After walking a short section of Spain’s famous pilgrimage trail, I went immediately into withdrawal. I had completed just less than 100 miles, but when I returned home to the infinite distraction that is modern life—the calls, emails, chores, social commitments, and multitasking at work and home, with alerts and notifications falling like digital hail—I realized how quiet my mind had been during those 10 days.
The saying goes, “It is solved by walking”—“solvitur ambulando” in Latin. Everything is reduced to a rhythm of steps; to greeting fellow pilgrims and locals who usually smile and call out, “Buen Camino!”; the meditation of repetitive motion—going forward, following a trail of yellow arrows and scallop shells through forests, fields, vineyards, and villages along packed dirt, cowpaths, and cobblestones—and pausing for vast views from hilltops and church steeples, resting alongside a babbling creek or on a medieval stone bridge or under a tree drooping with fresh figs. There’s beauty and peace in simplicity, and this journey felt otherworldly, if not time-transcendent. The Camino provides.
The Legend
In 813, a Spanish hermit named Pelayo had visions in a field in northern Spain. Following the path of a star, he found what he believed to be the bones of St. James the Greater, the apostle who was assigned to spread the Christian gospel in Spain. He had returned to Jerusalem, where Herod Agrippa had him beheaded and fed to the dogs. But the story says his followers stole away with the remains, put them in a boat, and set it adrift in the Mediterranean. An angel guided it to northern Spain along the Atlantic Coast, where it sank just offshore. His body was washed up, covered in scallop shells, and his followers there buried him in a field, where the grave was forgotten. Upon the revelation of Pelayo’s discovery, a church was built to hold the holy relics. Pilgrimages soon began.
But the Black Death cast a shadow over Europe, and interest in the pilgrimage died off until the late 20th century. In the 1980s, stories about St. James reemerged, and in 1993, four of the Routes of Santiago de Compostela were listed on the UNESCO list of World Heritage Sites. In 2010, the film “The Way,” starring Martin Sheen as a father retracing his dead son’s steps along the Camino, led to an explosive number of travelers. People from all walks of life and from all over the world sought to make the pilgrimage.
To obtain the Compostela, the official certificate of completion, one needs to have walked at least the last 100 kilometers (62 miles) and obtained stamps in a camino passport to verify that one has walked the journey. About 2,000 pilgrims per day reach the cathedral in Santiago de Compostela during the height of the summer season, while about 1,000 do so in the entire month of January. Portions of the trail in the mountains, especially in the Pyrenees, are closed down in the winter because of the danger of heavy snowfall.
Just as all roads lead to Rome, multiple caminos arrive at Santiago from all directions—the Portugal Route, the Northern Route, and the Via de la Plata, to name a few popular paths. When I set out for the Camino, I opted for the Camino Francés, or the French Way, much as roughly 60 percent of pilgrims do.
How Hard Is It?
Sedentary time spent in front of a computer and the years themselves take their toll on a guy, and I wondered if I was ready. But this was only walking. Whether it’s four miles or 14, it all comes down to putting one foot in front of the other (OFIFOTO), I figured. I may have cursed under my breath at the longest and steepest stretches on the hottest days, but still, I muttered to myself, “OFIFOTO.” Thanks to recommendations, I had a pair of HOKA trail running shoes, not hiking boots, and Darn Tough merino wool blend socks. I didn’t get a single blister.Some love the physical challenge. A thousand years ago, some pilgrims believed in the mortification of the flesh—whether through abstinence, fasting, or even self-flagellation—as a sacrifice to repent for sins. On my journey, I passed an Italian pilgrim rolling an empty wheelchair. His mother had intended to join him on the way but was now bedridden with a health issue; he had brought the wheelchair in her honor.
Just the Walking
Arizona-born Alex Chang came to Spain for a job. When he decided to move back to the States, some time on the Camino was his gift to himself and a farewell to Spain—or so he thought. He fell in love with it and became a guide. After noticing that many travelers would have trouble doing a thru-hike, he founded Fresco Tours.Fresco Tours breaks the Camino into “chapters,” and my journey began with Chapter 1 on the Camino Francés starting at Spain’s border with France. I met with my group of five other pilgrims in Pamplona, Spain, and two guides drove us up into the Pyrenees in the afternoon to start with three miles through a magnificent forest trail with overlooks to the surrounding mountains.
We stayed the first night in a hotel that was once a clergy dormitory and attended a Pilgrims’ Mass for a blessing. Each day, our guides briefed us before each segment about checkpoints, lunch locations, particular challenges, and noteworthy historical sites and gave us a profile of the day’s eight to 14 miles of walking and its elevation changes. When we asked if it was flat or not, our Basque guide Jon liked to say, “It’s as flat as it can be.” (Which is to say, not at all when the route crosses a mountain!)
Other than the agreed-upon picnic lunch and end points, everyone moved at their own pace. At day’s end, the guides took us to the hotel and out for dinner. In addition to the advantage of only having to do the walking and not deal with logistics, the tour provided a van to and from the trail, meaning we could stay two or three nights in the same hotel, returning the next day to where we had left off. That meant less packing and repacking, and more time for washed clothes to dry.
The True Pilgrim?
Trail snobs may insist that authenticity requires doing it all yourself. But Camino walkers do it their way, for their reasons, and according to their abilities.“You get people who come and are doing it, and they are self-proclaimed ‘doing it the right way,’” Mr. Chang said. “I get people who call me and say, ‘Alex, I did the backpack/hostel thing 40 years ago. I’d like to have my own bathroom and a gin and tonic when I’m done.’”
Is it becoming too touristy? Mr. Chang shook his head.
“The Camino is just coming full circle. These little towns and villages you are walking through started to form to provide services for the pilgrims 1,000 years ago. Everybody needed a place to stay. Everybody needed a place to eat. Somebody needed a cobbler or an ironsmith,” Mr. Chang said.
While there are other routes, the Camino Francés is popular for good reasons.
“For me, it ticks so many different boxes,” he said. “You’ve got the spiritual, religious element, the history, you’ve got the architecture, the natural beauty, the legends, the food.”
Along the trail, we stopped at a small tavern for lunch and were served thick, smoky, grilled entrecôte (similar to ribeye), some of the best meat I’ve ever tasted. It was even better than a very reputable steak restaurant we later enjoyed in the town of Viana. I visited wineries, rang the bell of a small church on a hill, soaked my tired feet in a chilly river in Zubiri, and passed among the Rioja’s vineyards. As I walked up the cobblestone road to Pamplona’s historic city gate, my feet graced the same stones a pilgrim trod a millennium ago.
My chapter ended in Logroño in Rioja Province. I did not have two months to complete the route, unfortunately, and those who aren’t retired or on a gap year may also have time constraints. But don’t let that stop you.
As I awaited my flight home in Pamplona, I felt that ache and the longing to continue. I needed to collapse on those cathedral steps and laugh or cry. This camino was not over. It was only paused.
Months later, Mr. Chang sent me an email: “Here’s to a healthy and happy 2024—hope to see you back on the Camino—you’ve got unfinished business!”
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