shade in sight). Walking along the edge of busy roads. Not seeing another soul for miles, wondering if you’re still on the right path. Dealing with long distances between public toilets – and it’s always a time you really need to go! Finding nothing but closed cafés, when all you want is a hot drink to warm your hands or a place to refill your water bottle.
Despite the challenges, there are plenty of things that keep you going.
There are mornings where the dew clings to the spider webs spun overnight along the fences. Sunrises that will catch your breath they are so breathtakingly beautiful. Mornings where it’s so quiet, the only thing you can hear are the birds tweeting and the sound of your footsteps on the gravel. Walking quiet city streets after a well-deserved rest day. Seeing paddocks of wheat and barley dancing in the breeze. Experience the help from locals when you least expect it. The smell of almond flowers so pungent, that you will stop just to work out where that incredible scent is coming from. And best of all, deep and meaningful conversations with other pilgrims that will keep the kilometres spinning by.
I didn’t realise how mentally challenging the endeavour could be.
One thing the Camino allows for is skipping past the banter, the small talk. You may meet someone for a day and have the most profound conversation of your life. You may walk with someone for a week and feel you’ve known them forever. For all the discussions I had, two questions stood out:
Was I happy as a child – and now as an adult? What did I want to do with the rest of my life?
The latter was buried in a conversation of how brief life can be and the need to take the reins, seize the day. These conversations stayed with me for days, then returned to me again when I arrived in Santiago. Walking the Camino turns off the noise and allows you the time to have the feelings, the ideas, and the memories. But with all of this, it can drain you emotionally and mentally, too.
What I also realised was if I spent too much time alone, my mind went dark. I wasn’t aware of this part of me before the walk. (Which makes for great novels but learning to manage the dark thoughts is another skill altogether.)
This journey can feel like a test.
Many people told me they would have quit after facing just a few of the challenges I encountered on my solo Camino Wander in 2018. At one point, I wondered how many ‘tests’ I would have to endure. Here’s what I faced:
My knee buckled as I boarded the plane from England to France and I was already recovering from a twisted ankle from two weeks prior.
Navigating ankle-deep mud as I walked the Napoleon Route on day two, I banged my knees hard on rocks when I stumbled on the descent.
Party girls caused a ruckus in my hostel in Logrono all night, vomiting in the bathroom at 5 am. (Serves them right). I got up and walking twelve kilometres non-stop, early the next morning, angry, without eating and overtired. (Not good!)
I threw out my back in Burgos. I couldn’t move for three hours. After realising I was alone and needed to save myself, I crawled (almost literally) to an osteopath after the reception desk helped me find one. The osteopath got me walking and back onto the trail after resting for three days. This was the first time I sent my backpack forward.
I lost three toenails. (Losing toenails is not uncommon).
I got the flu, which turned into pneumonia. I kept walking (it must have been walking pneumonia—LOL!), determined to get Cruz de Ferro.
I had an allergic reaction to lavender while walking to El Acebo. Combine that with still recovering from pneumonia, I was forced to take a rest day, then skip a day ahead to avoid more lavender along the trail.
I stayed in a Russian Albergue that had no heat at all. I spent the night shivering, wearing every piece of clothing in my possession.
I was followed by a guy in Leon who spat out lewd remarks at me as I made my way to my hotel during siesta. I wasn’t attacked or anything. It just creeped me out.
There were days I didn’t believe I would make it.
There were days I wanted to keep walking, and days I wanted to quit. But I didn’t. I kept going. I was the Little Blue Engine That Could.
When I reached Santiago, I walked through the last tunnel, trying to ignore the bagpiper blasting his pipes. (I’m not a fan of bagpipes). The last steps of my journey had arrived. When I stood in the Praza do Obradoiro, facing the Cathedral, a pure and emotional moment washed over me.
I was at once relieved and overcome with the reality of my extraordinary accomplishment. Probably more the disbelief that I had I had made it. I cried. No, that’s not true. I sobbed. I had walked across Spain. One step at a time. I may have left Saint Jean Pied de Port in France alone, but I walked into the square in Santiago with my Camino family. If it had not been for those who I walked with, I doubt I would have kept going. Not to mention those who followed my journey online. People lifted me up, kept me distracted from discomfort and pain, and helped me see the strength within me. With their help and my perseverance, I had finally made it to Santiago.
You’ll notice I have used the word ‘wander’ a lot.
Consider me a ‘Slow Stroller’. I am a wanderer. I set out to wander the Camino. I took my time, and I savoured my journey. The ‘wandering’ state of mind helped immensely toward my mental and physical wellbeing. I got to smell the roses, figuratively and physically. It may have been the secret to my finishing the Camino. Well, that and the amazing people I wandered with. Conversations with other pilgrims can make the kilometres whiz by, and it makes the journey a hell of a lot more interesting.
Did the Camino Change Me?
I didn’t see it while I was walking. I was too busy putting one foot in front of the other. But I wondered if the Camino would change me as I walked. It wasn’t until after I left Spain that I noticed not only how it had changed me, but how much it had.
Life had more clarity.
I was calmer.
I learned what I really needed in life – and what I didn’t.
I learned what genuine friendship meant. I met some amazing people whom I am honoured to call friends. They are now my Camino family – and I don’t use the word family lightly in my life.
I let go of some of the emotional burdens I’d been holding on to for way too long.
I met Grant and his son James at the 2023 ‘Australian Friends of the Camino Conference‘ in Melbourne. It was the same day I met James and Leo. The four of them had walked together on their 2022, and it was clear strong bonds were formed between the foursome.
I love this interview with Grant. It shows how different pilgrims are. What they walk in. What they appreciate most while on the Camino. But it’s interesting how most pilgrims learn the same thing about themselves after walking the Camino de Santiago – that walking the Camino somehow brings a sense of calm to our souls. And it’s never when we reach the Cathedral in Santiago de Compostela, but once we return home.
I hope you enjoy Grant’s interview!
When did you walk the Camino and which route did you walk?
April/May 2022 – Camino Francés. Walked from Santiago to Muxia in June 2023.
Did you walk solo or with someone else? Were they a friend or a relation?
With my (then) fifteen-year-old son James (on the Camino Francés). Solo, on the Muxia walk.
When you initially started, what did you imagine the walk to be like?
Sounds terrible, but I thought our walk was going to be a lot harder. Basically we had almost no rain on the entire walk, so we got off pretty easily compared to other pilgrims. We did have to walk the Valcarlos route out of St Jean Pied de Port (SJPDP) due to the heavy snow on the Pyrenees.
As for the experience, we had no idea how far we’d get, or whether we’d even finish. We tried to live day by day as much as possible.
Halfway through, what was your primary feeling about your walk?
James and I had spent quite a bit of time walking with some Danish brothers – Mikal & Mads – and we were having a great time. The thing we missed was a home-cooked meal. They had been craving pasta carbonara, so in Sahagun I went out and got all the ingredients to make one from scratch. We stayed in the albergue that is above the old church there (Iglesia De La Trinidad) and had a great meal together. We didn’t want our Camino to end, but we were also tired from the constant walking (we hadn’t had any days off – and didn’t until Leon).
I’d say, achievement with a tinge of melancholy as we knew we had less time on the Camino as each day passed.
If you came across another Pilgrim what were the first two questions, you would ask them?
Their name and where they were from. I rarely came across the cliché of – “why are you walking a Camino?” – early in any conversation, though it did often get asked eventually. I think that’s because it’s a more personal question and the person asking has to be prepared to answer first. Also, a lot of people don’t know why whilst they’re walking. Even if they do, that reason may be a red herring, the real reason only revealing itself later.
Did you do any training beforehand? If so, what did you do?
We were meant to do Camino in 2020 and I did a lot of leg weights and core training. Then, during lockdown, I did a lot of cabernet and Netflix. I didn’t train too much for our 2022 walk because, until we were actually in Saint Jean Pied de Port, I didn’t really believe it was happening. I was sure something was going to happen and the whole journey would have to be cancelled again.
What was the one thing you packed that you were glad to have with you?
Crocs. It was great to have some super comfortable and light shoes to wear around the albergue or even going out for dinner.
What was the one thing you packed that you could have left behind?
We took two pair of long pants and three shirts. Needed only one pair and two shirts. Oh, and I packed a Moleskin journal. That lasted about three days. I was blogging daily on my phone, so it was superfluous.
Would you walk a Camino again? If yes which route, would you walk and why? If no, why not?
Yes, would love to walk the Frances, but from further up in France, maybe Vezelay. Would also consider the Via de La Plata. I’m also really keen to try something like the Pacific Crest Trail (PCT) in America, a pilgrimage of a different sort.
Which was your favourite albergue and why?
Hornillos Meeting Point. It is new and run by a sister and brother who made us all feel really welcome. There was a tiny old store across the road that sold cold beer and other supplies. We sat and played guitar, and chatted to other pilgrims in the lovely little courtyard. They made us paella and we had a communal dinner with about seven other pilgrims who we just met, and became part of our Camino family from then on.
11. If you’re open to sharing, what did you learn about yourself?
Gratitude for my family, my friends and my life. Someone commented when we were walking that the Camino is almost exclusively for the affluent given the costs and sacrifices involved. Whilst my initial reaction was, “no way!”, when I thought about it, I think they were right. That made me feel incredibly grateful for the opportunity to take my son and spend six weeks in Spain. I was thankful that my partner and family looked after things at home. In some ways a Camino is a very selfish thing to do. But it becomes an incredibly unselfish thing once you are on pilgrimage, and when you return, you have so much more to give to everyone in your life.
When you began you walk, what was your motivation to walk the Camino? Physical, spiritual, religious, or other? (This is a question that is asked when getting your Compostela in Santiago.) What about at the end of your walk?
At the start, for family. I wanted to have an adventure with James before he was too committed to his last years at school, and before he was old enough to not want to spend six weeks in Spain with his dad. He did have a choice; I let him decide if the Camino was something he wanted to do or not.
At the end, I think it was a very personal journey. I’m an atheist, which probably begs the question – why go on a Christian pilgrimage? But I see the history of the Iberian peninsula as much longer than the Christian era, being a whole mix of different influences. The route of the Camino, which has been rerouted endless times for new roads, buildings and the like, roughly follows a pagan route and before that, who knows? Perhaps it was a migration route of some sort. It was also strategic in securing northern Spain. Actually, maybe I did it for historical reasons as well.
13. Did you continue walking to Finisterre or Muxia?
No, though I recently returned from walking from Santiago to Muxia. We walked with James and Leo Sage and the two fifteen-year-old’s told us in no uncertain terms that Santiago was it for walking. In their words, “walking is overrated.”
The Santiago to Muxia leg was beautiful and I highly recommend it if you have the time. Even though Santiago was very busy, this route was relatively quiet. The albergue experience was lovely too. They were small and relatively quiet. We were given pilgrim dinners at each of the albergues that I stayed at which added to a sense of community. When I reached Muxia, I stood on the rocks with two other pilgrims facing the Atlantic Ocean, just yelling at the top of our lungs with joy. One of them turned to me and said they couldn’t remember feeling this happy. It was a great experience.
If you gave one piece of advice to someone thinking of walking the Camino, what would that be?
If you are thinking of it, then you’ll do it, so why not lock in some dates and tell family & friends — or maybe even book a flight right now.
As for practical advice:
Walk in the season that suits you. We walked in Spring and loved the cool. I don’t think I could walk in summer due to the heat and the number of pilgrims.
Get your pack weight down by leaving stuff behind that you don’t need. If you do find you need something, you’ll be able to buy it in Spain.
Wear trail runners. Bushwalking boots are made for carrying heavy loads, not the nimble pack you will have on the Camino.
Do a couple of twenty-five kilometre walks before you go with your gear you’ll walk with, sometimes called a shakedown hike. This is to iron out any potential issues you may have with your gear, but also to help with strength and fitness.
Work out a system for your feet. Some like toe socks (Injinji is the most available brand), some like to put powder of their feet or hiker’s wool, others put Vaseline on their feet. I used toe socks and put Vaseline on my heels and never had any trouble across Spain. James and I walked in Hoka trail runners. He did the laces up once for the whole trip :-} and wore Macpac wool socks. He never had any blisters.
Do you feel the Camino changed you?
Yes. On our return James was far more independent. I joked that he would leave Australia a boy and return a man and to some extent that came true.
For me, I was a lot calmer and accepting of life. A week after our return my mother was rushed to hospital. She ended up spending about 10 weeks there and eventually passed away in September. I was lucky to be there when she did pass away. My mum was such an open and generous person. I think reading our daily blog from the Camino kept her going and out of hospital until our return. My father (who has pancreatic cancer) and my sister relied on me to organise everything after mum passed and they live about five hours from my home. I felt that I could deal with all of that stress with some equanimity.
Not long after my mum passed away, my twenty-year-old daughter was rushed to hospital and was eventually diagnosed with multiple sclerosis. Again, I believe that the Camino has made me resilient and calm to provide the best possible support for her.
Then just before Christmas, my eldest daughter, who was living and studying in Paris, was drugged and assaulted. Again, I was able to stay calm for her, the last thing she needed was a hysterical parent on the other side of the world. The generosity of spirit of the Camino stays with you. We were able to offer her support and get her home safe.
We’re all pilgrims and all have some burden to carry. A true pilgrim offers a helping hand to another in need, and I saw that many times on the Camino.
How do you feel you brought the Camino home with you?
I think about it every day. I think it does give me a sense of equanimity. I rarely feel rushed and if I do I stop and ask whether I’m rushing for me or for someone else. In either case I try to slow down. I also feel a real sense of community with fellow pilgrims and a sense that I have another home in Spain that’s waiting patiently for my return someday soon.
Do you feel your Camino was a pilgrimage, or was it was more of a long-distance walk?
Hmm, tough question. If pilgrimage is about finding out who you are and thinking deeply about your life, then I would say it was a pilgrimage for me.
I could easily see how it could be a five-hundred mile party, though as I witnessed some people doing that very thing.
Do you feel the Camino is for everyone? Why or why not?
It’s open to anyone who is open to it. I’ve talked to people about it and they are honest that it’s not something they have any desire to do. Then there are others who get that little twinkle in their eye when they talk to you about it, and you know they would love it. Let’s face it, some people hate the idea of pain and adversity being part of their annual holidays. For me, pain and adversity are opportunities to learn and to grow. I also think it’s important for your kids to see you struggle with things and watch how you deal with it.
What would you like to see more, or less (other than less toilet paper) of, on the Camino?
More fresh Spanish food instead of the frozen, pre-packaged pizzas, calamari and paella that gets served too regularly.
What was your favourite city on your Camino route, and why?
Pamplona. It has an energy about it that I loved. It’s an easy city to walk around and the little street with the pinchos bars is a great place to meet pilgrims, eat great food and drink great wine. When I walk the Frances again, I’ll stay in Pamplona for two nights. It’s hard though, because if you start in Saint Jean Pied de Port, it’s so early in your Camino and you want to keep moving.
If someone didn’t know what the Camino was or about, what would you tell them (in three sentences or less)?
Pilgrimage across Spain. Disconnect from your computer, devices, work and life. Have an adventure, embrace gratitude and to love yourself and the world.
It’s not a secret that I’ve walked the Camino de Santiago myself. I’ve actually walked the Camino Francés twice. The first time was on my own (at least starting out). The second time was a year later, with my husband. The Camino likes to keep calling you back. And I will, no doubt, respond to its call again.
I was looking through my old journals, taking a look at how I was feeling when I began my own Camino. Prior to walking, I was a bundle of nerves and full of anxiety! Much like how Aubrey was feeling in CAMINO WANDERING.
Before long, the excitement took over. That’s evident in some old posts I wrote for the travel blog I owned at the time. I felt like a fish out of water, but I wanted to swim with the rest of them!
Today, I’m sharing my first journal post. It’s rough, I’ll warn you. But for the most part, it portrays what I was feeling.
Authors Note: I began my solo trek, walking 800km from Saint Jean Pied de Port, France, to Santiago de Compostela in Spain, on April 15th, 2018.
Saint Jean Pied de Port – The beginning point for the Camino Frances.
April 14, 2018: Saint Jean Pied de Port.
I have made it to Saint Jean Pied de Port, France, after flying into Biarritz Airport, from Stansted Airport in England. My knee went out as I climbed the stairs of the plane. Between that and my twisted ankle from Iceland, it’s an interesting start. Just more to add to my anxiety.
I booked the Express Bourricot shuttle from the Biarritz Airport, to the Tourist Office in Saint Jean Pied de Port, as there was a train strike in France the day of my journey. No trains were running between Biarritz and St. Jean. It was very straightforward. The airport shuttle was a life saver. With a few other pilgrims, we loaded up and were delivered to Saint Jean Pied de Port by 7 pm, then directed to the Pilgrim’s Office to get our Pilgrim Credential, before the office closed for the evening.
It has been raining on and off in the area for two weeks. I’m a little worried about how that will go, but it is now clear, so let’s hope it remains that way. The old town of St. Jean is beautiful. Full of cobblestones and history.
I’m eager to wander the village. I need to buy some walking poles from the shop across from the Pilgrim office, and see if I can find a sim card for my iPhone 6s. Wifi is sporadic at best.
I have met some interesting people so far. A true crime writer from the UK. A girl who has finished her walk (walking from another spot in France). A Spaniard who is on his 4th Camino. And a girl from Germany who is waiting for her lost luggage. Interesting, for sure, and all communicating through butchered French, Spanish and English.
My first night looks to be on the top bunk, in a room of seven beds. That will be entertaining… for my roommates AND it will be a miracle if I don’t fall off.
St. Jean Pied de Port.
April 15-16, 2018 St. Jean Pied de Port, France to Roncesvalles, Spain, via Orisson.
It’s taken me two days, but I have made it across the Pyrenees – woohoo!! The views from St Jean Pied de Port to Orisson on my first day were absolutely amazing.
The views since: non-existent. Just like the wifi.
Let me rewind a bit.
Day 1.
Walking to Orisson, 8km upwards, was absolutely gorgeous. The views were postcard-worthy. It was hard walking up the hills so I’m glad to cut it short on the first day to stay in Orisson.
The day was a hard slog for me. I kept stopping to take photos, so it took me longer than most pilgrims, but I decided after the first hill to just take my time. There was no rush. I’d get there eventually. And I did.
Orisson was interesting. I had to wait about an hour after arriving to get my bed. They had a lunchtime rush – it was 1 pm when I arrived) – so it was bustling with tourists and locals alike, all there to enjoy the beautiful views from their outdoor patio. Pilgrims seemed to fill the gaps. After finding my bed in my dorm – a lower bunk, thank god – I showered and (mistakingly) washed my clothes. Not a smart move when it’s pouring rain and little hope things will dry. (Post note: The rain continued all night and my clothes did not dry. I had to carry the wet clothes in a plastic bag to Roncesvalles… you’ll understand more as I continue).
A communal pilgrim meal was very basic but the communal atmosphere was entertaining. I met more pilgrims, including some from Canada, England, Mexico, the U.S., the Phillipines, and even a Kiwi. Happy to find others speaking English, so we exchanged stories. We were all VERY excited to be there. But I’ve got my suspicions about the ‘true crime’ writer. He disappeared from dinner right before we each stood to introduce ourselves. And his story kept changing…
Day 2.
Walking from Orrison to Roncesvalles was brutal. I was in a lower room, under the patio in a dorm room of ten. After a night with a dripping wet wall from all the rain, and consequently being awake most of the night, I woke to fog and rain. It continued all the way to Roncesvalles with wind and even some sleet. I can see how people would get lost, especially in that kind of weather.
Going down the mountain into Roncesvalles, after continuously climbing, was ah… challenging. I missed the “alternate route” sign (due to the weather) and came down the steep way. The Pilgrim Office in St. Jean Pied de Port recommended NOT going that way… oops.
But I can now consider myself a kickass Pellegrina.
I slid on the decline in some the mud. Unfortunately there were rocks beneath. I’m okay but have very sore knees. And now I’m in Roncesvalles, I am tired as f***. But after a shower, some washing completed for me (best 3,50 euros ever!), a pilgrim meal for dinner, 800mg of Ibuprofen, I feel… so ready for bed. I am exhausted. I don’t even think the nattering of the Millenial Spanish Girls (who zoomed by me on the way down and am now sharing a pod with) will bother me. But, I have earplugs to block the snoring and my lovely down blanket. I’m cozy in my pilgrim cocoon.
POST WALK NOTE: I heard about a week later that nine people were rescued from “the mountain” the day I walked from Orrison to Roncesvalles. I can see how that could happen. It was a serious reality check of how dangerous that trek could be but the pilgrims were given the green light to walk the Napoleon route the morning of.
Did you know that CAMINO WANDERING was inspired by my own Camino Wander?
Jerry and his wife, Sharon Boggon, were two of my Camino angels when I walked the Camino Frances, in 2018.
I’m so excited to share my interview with Jerry Everard, who is seriously one of my favourite people. Jerry is a philosopher, historian, writer, musician, and photographer. Oh, and he also has two PhDs. One of them, he humorously claims to have obtained “by accident.”
I almost kept walking past when I heard him say this the first time we met (too intimidating!). I’m glad I didn’t, because Jerry is a true gentleman, and prone to dishing out the occasional “Dad” joke when you least expect it.
Walking the Camino with Jerry and Sharon was one of the best experiences of my life. We laughed across Spain until our faces hurt.
So, grab your favourite beverage and read about Jerry’s captivating Camino experience and insights. I also encourage you to check out his website, The Fog Watch, for more of Jerry’s profound insights on travel from a philosopher/historian perspective.
1. When did you walk the Camino and which route did you walk?
2016, 2018, 2022. I walked the Camino Frances with my wife, Sharon.
2. When you initially started, what did you imagine the walk to be like?
I imagined it to be a long walk in Europe with interesting historical buildings, and a chance to reflect on what my retirement from formal work should look like
3. Halfway through, what was your primary feeling about your walk?
My main feeling was that the Camino is more an amazing community — the world should be more like this.
4. If you came across another Pilgrim what were the first two questions, you would ask them?
How are you? What have you learned so far on the Camino?
5. Did you do any training beforehand? If so, what did you do?
Yes, we walked about 5-10km per day in a nature reserve, for about three months, wearing in our boots/shoes, and the last six weeks with loaded packs.
6. What was the one thing you packed that you were glad to have with you?
My camera — Canon 80D with one zoom lens (Tamron 18-270). It was my 1.5kg Camino burden, but so worth it!
7. What was the one thing you packed that you could have left behind?
On my first Camino I took a solar rechargeable power pack. It was heavy, and I discovered that in full sun it would take about a week to fully recharge. I binned it (interpretation: threw it in the garbage).
8. Would you walk a Camino again? If yes which route, would you walk and why? If no, why not?
Yes definitely — in a heartbeat! Frances route because of the community of pilgrims. The other routes seem to be quite solitary. And yes you can have time to yourself on the Frances, but you can always share a coffee with other pilgrims when you want to.
9. Which was your favourite albergue and why?
Casa Susi in Trabadelo. The hosts Sue and Fermin are warm and generous. She is a fantastic cook for the communal meal (all fresh from their garden) and there are no bunk beds. Oh yes, and the shower rooms are spacious!
10. If you’re open to sharing, what did you learn about yourself?
Sharon and I have been together over 40 years. In many ways we each discovered the person we married re-emerge. I had become quite jaded and cynical at work, and the Camino restored a lot of my faith in humanity. I learned to trust people more, to ask for help (something I still struggle with); and that after 60 I can still do something a bit epic.
11. When you began you walk, what was your motivation to walk the Camino? What about at the end of your walk?
When I began my first Camino, I saw it as an opportunity to take some time out for reflection, that didn’t involve waiting for death in my garden. So perhaps I had a sense that this would be something of a spiritual journey. By the end, I had become pilgrim. The Camino shapes you, reminds you what your better self might look like. By the end it was most definitely a spiritual journey — a journey of the mind for which the vehicle is your feet.
12. Did you continue walking to Finisterre or Muxia?
No, we took the bus. But we will walk it at some point.
13. If you gave one piece of advice to someone thinking of walking the Camino, what would that be?
Train for the Camino — find hills and stairs, but train and train well. It’s not an American through-hike, but it is rugged in parts, and if you have led a sedentary lifestyle you definitely need to train — including training the mind. Above all: you can do this!
14. Do you feel the Camino changed you?
Yes. I became less cynical, more open to others, and I rediscovered my creative self.
15. How do you feel you brought the Camino home with you?
I tried hard and consciously to bring the pilgrim in me back home. That means small things, like treating shop assistants like fellow human beings, using their name, asking if I’ve pronounced it correctly. More broadly, being more open to showing kindness and compassion for others.
16. Do you feel your Camino was a pilgrimage, or was it was more of a long-distance walk?
Definitely a pilgrimage. You don’t have to go seeking great answers, or be religious. The Camino shapes you if you’re open to it, to become your best self, and an opportunity to model that best self before you return to your daily routine.
17. Do you feel the Camino is for everyone? Why or why not?
No, it’s not for everyone. It’s a pilgrimage, not a wilderness hike or a race — if you want those things then there are plenty of good challenging hikes. What makes the Camino different is the inward journey, the community and the sense of purpose.
18. What would you like to see more, or less (other than less toilet paper) of, on the Camino?
More kindness and courtesy (eg bells on bikes), more accommodation, more power-points.
19. What was your favourite city (town or village) on your Camino route, and why?
I think it would be a toss-up between Astorga, Logroño, or perhaps O’ Cebreiro.
20. If someone didn’t know what the Camino was or about, what would you tell them (in three sentences or less)?
The Camino is a purposeful/intentional journey along a medieval pilgrimage route. It is an inner journey undertaken at a human pace. It is a time out of time that can give you an opportunity to remodel your best self before you immerse back into the maelstrom of life.
You can find Jerry’s reflections and insights into the Camino on his website, The Fog Watch. Jerry is a writer, traveller and photographer with an insatiable curiosity about the world. He’s been known to play celtic music on a hardanger fiddle, write blog posts on an ironing board, and turn pens from wood. His first book was about the internet, and he’s had short fiction published in virtual and real worlds, along with the occasional feature news article.
When doing some research about Camino authors, I was surprised to discover the the majority of Camino books are written by men. Someone once said to me that these Camino books are focused on food and their physical woes (usually their feet) – and little else. I laughed at that… until I actually realised it was fairly accurate.
Now I’m not ‘male bashing’ here – not at all. I think it’s great that they’ve written a book and have it out there in the world. That’s no small feat. But I’d like to support the women authors here. Because, it seems, we are the minority in the Camino Author world.
As an Indie author, I know it’s REALLY hard to get the word out about your book. I have heard that traditional publishing houses don’t do a lot of marketing either, unless you’re one of the Top 10 on their list.
So, I’m sharing this list of over 90 books, as an effort to help ALL the women on this list.
It’s time we got the word out more abundantly about our books! And I’m all about women supporting women – just read Camino Wandering as an example! I’m doing what Pam, Georgina or Aubrey would do for each other – lift each other up – and share this list of WOMEN authors of other Camino books.
Most books on this list are memoirs. Others, like mine (Camino Wandering), are fiction based on an actual experience. Then there are others that remind us of the Camino – cookbooks, guidebooks, meditation. There are over 90 books on this list, so enjoy!
Here is the list:
If you’ve read any one of the books on this list and recommend it, please leave that recommendation link (Amazon or Goodreads) in the comments below too.
NOTE: If you are a female author of a book about the Camino de Santiago, no matter what the type of book it is, and you are NOT on this list, please leave a comment below with the title of the book and your author name. I’ll be sure to refresh the list periodically. Until then, your book will remain in the comments.
I was intrigued by Leo’s experience on the Camino as a teen, and asked him if he was interested in doing an interview with me. Leo and another teen had walked with their dads, and they had met while walking the Camino Frances. (More on the other father/son duo later). Leo was keen, but I knew I had to get his dad’s okay first.
In the time between asking the boys, and asking the dad’s permission, I had a better idea. I wanted the dad’s input too, of what it was like to walk with his son’s on this journey.
Little did I know that I would get such a comprehensive and yet vulnerable interview with James, Leo’s dad. It’s a story of love for his son, but also an understanding what James needs himself too.
I’m happy to say, James and I have become friends through this process. Yes, the Camino is still doing its magic, even at home, bringing pilgrims together.
So grab your beverage of choice as this interview is a long one. But I PROMISE you, it’s worth the read.
When did you walk the Camino and which route did you walk?
I walked the Camino Francés in 2019 and 2022. On both occasions I departed from Saint Jean Pied De Port in early Spring.
Did you walk solo or with someone else? Were they a friend or a relation?
In both instances I walked with my son Leo. He was 12 years old in 2019 and 15 in 2022.
When you initially started, what did you imagine the walk to be like?
For my first Camino I tried to keep my imaginings for the journey ahead to a minimum, trying to avoid preconceptions and preserve the experiences for when they happened. I think I was applying a ‘no expectations, no disappointments’ mindset.
My strongest ‘preconceptions’ for that Camino were dominated by the physical aspects of the journey – images of walking on a trail across long open spaces as often seen in blogs and movies. These are what had attracted me so strongly to the Camino.
Imagining the weeks of physical exertions and challenges of this adventure fuelled my sense of elation as we walked up the hill out of SJPDP to start.
I intentionally avoided learning the locations of well-known landmarks – Alto del Perdón, Puente La Reina, the wine fountain, and others, so that they became a wonderful surprise when each revealed themselves as we travelled.
Being a bit of an introvert, it was not my natural tendency to think too much about the human relationship aspects of the Camino beforehand.
On that first Camino I was travelling with my 12-year-old son Leo who was suffering from significant anxiety at the time. This was the primary reason for our journey.
Consequently, as a parent, I could not avoid reflecting that I would be trying to perceive how he was imagining and perceiving our journey, with special consideration of things that would make him feel anxious or unsafe.
Leo was there to experience walking the Camino, complete with its challenges for sure, but I imagined and expected that I would be keeping an eye open for anything that was overly negative for him.
In retrospect it created a bit of a mental cocktail for me, creating thoughts of an adventure that might be equal parts exhilaration and anxiety management simultaneously.
My imaginings for my second Camino were shaped by the knowledge and experiences of my first journey, but there was still plenty to think about. Having already completed one Camino in no way lessened the sense of excitement associated with the unknowns that lay ahead.
My son Leo was a very different travelling companion in 2022. Fifteen, hairier, effectively as strong as an adult and just starting to spread his own wings.
He was also happier, wiser, and mentally more resilient. Since our first Camino he had become confident and independent, often taking off for weekends with his mates with nothing more than a daypack, credit card and phone.
He had also developed a great sense of humour, which is a great enabler when travelling.
I was imagining that Leo would be a more independent travelling companion, spending periods of time ‘doing his own thing’ with people he would meet. As a consequence I was contemplating some time being by myself on the journey which I imagined would make the experience different.
Leo and I were familiar with the pathway we would be walking. However, we also knew that our journey experiences would Probably be shaped more by the people we would meet, our physical and mental states at different places, and the weather. Whilst the pathway would be familiar, everything else would be different.
We understood that our Camino number two experience would be completely different to our first journey, and my imagination was focussed on wondering what might prove to be the most influential things.
We walked our second Camino shortly after the trail opened up after the Covid-19 pandemic, with masks, vaccines and Covid passports very much in the front of our minds. High on our list of wonderings was whether the albergues, towns, and locals we had befriended had been affected, and likewise, whether would this change the trail culture.
Halfway through, what was your primary feeling about your walk?
By the middle of both walks I was totally absorbed by my journey on the Camino. It had become my whole World. I was living very much in the moment and time on the trail had made me oblivious to any thoughts of my everyday life back home.
Similarly, there was still so much of the journey ahead that any thoughts of it ending, and by progression, of the journey home, were also completely absent.
I had an all-prevailing sense of needing to keep moving forward. In part this was probably driven by an acute awareness of where I was relative to my ‘Camino Family’ and a desire to remain in proximity to them.
There was also a simple raw desire to keep moving, as though I could feel every step helping me. My mantra became in movement there is peace – especially on the Meseta.
By the halfway point on both Caminos, I was afflicted by ailments that were threatening my journey. I wasn’t quite thinking that I wouldn’t make it to Santiago, but certainly each was making me very focussed upon each step I was taking and bringing my awareness down to the immediate moment.
If you came across another Pilgrim what were the first two questions, you would ask them?
My first question was invariably ‘Have you seen my son?’ My son Leo was usually out of sight chatting to someone behind or ahead of me in the trail, so I liked to check in every now and then.
In other circumstances, the two questions that tended to be first out were “where are you from?” and “why are you walking the Camino?”
The first question was probably my version of an icebreaker, a way to open a conversation and gauge whether the person was open to talking. It also gave me a potential topic that was not too invasive if it was apparent that the person only wanted a little chit chat.
The second question I guess is at the core of why many people come to the Camino and provides an opportunity for each pilgrim to collect and articulate their thoughts at that time and place. Probably as beneficial and interesting for the person answering as for the person asking.
I certainly found my response to this question evolved as I travelled further along the trail and I had reflected upon it more and more.
Did you do any training beforehand? If so, what did you do?
I prepared quite a bit before travelling on both my journeys. For me the lead-up time was full of positive emotions and something I count within my overall Camino experiences.
The moment of deciding that I was going to Spain shifted my thinking from what-if, to anticipation and triggered my preparations.
Preparing for my journeys both mentally and physically was motivated and empowered by the growing excitement and the approaching departure date.
For my first Camino I continued to read accounts written by pilgrims, and found myself returning to the ones I enjoyed to fuel my anticipation, and to others that I remembered having useful information of a practical nature.
Initially I started to make notes of places of interest, such as albergues that got positive mentions in other’s accounts. However, I soon stopped this as I felt these pre-conceived items might work against the simplicity and spontaneity of the journey I wanted.
In terms of personal fitness, I am a cyclist and I felt my basic cardio and leg strength were sort of OK, but I was aware that hiking uses different muscles. For about 4 months before leaving, I began more specific hiking exercises.
I joined a social hike group, doing one or two walks with them each week, the social aspect keeping me motivated. On a couple of occasions, we challenged ourselves to 50km day hike as short-term objectives to work towards.
About two months out from departure I started walking most days along local trails with a backpack that I gradually made heavier. By the time I departed I was walking around 5-6kms each night with a 10kg pack.
I used these walks to break-in and test my footwear as well.
I accidentally walked a lot of the life out of my hiking boots before my first trip without realising it. This later revealed itself very painfully, mid-way across the Meseta.
For my second Camino I was vacillating between taking boots and trail runners. I eventually bought a pair of each and used my daily walks to put each through their paces. The cost of an extra pair of footwear was a small price to pay to ensure that my feet would remain healthy enough to see me to the end of this special trip.
I trialled my Camino ‘après-hiking’ footwear options on my evening walks as well, to find something I could also hike in should my feet need a break from my primary walking footwear.
Finally, I also targeted some weight loss so that my body would not need to deal with an increased load when carrying a pack. I lost slightly more than the weight of my fully packed backpack on each occasion.
I did not do any focussed mental or spiritual training as part of my preparations.
What was the one thing you packed that you were glad to have with you?
My absolute favourite first Camino item was probably my waterproof shell jacket – I wore that thing nearly every day at some point – protection against the wind, against the early morning cold, and against the rain.
Light, versatile, and quite fashionable, I also wore it on wash days when everything we owned went into a washing machine for a ‘proper wash’ in between all the hand washes, and we wore our wet weather gear as we waited. You can always spot the pilgrims in town on a wash day.
On my second Camino it was a joy to have the correct footwear for my needs. My first Camino footwear choices had been disastrous.
In terms of a discretionary item, I loved my Zpacks FUPA (Front Utility Pouch Accessory) – interesting name but effectively a waterproof utility bag, like a bum bag, that connected to the sternum strap of my backpack. It carried my wallet, passport, guidebook, notebook, pen and telephone, all instantly accessible.
It had a shoulder strap so it stayed with me when I took off my pack, and I hung it in the shower when showering. Having these items protected from the rain and snow, and in such a convenient location, and having their weight carried by my backpack harness rather than on my shoulder made a surprisingly positive difference.
What was the one thing you packed that you could have left behind?
On my first Camino, the list of things that were either bad choices, or were not needed is long. We posted a box of odds and ends home from Burgos and left more in donation boxes in albergues.
Mindful that it may help someone reading this, one ‘fear’ that took me down a rabbit hole and resulted in a few unnecessary items was what to wear in towns and in albergues when not hiking (neat town clothes, sleepwear etc) This was fuelled in part by uncertainty about how often I would be able to wash and dry my clothes.
Curse my mother and her warnings about always having clean underwear ‘just in case’!
I found that ‘trail wear’ is an integral part of Camino town scenery and being a bit grubby is just fine, although perhaps not to the completely stinky PCT hiker standard. Opportunities to wash and dry clothes proved plentiful.
Likewise, dormitory wear proved to be a non-event, limited only by one’s own sense of modesty. Hiking underwear and T shirts being very much the norm.
Some of my ‘spare’ clothing could definitely have been left at home.
On my second Camino, with the benefit of experience and applying lessons learnt, my ‘leave at home’ items came down to just my head torch and a second pair of shorts.
I generally do not walk in hours of darkness requiring a torch. I am quite comfortable walking through the heat of the day, and, as I value my sleep, I purposely do not arise early and disturb the sleep of others.
Consequently, I found that I did not use my head torch on either Camino and that my phone torch was ample for any short illumination tasks. Having said that, in the three years between our journeys technology had halved the weight of head torches so the weight penalty is now small – less than a protein bar.
I took two pairs of shorts and one pair of lightweight long pants, the second shorts being in effect spares (I still hadn’t quite kicked my fears). I found that post-Covid there were far more washing machines and dryers available on the Camino so spare shorts were not really needed.
Leaving those suckers behind will save me a whole 187 grams next time!
Would you walk a Camino again? If yes which route, would you walk and why? If no, why not?
I plan to walk the Camino again, probably multiple times, and at least once by myself.
My final choice of which route will come down to whether I am seeking a journey of solitude and reflection, or one where I can interact and have the company of other pilgrims.
In the case of the former it would be Via de la Plata, a route that is not travelled by many and where the chances of bumping into another pilgrim are few.
The call of the Via de la Plata is strong for me. I like that it travels through parts of Spain with very different terrain, history, and culture than the Camino Frances route.
The Via de la Plata route has plentiful extents of Meseta. I spent some time growing up in South Australia’s hot arid lands and I find the open and exposed Meseta particularly familiar and peaceful.
I also like that it is longer route in both distance and duration.
In the case of wanting a sociable journey, I would gladly walk the Camino Francés again, although perhaps starting in France to increase the duration.
Having walked it twice, I know that the experience of each journey is indeed very different, even on the same route.
In both instances I would finish by spending time in Finisterre to contemplate again.
Same road. Different years.
Which was your favourite albergue and why?
I would probably say Le Refuge Orisson, where we stayed on the first night of our first Camino, was our favourite.
The experience of its evening meal provided a very positive start for our journey. All pilgrims staying at the albergue share a communal meal and each is invited to stand and say a few words about themselves. This shared experience and being able to put a name and some information to the faces we would encounter over the next few days laid the foundation for our wonderful Camino Family.
Reflecting when we arrived in Santiago on that journey, we had initially met well over half of our ‘Camino Family’ on that first night at Le Refuge Orisson.
If you’re open to sharing, what did you learn about yourself?
Often, I accept inferred parameters or ‘rules’ as limits without challenging them. On my second Camino I ‘broke away’ from the stage itinerary of the popular guidebooks and found it very uplifting.
I have filled my everyday world with many things that trigger negative feelings and reactions in me, to the detriment of my personal wellbeing.
Walking long days on the trail is a positive and rewarding activity for me, both mentally and physically. I am capable of far more than I assumed.
I gain far more personal strength, and have far more positive experiences, when I allow myself to be vulnerable and open to others rather than being closed.
I am reluctant to take risks that take me outside of my comfort zone and this self-limits the potential positive experiences I have. In particular, accepting offers of help or kindness from others is challenging for me.
I discovered that I carry with me thoughts and feeling of things I thought long-buried. For, example, I found myself recalling many ‘cringe’ moments – times in my past where I feel I should have acted differently. After Camino number one I found myself contacting people from my past, sometimes decades in my past, and apologising for my behaviour. In many instances the people concerned had no idea what I was talking about and it just became an enjoyable way to have a catch up. Deep down I found myself being more content for having reconciled these within myself.
Turns out that I am not averse to getting a tattoo.
Losing and forgetting things out of my pack is my super power.
When you began you walk, what was your motivation to walk the Camino?
My first Camino was travelled with my young son Leo, who was suffering terribly from the effects of anxiety. We had enrolled him in a new school that year. The journey to the Camino, made as early in the season as we could manage, was an attempt to provide a circuit breaker between a dark past and the hope of a bright future.
School as a place had become associated with pain for him so getting away from all schools for a while was important.
Leo’s particular anxiety was founded in a fear of the World around him, and whether he was safe. He would always check-in with those around him to see if there was anything near him that might cause him harm. Unfamiliar places were naturally a source of heightened concern.
Travelling the Camino was an act of faith. We hoped that what we had heard about it as a positive and supportive environment, was in fact true.
My wife Jennie and I also hoped that Leo would walk the Camino, which would challenge him every day with its lack of certainty about where we would be going and staying, and travelling through a strange new land, and have a positive experience. We hoped that he would learn that the World can be a safe place, and that challenge, uncertainty and new experiences can be a good thing.
I knew that if we completed the Camino, it would also be a significant personal achievement that could demonstrate to him that he was capable of extraordinary things, and that challenges that may appear initially insurmountable, can be overcome.
I also motivated Leo by agreeing that we would get matching tattoos in Santiago if we made it.
Thus, my first Camino motivation was to help my son find personal wellbeing.
Coincidentally, my motivation for walking my second Camino was to consciously seek healing and personal wellbeing also, this time for myself. In late 2021 I had been diagnosed with depression and mental fatigue.
To achieve this, I hoped to draw upon many things the Camino offered:
A long physical journey, having time for contemplation and thought,
Being exposed to a new country, its people, and its culture as a source of different perspectives
Interacting with other people undertaking a similar journey but with different experiences, and
Taking time in both natural and created places of contemplation to simply pause and benefit from moments of silent mental rest.
What about at the end of your walk?
In Santiago my response to THE question was ‘spiritual’ on both occasions, motivated in part by my desire to obtain Compostela, and in part because my reasons could not be neatly pigeonholed.
I found that my motivations for my journeys were unchanged by the time I completed them.
I am glad to say that the first Camino did indeed mark a turning point for Leo’s wellbeing and happiness that was already becoming evident even before we departed Spain.
As for the tattoos? In 2019 it turned out that under Galician law Leo was too young to get one. Happily, Nero the tattoo artist in Santiago, cushioned the disappointment by rendering the tattoo artwork on Leo’s leg as a gift. In 2022 Leo was old enough and we finally did get our matching scallop shell tattoos. Apparently, we needed another one for completing our 2022 journey.
Did you continue walking to Finisterre or Muxia?
We did not walk to Finisterre, but travelled and spent several days there at the completion of our second Camino. I found it to be a very positive and meaningful place to rest and contemplate a completed Camino. A sort of calm Middle Earth between the physical journey and the return to the other world, especially after the crowds and noise of Santiago.
Nothing reinforces that you have reached the end of the physical journey more than having the trail stop at the end of a headland with a wide expanse of ocean in front of you.
If you gave one piece of advice to someone thinking of walking the Camino, what would that be?
I suspect my instinctive first answer to this question will be the same as most.
In the interests of variety, I provide some other fundamental truths I have learned about the Camino:
Plan to depart from Sarria on a Monday if you enjoy contact sports.
The minimum drinking age on the Camino is 18 years, UNLESS you are holding a credit card and order a round for all the pilgrims in the bar.
There is a unique smell in the Galician countryside that no one tells newbies about, and which experienced pilgrims choose to forget.
Gummy Bears are legal tender when bartering with other pilgrims.
Trail shoes filled with snow sludge are not as bad as you might think.
Camino distances are +/- 10%.
The minimum age to get a Camino tattoo is 16 years, except in Leon where it is 14 years, as my son discovered.
If you can feel gravel through the soles of your footwear, try something else.
Listen to and read advice about travelling the Camino, but make up your own mind (but remember trail runners are better than boots!)
Do you feel the Camino changed you?
The Camino has changed me.
With hindsight I realise that my first Camino was very much ‘Leo’s Camino’ and that my focus upon his journey meant I was pre-occupied and not fully open to what the Camino was offering me.
I still came home with a sense of having experienced a place where I could be open and true to self, without the various filters and screens that I often put in place to manage others’ perception of me in my everyday world.
I effectively dusted off my true self and was happy and comfortable with what I re-found after many years of neglect.
I now realise that I did not make a conscious effort to capture, preserve and nurture what I learned on my first Camino. As such, the experience was very positive, but any personal changes were not enduring.
My second Camino had a much more marked and enduring effect upon me. As mentioned, I was motivated by a desire to be open to things that would help me heal and find an enduring sense of wellbeing from depression.
In more plain speak, I wanted a break in a positive place that would help me regain strength, and provide the mental space to identify those things that had led to my depression.
Accordingly, I approached my second journey trying to be more conscious of my thoughts and experiences as I travelled, and more careful to capture what I learned.
To me the Camino provides pilgrims with everything needed to sustain them – food, water, shelter, all with the minimum required effort on their part.
This enables focus upon those things that have been overlooked, and to experience new places and people in a way that is meaningful and enduring.
In this regard I have come to consider the Camino as a haven, or perhaps a womb. A place of sustenance, nurture, and growth.
A recent psychology study has found that humans need around 3 weeks to break a habit. If true, I can certainly see why five weeks walking the Camino provides the opportunity for long-term change.
The Camino gave me the time and the supportive environment to be able to expunge the mental ‘noise’ of my normal life, and to identify those things that had caused me to become unwell.
Ultimately, my second Camino did help me identify and make some valuable changes that have benefitted my everyday life, which I will expand upon later.
Time on the Camino also showed me the importance of making the time in life to do something like the Camino every now and then, in effect to step off the mad bus of life for a few weeks and make sure you are on the right route, before continuing onwards.
My travels on the Camino have changed my also allowed me to discover a love of this type of walking, travelling light, freely and thoughtfully.
How do you feel you brought the Camino home with you?
There are several things about me and my life that have changed since experiencing the Camino.
I am very conscious that the Camino has taught me the value of removing negative things, doing positive things, and doing these meaningfully.
I now value my time and am more discerning about what I try and fit into my life both mentally and physically, removing those things which are not positive.
Since my first Camino I have probably given away half of my belongings so that there is less physical clutter and I can easily find what I need. After all, I only needed 2.5 changes of clothes when living on the Camino.
Since my second Camino, I have virtually ceased following media news, tuning in to commercial television and radio, and using social media. I realised none of these was making a positive contribution to my life, and they were consuming time and emotional energy.
I now practice good ‘psychological hygiene’, carefully discerning between what things I engage in, and what I do not. I realise in retrospect, that I was always quick to have an opinion and engage in topics, even in relation to things that had little bearing upon the important things in my life. I cannot say I was one of the perpetually outraged, but I was certainly impatient and negative about many things that were frankly irrelevant.
Now my wife now describes me as being far more ‘Zen.’
Except when driving in traffic maybe.
Now I find I have time to do the things I value ‘properly’ and meaningfully, rather than just quickly.
I have just finished hand-writing letters to each of my Camino Family in their native languages. For me, a hand written letter is the ‘proper’ way to communicate with close friends and family. I can’t even remember the previous time I took the time required to consider, compose and write a letter (no PC editing) and then take it to the post office to post. Maybe twenty years ago(?). Having now done this I feel far more satisfied that if I had dashed off an email.
I must admit though, translating and writing seven pages of Danish almost broke my will to carry on.
Despite no longer doing many things that I had instinctively jammed into my life before I walked the Camino, I have noticed that the World has not suddenly ended, reaffirming that my involvement in everything around me was perhaps not essential.
I find also that I am now much more willing to be open and engage positively with both friends and strangers. It seems to be due to a unique blend of not being so concerned about what other people think about me, and enjoying the benefits of being positive with others. I now spend far less energy putting up filters and shaping my outward persona to try and influence how others perceive me. Now, just being nice is far easier.
It took a little while to get the balance right. Arriving in Madrid on the way home and unleashing the Camino-utopia-induced smile of friendship at everyone I passed seemed to raise looks of concern from many recipients. Had they encountered the village idiot perhaps? I’ve now dialled it back to an appropriate level and am enjoying the pleasant reactions of those I interact with.
There is a sense of personal strength and contentment that comes from just being me.
Certainly, my mental state is better, although it is still a work in progress.
It is just over a year since my last Camino, and yet I am still conscious of applying what I brought home with me from Spain, and changing because of it.
Do you feel your Camino was a pilgrimage, or was it was more of a long-distance walk?
Some of the elements of the Camino that make it attractive for religious, spiritual, or physical experiences factored within my reasons for walking. However, I feel each of these motivations are singularly too narrow in meaning, or perhaps too prescriptive to be used to describe my journeys.
I feel the two Caminos I have travelled can both be best described as ‘quests for wellbeing.’
Do you feel the Camino is for everyone? Why or why not?
Hard to answer as a generic question. My initial reaction is that the personalised nature of the Camino experience makes it suitable for anyone.
There are practical limitations, such as personal mobility constraints that might limit some, although there are plenty of examples of this being overcome if the desire is there.
It may not be for everyone at any time, but I sense that there will be a time in everyone’s life where the Camino would be a positive experience.
What would you like to see more, or less (other than less toilet paper) of, on the Camino?
There is nothing I would desperately like change about the Camino. Sure, there were many challenges I encountered, and these may have been lessened by more accommodation or amenities, but these did not stop me from completing the Camino.
Needing to use the ‘Camino toilet’ between towns, or having to walk a very long day to find a bed, or asking others for help because we had encountered a problem, I found hard at the time, but ultimately the solutions found to overcome the challenges tended to enhance my journey.
I would go further to say that the ‘imperfections’ of the Camino are the things that indeed makes it ultimately a positive experience for me.
If I really put my mind to it a couple of suggestions would be:
Remove the 100km prescribed minimum distance for Compostela eligibility and provide pilgrims with more diversity of starting place options.
Improve the wayfinding signage for the alternative route out of Leon, I have no strong desire to see Villadangos del Páramo again!
On toilet paper (since you asked)
Toilet paper itself is not something that has imposed itself upon my conscious Camino experience any more than other trailside litter. However, as a topic, it certainly has.
As a pilgrim, I aim to be a respectful guest in other people’s countries and to do no harm as I pass. I have not escaped the need to use toilet paper between towns but have ultimately carried it and deposited it in waste bins.
I have noted that toilet paper and toileting seem to result in some heated ‘un-Camino-like’ exchanges between pilgrims trying to impose their opinions on each other.
While toileting dos and don’ts are prescribed and communicated by authorities for hiking in many wild natural environments, in all my reading and walking I have not yet come across the ‘official’ rules for the Camino.
The few times I have witnessed toilet paper and exposed waste being left trailside it has been by a local going for a short walk between towns. It seemed to be done unself-consciously and as a normal occurrence.
On each occasion I elected not to test my welcome by informing the locals of my foreigner’s approach to the topic – I would have done it in English of course.
Maybe it would be good to have the trail toileting requirements explicitly both defined by the local authorities and communicated.
Good for the local environment and good for the harmony of the Camino community.
What was your favourite city on your Camino route, and why?
This is a tough one as there are several very strong candidates for me – Pamplona, Burgos and Astorga. Each very pretty and welcoming, but ultimately it is the context of our visits that is the deciding factor. It is Astorga.
On both Caminos I have arrived in Astorga with low morale, and on one occasion with feet in dreadful condition. On both occasions Astorga and its people lifted my spirits and helped my journey when I needed it the most.
It is a small city that is easy and quick to move around on foot – which is a blessing for mangled feet. It also means that it is easy to sit at a café and see most of the pilgrims walking through town, which is great for connecting with friends.
It is home to the best hiking shop we found anywhere on the Camino – run by Swiss hiker and mountaineer Rolf and his family who have lived there for 20 years. There was nothing I required, including a new set of hiking footwear suitable for immediate use without breaking in, that it did not have.
We even managed to find a traditional watch maker to repair an old linked watch band, something we could not get repaired in Leon. Predictably in a Camino kind of way, the watchmaker would not take payment. We gave him a kangaroo pin off our backpack as he graciously declined the Vegemite sachets we initially offered.
I have no doubt that Astorga’s location at the end of the Meseta and at the beginning of the mountains, with their promise of natural pathways and trees also created a strong positive emotional response for me.
Just a word of advice for those wishing to have the optimum Astorga experience and considering overnight accommodation in the Plaza de Espana – the Town Hall clock clangs loudly 24 hours a day.
If someone didn’t know what the Camino was or about, what would you tell them (in three sentences or less)?
