The Way of St James

On 24 May, 2013, I set out on foot from Pamplona to walk hundreds of kilometres across Northern Spain, following the Christian pilgrimage, El Camino de Santiago de Compostela (The Way of St James), I originally planned to go with a friend, but the Universe conspired to make it a solo escapade. At first I was a bit shaken by that thought, but by the end of Day 1 of my Camino I knew that everything was absolutely perfect. With the exception of my level of fitness… that was a shocker.

On the 27 June, I arrived in Santiago de Compostela after conquering over 500km of paths and roads on foot, and experiencing a rollercoaster of adventures. I had braved cold days (reluctantly), climbed mountains, fallen in pseudo-love with a monk, embraced a new use for feminine hygiene products and battled dense scrub to find a forbidden castle. 

At times disillusioned with the pilgrim tourist culture, I’d also detoured from walking the path to meet a generous, giving family who were more than happy to show me the real Spain; from traditional home-cooked meals, shopping at the markets, kids fetes and foam parties, to a bar crawl in the Barrio Humedo in the heart of Leon.

Did I have a good time? You bet I did!  In hindsight, I loved every minute of it, even the night I was in agony, bawling my eyes out in a bathtub, using my bum to block the plughole.