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When I walked my first Camino Francés, I thought I'd be listening to podcasts and music all the time.
I soon realised that I much preferred to listen to the sounds and rhythms of nature instead, and to be available to my fellow peregrinos for those magical chats along the Way.
By the time I...
I think it depends on how long you walk.
On my first Camino, it was six weeks in Spain, where the journey evolved from a physical test into an emotional and spiritual flowering.
On my second Camino, it was ten days and I was trying to repair a wounded heart, with some success.
On my third...
Five years ago today, my first Camino came to an end with a symbolic trip to Finisterre, the End of the Earth.
After powering myself across Spain for five weeks, it felt odd to take the coach from Santiago to Finisterre.
We walked the last few kilometres from the town of Fisterra up to the...
This lovely story reminds me of a time when an unlikely group of first responders came together to look after a fellow pilgrim who'd been bitten by something and collapsed in shock at the Spanish Civil War memorial outside Villafranca Montes de Oca.
The kindness of strangers coming together in...
As I walked through Galicia five years ago today, the sense of impending conclusion was growing stronger with each step, with all the range of emotions implied.
Just like when you’re finishing a good and mighty book - the anticipation of journey’s end, a sense of completion and the...
On this day five years ago, I reached the 100km mojone, the marker that told me that journey’s end was drawing near.
But for many on the Camino, their journey had just begun.
Eager new peregrinos were joining us at Sarria, ready to start their walk to Santiago de Compostela.
A moment of...
Only on the Camino could the cost of your accommodation be lower than the cost of your food and drink for the day.
That thought occupied my mind five years ago today, when one of my Camino compadres commented on my frequent OJ purchases along the Way.
I hadn’t thought of it before, but it...
Five years ago today, I was crossing into Galicia for the first time.
That meant cresting O Cebreiro, perhaps the last great hill on the French Way, one more of the dozens of inclines that I had climbed since leaving St-Jean-Pied-de-Port.
Up and down, over and over.
Someone had told me...
After three weeks on the Way, I’d picked up a little more Spanish than I’d begun with.
But I was still stumbling around more than I’d have liked.
Being an Englishman comes with some natural advantages - the prevalence of my language in Western culture makes it easier than it should be to...
If there was one place on the Camino that I was looking forward to seeing, it was Cruz de Ferro.
Camino history had made it a place of great significance and meaning, where pilgrims would find comfort and resolution.
And a touching scene in “The Way” here had moved me greatly.
So arriving...
After all the dramas of the previous two days, what a relief it was to simply strap on my mochilla and walk in peace again.
Knowing we had done “The Right Thing” the night before was one thing, but the unexpected stress had been an unwanted reminder of human behaviour in the “Outside World”...
After The Eamonn Incident, I thought that I’d had all the drama I was likely to encounter on the Camino.
It’s supposed to be a walk of serenity and spirituality, after all.
Instead, after enjoying the glories of Gaudí’s Episcopal Palace at Astorga, and a wonderful evening at Casa las...
Five years ago today, I was well into my third week on the Camino, and entering its most dramatic phase.
I’d anticipated a transition in the character of the Camino, from a physical test of endurance into a more cerebral and spiritual journey.
My chat with Simon from Australia on the...
Five years ago today, I was back in the old routine again and enjoying the long non-winding paths towards Burgos.
It was splendid to be taking it slow, making friends with butterflies rather than running them over.
This was how it was supposed to be.
Reading my blog from a distance of five...
After 17 days on the Camino, I’d hit the halfway point of the French Way, at Sahagún.
I was closer to the end than the beginning.
It was time for a proper rest day, which allowed me time to catch up on my blog posts from the last few days.
And, to prepare for a bipedal approach to the...
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