The beginning

I’m not exactly sure when I first heard about “El Camino”.  I think I had a vague notion of it before coming to Spain, but when I moved to Logroño and worked in Nájera (which are towns directly on the Camino) I started seeing pilgrims all the time.  At first, I was confused as to why there were people dressed in hiking gear, poles and backpacks roaming around the city of Logroño. “Who are these silly tourists?? They look like they’re hiking the Appalachian trail but they’re in a city!”  After a bit, I finally connected the dots and learned a bit about what the Camino actually is. They’re pilgrims!

For those who don’t know about the Camino (or what pilgrims are) here is a nice description from wikipedia:

The Camino de Santiago  known in English as the Way of Saint James among other names, is a network of pilgrims’ ways or pilgrimages leading to the shrine of the apostleSaint James the Great in the cathedral of Santiago de Compostela in Galicia in northwestern Spain, where tradition has it that the remains of the saint are buried. Many follow its routes as a form of spiritual path or retreat for their spiritual growth. It is also popular with hiking and cycling enthusiasts.

Essentially, it’s a long-distance hiking route that passes through all of France and the entirety of Spain and ends in the city of Santiago, in the far west of Spain. It has religious roots (pilgrims have been walking for 1,000’s of years) – but these days, the majority of people do it as a form of adventure/hiking tourism. There is also an element of soul-searching / spirituality that draws many people to the Camino. It’s a chance to spend time alone (and with people), reflect on life, clear your mind, meditate on walking, etc. My motives for doing it are all of the above; I’m constantly soul searching and love to think about things, I also enjoy meeting new people, seeing new places, having adventures and of course hiking. There is no work for English teachers in August, so all signs pointed to doing the Camino.

In November of 2016, I had my first Camino adventure.  I left directly after work from Nájera (La Rioja) on a Thursday and walked for 4 days and nights to Burgos.  The scenery was pleasant and I enjoyed the hours of hiking every day. The Camino was relatively empty, but I met some friendly people along the way and got a nice initial taste of the experience.  On my final day, I remember some fellow pilgrims saying “You can’t leave now, after 4 days is when your body starts to get used to it and things get easier!” At the time, 4 days was plenty for me, but now I realize how true those words were.  Since that initial Camino expedition, I’ve done at least a week’s worth of camino’ing during the subsequent 2 summers, with the most recent being a Irun-Bilbao adventure along the Northern Route that started in France and ended in my apartment in Bilbao. 

I’ve always felt connected to the Camino.  It’s been an omnipotent presence during my Spanish experience; In every place I’ve lived, the Camino has passed by within a few blocks of my apartment.  The yellow arrows are always close (instead of the yellow brick road to OZ, pilgrims follow yellow arrows that lead the way to Santiago). Seeing pilgrims is part of the natural rhythms of my world. The purity, simplicity and beauty of getting up each day and walking to a new destination is something that vibrates with my soul. 

Last year, I had one of the best Camino experiences, doing 7 stages of El Camino Norte from Irun to Bilbao.  One week. France to my apartment in Bilbao. I met people, had adventures, discovered new places, cleared my mind.  Without a doubt, I knew I had to continue the experience, but go deeper. Go all the way. To Santiago. This year it finally happened.  

Casa a Santiago

I read somewhere that the most pure form of pilgrimage is to walk from your house to Santiago.  That’s how the old-fashioned pilgrims did it, right? It makes sense, you live in a place and you simply start walking to get to your destination.  Luckily, I live in Bilbao, one block away from a Camino route, so it makes it really easy to start camino’ing. 

I awake at 5AM.  Bags are packed, coffee is consumed, I’m ready to go.  I’m out the door by 5:30 and I start the Camino adventure.  Am I a pilgrim now? I guess I’m doing the Camino! The city is silent and bathed in darkness.  The summer air is warm and pleasant. I decide to take the mountain route as opposed to the more boring and easy river route.  Arrows are located. I pass the municipal Albergue and expect to run into other pilgrims. No pilgrims are spotted. Solo Camino!  The arrow points left – unexpected! Down a steep mountain, into a forgotten industrial village. I thought I knew Bilbao – the Camino surprises and leads you to undiscovered corners. 

A confusing signpost – yellow arrows pointing in opposite directions!  I consult the map, my phone. There are no other pilgrims around to assist.  I discover there is an alternative route through Balmaseda – “El Camino Olvidado” – the forgotten Camino!  There are so many Caminos to do. Dozens and dozens of Camino experiences. I continue on the beaten path of el Norte. 

Music for motivation.  Following the zig-zag of arrows through the mountains.  The route is definitely not efficient, but that’s not the point.  The metro would have gotten me to Portugalete in 20 minutes, but that would be cheating.  “I know where I am! Ha!” I think to myself as I mentally locate myself. I know this land but I’m seeing it through a different perspective, following a foreign route. 

It’s hot, need pinchos.  Aquarius. Feet are starting to ache so I switch from boots to Choco sandals.  Final 10km are exhausting, but I push through, walking past the Beach in Pobeña and arriving at the municipal albergue – my first experience seeing other pilgrims – it has been 6 hours of silent, solo walking until that point.  

There’s a line of backpacks at the Albergue and a handful of exhausted-looking pilgrims milling about.  No one is talking or smiling. Strange vibes, I think to myself. I add my backpack to the queue (the albergue wasn’t open yet, but people put their backpacks down as a way to form a line – there’s a limited amount of spots).  The Albergue hosts arrive and give us instructions, they start taking our info and stamping our pilgrim passports 1 by 1. They’re welcoming, funny and energetic. The mood improves. Turns out that July 25th, the day I started, is “El día de Santiago” – a holiday celebrating Santiago.  Perfect timing. The city council has given the municipal albergue funds to buy pinchos, vino and additional party supplies. There will be festivities! 

I meet lots of friendly people.  The albergue is essentially a large room packed with 25 bunk beds.  There are 2 bathrooms with 1 shower in each. It’s cozy, but it works.  

As I’m getting out of the shower, I meet an energetic Italian man.  After some chatting, he finds out I just started the Camino and I’m by myself.  “You alone too?! Tomorrow, we go together. Four eyes better than two! Hard see flechas (arrows) in the dark!  Flecha, Flecha, Flecha!! We leave at 6AM!” I agree without hesitation. Sweet, I made a friend and we’re on a team!  I instantly like Frankie (Francesco) and his positive, high energy nature. He’s 62 but looks about 15 years younger. I later find out he cycled professionally in the 80’s, competing in numerous Giros de Italia and continues to be an avid sportsman. 

At 6AM, he’s up and ready – I hurriedly get my things together, pound my coffee fuel that I had prepared the day before and we’re off – one of the first groups to leave.  We walk fast; full of purpose and intention – just the way I like it! There’s still time for quick pictures and moments to enjoy the view – but we’re moving. Momentum. Elevate the heart rate.  The scenery is beautiful; cloudy and rainy but it creates an incredible moody atmosphere. Views of the ocean along the Cantabric coast; looming mountains to our left. Green pastoral scenes. After 7-8 hours of walking and 40km, we arrive in a small village of Hazas and secure our spots in a cozy albergue.  It’s an ambitious second day for me, but at the moment, I’m feeling good. Tired but accomplished. 

Rinse and repeat.  The next day is another early start.  A French pilgrim, Jordan, joins our crew.  He had already hiked for a month through France before entering Spain; mainly sleeping in the wilderness using his bivouac.  Hardcore. Another rainy day, but a light, misting rain. Stunning views of oceans, beaches, mountains. A lot of road walking.  Concrete. Pavement. The knees and feet are feeling it. Blisters are forming. Fun conversation amongst an improvised team of international pilgrims; mainly discussing different insults in our respective languages. 

The day wears on and Jordan gets separated from us. That’s how it goes on the Camino – each pilgrim walks their own path at their own pace. At times, you walk together, at times you separate. The unspoken rules is that unless it’s explicitly agreed on, there are no expectations to walk with people.  Sometimes you chat for 5 minutes and say goodbye, other times you walk for 5 days together. You never know when you will see someone again, so immediacy and living in the moment is essential.

My feet are tired and the blisters are real. I add socks to my chocos to try and ease the pain. Headphones are in, music is going, getting energy from the beats.  The last 5km are brutal; hills and never-ending. The destination is the famous Albergue of Guemes which apparently oozes Camino spirit goodness. Frankie is in the zone, 100m ahead of me with no signs of slowing down. I meet a friendly Dutchman that oozes Camino positive energy and talks about wanting to buy land in Northern Spain to settle down here.  He moves at an incredible pace. I try to keep up, but my body doesn’t permit it. For the final stretch, I put on music, enter machine-mode and just walk. Endorphins are flowing, music is on point and scenery is spectacular. The pain fades away. I realize that the Camino is a drug and I love the way it makes me feel. My legs are on the verge of collapse when we finally arrive in the town of Guemes and enter the mythical albergue – another day of nearly 40km.  It’s only day 2 and the pace is fierce. My feet are throbbing and angry – my body is beaten but my heart is full. 

The Guemes albergue is famous amongst pilgrims on the northern route.  It’s quite large, with the capacity for over 100 pilgrims. It’s run by a gentleman in his 80’s who bears a striking resemblance to Santa Claus.  Every day, the man gives a talk about the albergue and its history, followed by a communal dinner. It’s donation-based, there are no prices given – you pay whatever you want.  The setting is beautiful; rural and remote. The facilities are cozy but pleasant. Before dinner, we all gather in a room (all 65 of us) and Señor Albergue Guemes gives us a detailed explanation of his history, the humble beginnings, his travels around the world, the curiosity and kindness bestowed on him by his parents.  The talk is a bit rambling but nonetheless interesting and impressive that he gives it every day. Everything is translated to English by a Dutchman who does the best job he could, but fumbles at times. I’m relieved I don’t have to do it. The communal dinner is fantastic, we all gather around tables and eat simple yet hearty food.  I sit at a table where I don’t know anyone, but by the end of the meal we’re fast friends. That is life on the Camino. 

The following day is when I realize I can no longer continue with my current pace nor footwear.  My feet are badly blistered due to not using the correct shoes; I brought my hiking shoes; rigid boots that are great for scaling mountains but are complete overkill for walking on concrete which is what most of the northern Camino consists of, especially in Cantabria.  After 15km of walking, followed by a boat ride (official portion of the Camino, it’s legal), I sadly say goodbye to Frankie; we make plans for future adventures and I hope to one day bike to Italy for a reunion and crush some KM’s hiking/biking. I then limp into the Albergue in Santander. The plan has been made; I need to buy different shoes and send my boots back to Bilbao. Lessons learned from the Camino. 

The next day is a zero, no km will be walked.  My feet are severely blistered and every step sends shockwaves of pain through my feet.  However, the rest of my body feels fantastic. No signs of pain in my damaged hip – body is loose and strong.  I stay in Santander with the mission of securing adequate footwear. After visiting 3 stores and trying on dozens of pairs of shoes, I settle on some trail-runners that fit my feet perfectly.  Much better support and breathability than my boots. I spend the day relaxing, breaking in the shoes and reflecting on the journey. One’s sense of time on the Camino becomes warped. It has only been 4 days but it feels like a month has passed; so many adventures lived, people met, feelings felt.  I can’t believe that I’m not even a quarter of the way through the adventure. The rhythm of the Camino feels so natural that you forget what it’s like to be in the default world, to live a non-Camino existence. Get up. Pack bags. Start walking. Hours melt by. Café con leche / tortilla stop. Meet people.  See things. Get to albergue. Feel accomplished. Day is made. Everything else is bonus points. Unpack, shower, relax, eat, socialize. Chill.  That is life on the Camino.

My friend Brian (from California) arrives that evening and will be joining me for a bit of Camino’ing. We both share passions for travel, learning foreign languages, new experiences/people and living life to the fullest.  It’s great to see him and I go to bed excited to begin another chapter of the Camino journey.

Santander a Ribadesella

Brian is a Camino virgin but hopes right into the pilgrim lifestyle and quickly immerses himself in the Camino mindset.  The hours float by as we manically catch each other up on our lives, reminisce about the good ol’ days and giddily talk about future plans.  We exit the city of Santander; the outskirts of cities often get looked down upon – some pilgrims will actually take a bus or train to avoid these parts because they are seen as ‘ugly’.  Brian and I see the beauty in these border zones – the transition areas between city and country. It’s fascinating to see the changes, so small and imperceptible yet profound when you experience them from the ground.  There is always beauty to be found in all types of environments, from urban to industrial to countryside. 

The goal was to start off with an “easy” day to get Brian adjusted to the Camino as well as give me a chance to test my new shoes.  A common theme of the camino is unpredictability and the impossibility to stick to original plans. There are too many variables to allow one to stick to a rigid plan; changing weather, health of feet, availability of albergues.  You never know when you will meet a fellow pilgrim or group of pilgrims that will change your course. Maybe you want to walk slower and chat with them because they are from your favorite country in Europe. Perhaps you are alone and enter machine mode, listening to your favorite techno track and want to crank out KM’s at a bat-out-of-hell pace.  It’s impossible to know.

Anyway, we ended up walking nearly 30km and arrived at a cozy albergue on the outskirts of a forgotten pueblo. Feet are tired, but we’re feeling healthy. We grab dinner with a friendly French couple (Jonathan and Linda) who are doing the Northern route following the Camino Primativo variation starting in Oviedo. We had met them in the albergue that morning and we ended up at the same albergue in the evening – a common occurrence on the Camino.  You see the same faces over and over again and Camino families are formed in the most organic way possible. It just kind of happens. Naturally. Humans moving in tribes across land with the goal of arriving at a destination. Moving community. Instant community. It’s a beautiful thing. 

We eat a delicious dinner.  Brian and I, dutifully fulfilling the stereotype of Americans, order giant burgers.  We scarf them down and at the end of dinner we notice that Linda has food left over. The burgers were filling but walking 30km generates quite a bit of hunger.  Wanting to be polite I don’t immediately ask “Are you going to eat the rest of that?” – but Brian says exactly what I’m thinking and we proceed to divide up the remains of Linda’s food between us.  We all crack up at the fact that Brian and I are being typical Americans, eating burgers and then eating other people’s food. USA! Despite fulfilling some stereotypes, I think we did a good job in disproving others; for example – showing that we are open-minded, tolerant of other cultures, not ignorant about the rest of the world and well traveled.  Many Europeans don’t have a lot of experience with Americans, so it’s important to present a positive image! That’s the beauty of the Camino – you interact with people from all over the world and barriers are broken down. You learn about different cultures, languages and traditions – while at the same time realizing that despite our differences we share the same innate human trains and desires for connection, sharing and community. 

It’s morning. The mornings are the best.  Up before dawn, on the road as the sun goes up.  There is infinite potential. The world is beginning.  Optimism. Energy. Golden hour. Coffee. Unbeatable. 

New strategy; every 30 minutes is a stretch break.  Brian and I can easily chat for hours without stopping but our bodies don’t like that.  It’s important to stop, stretch, check in, make adjustments, drink water, recalibrate. New strategy works well.  The kilometers melt away. Sun! We find our first beach and take a much-deserved cold drink and stretching break.  

It’s 1:30pm and we arrive in the tourist village of Comillas.  Exhausted, tired and hungry. We locate the one albergue in town and to our horror and surprise, it’s full.  After some deep breaths, we talk to the owners who helpfully give us information on alternative places to stay.  As we’re leaving, we meet some other pilgrims who are just arriving and join us as we make our way to the cheap pension house (hotel) in the center of town.  One group is a brother and sister from the Czech Republic (Vendy and V) and a Swiss dude, Siggy. Siggy ends up joining Brian and I in a triple – we ask him if he wants to join and if he doesn’t mind staying with two random guys – “Every night I sleep in an albergue with random people, so how is this any different!”  Good point, Siggy. He’s a great fit to our team and we convert from 2 teammates to 3. We enjoy a menú del dia together and relax in the tourist village, seeing some sites and resting up after the long day. Siggy also has major blister problems, so we compare battle wounds. It’s comforting to know that you aren’t alone in your suffering.  Bonding over blisters. 

Siggy has joined our team and we develop a rhythm.  Make coffee the night before. Pour-over. Diesel. No coffee shops are open at the hour we need to depart (5:30AM).  Energized by coffee, by the sunrise, by the camino energy – we march on. This is the final day in the province of Cantabria – that evening we find shelter in a pueblo on the border of Cantabria and Asturias.  The town isn’t special, but it’s new to us and has a charm. Pilgrims mill about, restock on food supplies, relax with a beer. During the siesta hours (4-6:30pm), the town is dead – an empty space filled with ghosts.  Life returns at about 7PM and we enjoy an evening in a town park, observing the movements of the locals. We snack on meat and bread; siggy strums his guitar and we reflect on the Pilgrim life.  

The days blur together.  We continue to meet people, develop temporary groups.  Awake early, challenge the body to walk for 6 hours, arrive at the shelter, eat well.  Purpose.  

Certain memories stand out. 

• Walking all day in the heat and then realizing a beach was 30 minutes away.  Walking hard to get to beach, stripping down and swimming. So refreshing. Priceless.  Sharing it with Camino friends. 
• Arriving in a random town with a cute little farmers market.  Setting up shop on a bench to rest and having our group slowly grow, as more pilgrims came to join us.  We take off our shoes, stretch our feet, eat food. It feels like a homeless encampment. From the outside, we probably look like dirty vagrants – but from the inside it feels like a family.  
• Walking through the town of “Poo” and taking silly pictures. 

It’s day 7 of Brian’s Camino and we’re in Ribadesella, a picturesque town skirting a river and ocean along the beautiful Asturian coast.  Brian’s journey has come to an end and it’s time for us to split up. By now, we have a mini-group – other pilgrims we know from continuously crossing paths.  Brian is leaving and I feel the need to reset the batteries, to lone-wolf it, to go at my own pace, to listen to what Patrick wants to do.

We say our goodbye’s, knowing that it’s hard to do on the Camino because you’ll never know when you’ll run into friends again later on in the adventure. 

After saying goodbye, I walk out of town and stop for one last coffee by the beach. I’m feeling low energy, lacking in motivation and purpose.  A lull in the spirit of the Camino is expected. Natural. We can’t have high’s without the lows.  I push on.

Lone Wolf

I make it a short day, needing to rest and relax (16km in the world of Camino’ing is a short day). I walk alone, for the first time since departing from home.  I’m the first person to arrive at the Albergue and the owner warmly greets me. He’s a character; originally from Argentina he is full of energy and is incapable of speaking at a normal volume.  He yells instead of talking and constantly sips from his mate (I think he’s over-caffeinated). He makes the same cheesy joke he probably makes to everyone as he fills out the registration form to get me checked in: “Nombre? Edad? Sexo? Muy poco en el camino, BAJAJAJAJ!” I settle in to the Albergue, laying down for a mini-nap and chuckle to myself as I hear the Argentinian give the same intro to each pilgrim, yelling in his silly Argentinian accent  “LAS DUCHAS AQUI, LOS BANOS AQUI, LAS CAMAS AQUI!” It’s a nice day of relaxing and reflecting. I chat with some fellow pilgrims but mostly see new faces. Due to differences in rhythms and pace, it’s normal to arrive at an albergue and not recognize anyone. I slowed down a bit, so I was meeting a previous “wave” of pilgrims – who were a day behind me, but caught up due to my shorter day.  It’s a unique concept – to become anonymous and restart on the camino, one just needs to slow down or not move for a day – then a completely new wave will arrive. New people, new experiences. 

I make food.  Eating on the camino becomes a ritual.  Your body craves food and you need to feed it.  Hiking 30km a day gives you the next level of hunger and makes the food taste even better.  Everyone has their own techniques for eating; going to el menú del dia, making sandwiches, cooking, eating fruit, snacking.  My strategy is a mix of everything. If I’m with a fun group and we want to be social, a menú del dia is perfect. It’s a big lunch; 2 courses, dessert and wine or water.  Making sandwiches is another option; cost-efficient and relatively easy (no cooking required). If the albergue has a kitchen, it’s nice to make some hot food. My preferred dish is what I like to call “Camino-Slop”.  It consists of a grain (rice, quinoa, couscous), a protein from a can (beans, garbanzos, tuna) and maybe some vegetables from a can. Use of a bouillon cube, olive oil and spices (I brought small baggies of powdered garlic, lots of different curries, and herbs) is encouraged to add flavor. Easy, quick and surprisingly delicious (especially after a long walk).  Fruit, vegetables and nuts also make great snacks. 

The next day, I’m feeling better, yet still a bit lost and unmotivated.  I’m up early and walk alone in the dark. In an attempt to harness Camino energy and create some endorphins, I put on high-intensity techno music and walk as fast as I can.  It helps. After a few hours of fast-paced walking, I arrive at a pilgrim outpost, a roadside albergue with ample seating and run into some fellow pilgrims, Vendy and V. I stop for a much-needed “con leche” and tortilla.  After a lazy breakfast, I join their group and we walk at a nice and slow pace. After my intense solo walking, a bit of rambling, social, group walking is welcome. Eventually, I reach my albergue; it came highly reviewed and is located deep in the mountains in a tiny village with no stores – only a few houses and a church.  The view and setting is incredible and the hosts are extremely warm and welcoming. After checking in to the immaculate Albergue (only about 12 beds) – the host directs me outside and sets me up with the most comfortable lawn chair on the best spot in the hillside (maximum shade) and hand delivers my beer. Relaxation to the maximum.  Pilgrims slowly arrive and the vibe is fantastic, everyone takes in the beautiful nature, appreciates the scene and the energy is healing. For dinner, the host gives me the great idea to make “arroz a la cubana” which is fried eggs, fried banana (which I’ve never done before, even though I eat bananas all the time), rice and tomatoes. Simple yet delicious. A new trick to add to my book of recipes. 

I have the best night of sleep since departing on the Camino.  The mattress is the perfect level of firmness and all is quiet at night.  There’s nothing like getting a full night of sleep. Rejuvenates body and soul.

I’m up extra early and walk for hours in complete darkness.  The terrain is hilly and the trail is dirt. I’m approaching the beachside city of Gijón – the sunrise is timed perfectly with my arrival at the city beach.  The sun illuminates the shore and warms my face as I continue my intense pace. I’m on the edge of the city when I make my first pincho stop. The key is to get in hours, get in kilometers before stopping.  It’s time and steps. Move, move, move.  

I push onwards; the afternoon sun is beginning to show it’s powerful face. The final 8 kilometers are a brutal slog through the outskirts of Aviles. Industrial, concrete and exposed. I now understand why some pilgrims decided to skip this portion and hop on a bus. I don’t judge them (ok, I do judge them just a tiny bit) – everyone is entitled to walk their own Camino. Personally, I like seeing all the sides of civilization, even the unattractive ones. However, in the moment, I curse the Camino gods for this never-ending concrete wasteland – walking faster and faster to arrive at the destination.

It’s at this point I run into one of the few Americans I’ve met on this journey. He’s an older gentleman, who walks with a limp and has a permanent confused look on his face. He carries 5 watches, has a water bottle dangling from his hiking pole, sports American flag bandannas and stickers and a “Texas A&M” shirt. He stops me to have me take a picture of him praying on a rosary that his grandaughter gets over her stomach flu. All sorts of characters on the Camino.

I finally arrive at the Avilés albergue and see a group of pilgrims that were in the same room as me the night before; I was the first to leave yet they all beat me there! “Que rápido sois!!! You guys are so fast!” I say with a sly grin. Obviously, they had taken the bus. I won’t use the “C” word (cheating) but I would be lying if I didn’t feel quite smug for actually walking it when a lot of people skipped this section. I end up having lunch and dinner with a few of them.  Our group was American, Italian, Spanish and Belgian – as international as it gets. The next day, I’m up early – the plan is to walk 20km and then grab a bus back to Gijón to meet my brothers – and to officially begin the next chapter of the Camino. 

BROS

Rewind to a year ago. After completing a week on the Camino in the summer of 2018, my Camino enthusiasm and inspiration was at maximum volume. During a bi-monthly brother’s video chat, I made a bold declaration: “Next summer, I will walk the Camino from Bilbao to Santiago and you guys should come for a week!” Somehow, this convinced my brothers to make verbal commitments and the wheels were in a motion for a Noonan Brothers Wacky Camino Adventure Experience.

Fast forward to the present day. Tom and Joe meet me mid-Camino. In order to not lose my “wave” of pilgrims, I walk 20km, then hop on a bus to Gijón to meet them at the bus station. The plan is to spend a night there, then early in the morning take a bus to where I left off the previous day and continue walking. I arrive 20 minutes before their bus arrives and scout out a good menú del dia restaurant, knowing that they will be hangry and tired – nothing a delicious meal can’t fix. I pace around the bus station, anxiously waiting for their V.I.P. bus from Bilbao to make its arrival. It finally pulls up! The brothers exit the bus and they both are sporting Camino mustaches – they’ve secretly plotted to grow mustaches without telling me! The Camino mustache brothers are instantly born – future Camino legends.

It’s obviously great to see them. Even though we keep in close contact via whatsapp messages and video chats, there’s nothing like hanging out in person. We proceed to catch up on life, loudly yell at each other and argue about unimportant things – typical behavior for these siblings.

Tom and Joe jump right into the Camino lifestyle. I’m pleasantly surprised to see that they finally have started listening to their wise older brother and followed my strict guidelines on what gear to bring, the importance of packing light, how the Camino works, etc. They’re enthusiastic and natural pilgrims. We walk at a fast pace and loudly banter, joke, make fun of each other and argue. It’s great fun.

After 20km of walking (I wanted to ease them into the Camino) we arrive at the municipal Albergue in the town of Soto de Liuña. I wanted their first night to be a true Camino experience; stay in a big Albergue, meet other pilgrims, live the Camino life.

The Albergue reeks of character and Camino vibes – a giant room with 30 bunk beds, simple kitchen, and a pleasant outdoor area for hanging out and cooking.

We get checked in, locate our bags and start cooking. The menu item of the day is Camino slop – I take the initiative on cooking up a giant batch to feed our hungry bodies. We hungrily chow down on the food and realize that there’s a ton of leftovers. I proceed to offer the slop to any pilgrim near us – despite its curious appearance, it’s quite delicious and I find some grateful pilgrims that take me up on my offer. It’s a fun afternoon; people are cooking, sharing food and chatting. We meet an Australian, a handful of Americans, Spaniards, Italians and Germans. Some of them end up joining our Camino family down the road. The atmosphere is festive, friendly and fun. The pueblo is small but cozy. The weather is perfect. It’s a great way to begin the brother’s chapter of the Camino.

Oh, and of course, I shave a mustache so that I can complete the 3 mustache-kateers Camino brothers trio.

We develop a rhythm. Tom and Joe are on board with my early wakeup style. Rise at 5:45, out the door by 6:15, dosing out premade coffee (“go juice”) to get our fix and excite our neurons for the day of Camino’ing that lies ahead.

Manically chatting/yelling at each other. Bantering. Joking. Non-stop giggles. I show them the Camino customs.

The second night is spent at a sterile Albergue-Hotel that is a nice place to rest and get a good night’s sleep but completely devoid of Camino spirit. It feels more like a fancy hostel/hotel than an authentic albergue. It lacks a common area, no kitchen and is simply not conducive to meeting other pilgrims. It’s a valid option for pilgrims who just want to rest, but for my taste, places like that should only be used a handful of times on your Camino. Nonetheless, it was a good opportunity to show the brothers the difference between a real albergue (oozing camino spirit) and what has now been officially designated a “Joe-tel” (Joe actually enjoyed the lack of socializing, peace/quiet and chance to get a good night sleep).

The days continue onward. Magical pueblos. Beautiful coastlines. Beaches. Bucolic countryside.

After a particularly long day of walking, we arrive at a highly rated municipal albergue in Piñera. It oozes Camino vibes. The space is comfortable and conducive to socializing. There are interesting books, an area to do arts and crafts (paint rocks and faces), a beautiful outdoor area to relax in and a communal dinner. The afternoon activities include people painting rocks/faces, yoga, guitar singalong, an impromptu dance party and a communal dinner. At times, it feels like we’re at a camp in Burning Man.

It’s at this Albergue where our Camino takes a magical twist. The hosts tell us about “El Camino Historico” – an alternative Camino route that is less trafficked and more rural. It’s the original route of the pilgrims – but when a bridge was constructed in Ribadeo, it allowed pilgrims to take a more direct route along the coast. We are sold on El Camino Historico – it sounds more beautiful, authentic, natural and unique. We go to bed with our new plan to arrive at the beachside village of Tapia the next day, and the following day cut down to the Camino Historico.

The final town before diverging onto El Camino Historico is Tapia – a beautiful coastal village. The albergue is extremely basic, but the location is stunning – right along the cliffs, overlooking the ocean. We enjoy the afternoon at the beach; reading, swimming and hanging out with the pilgrim family that is slowly forming.

The next day is when we go “off-Camino”. We follow a vague trail down the bay to connect with Vegadeo, the first town along El Camino Historico. The Albergue is clean, welcoming and filled with authentic Camino-energy. The host, Lillian, is brimming with positive vibes and enthusiasm for the Camino. We have the idea to make a classic American breakfast of pancakes, bacon and eggs – she is completely supportive of this idea. We end up creating one of the most epic breakfasts in Camino history (well, my Camino history) – luckily finding authentic maple syrup, mixing the pancake batter from scratch and through a team effort, creating a massively delicious, high caloric breakfast of nostalgia!

Another highlight of Vegadeo is Tom getting a haircut and old-fashioned razor shave from a barber shop “de toda la vida” – a super authentic, local, old-timey spot. The man must be in his 80’s and his shop appears to have gone unchanged for the last 50 years. The guy speaks an impossible-to-understand “old man” Spanish but that only makes the experience more authentic.

In the evening, I try and fix my feet. They hurt. There are deep blisters and it’s painful to walk. We are outside with a handful of Camino friends and as a group, everyone gives their input as to what I should do with my wounded feet. In the end, it’s agreed that the blisters need to be drained – everyone pitches in, bringing needles, medical supplies and moral support. I needle and thread my blisters (an acceptable and necessary practice on the Camino) and I experience instant relief. The next day, my feet are way better. Looking back on this memory, I’m truly greatful for all the moral support and teamwork that the Camino family provided.

Another random reflection – in the Vegadeo albergue, there was a German man who had been camino’ing for 4 years – he had spent the last few months working in the albergue; cooking, cleaning and generally helping out in exchange for housing and a humble salary. It’s definitely an appealing experience to do something like that – immerse yourself in the Camino experience but not as a pilgrim – see the Camino from a different perspective. Contribute to it in a different way. There’s definitely a satisfaction that comes with helping pilgrims, cooking delicious meals, making people happy. It’s something that you can’t put a price on, that no high paying job can replicate. Camino for a year? The seed has been planted. Has a nice ring to it. It could be a documentary!

The next stop on the Camino Historico is “Casa Xica”. This place had come recommended to me a year ago – by friends who I met on last year’s Camino adventure (they continued all the way to Santiago). The walk to arrive is one of the most beautiful sections of the Camino. Completely rural, natural and authentic. Deep Galicia. As we walked through the stunning natural landscape, we knew we had made the correct decision in following this lightly-trafficked Camino alternative.

Casa Xica does not disappoint. There are 12 of us and the majority have spent the last 3-4 nights in the same albergues, so by now, we’re quite comfortable with each other and an organic Camino Family has been formed. That’s the beauty of the Camino – with repeated interactions and day after day of seeing the same people, natural groups and temporary friendships are formed. A tribe, if you will, moving together through the landscape. Casa Xica is a country house that is small yet cozy and comfortable. There are only 12 beds, so the environment is intimate and you can chat with everyone. José takes us on a tour of the property – we see a beautiful field with wild horses, a babbling creek and forests for as far as the eye can see. The afternoon is spent lazing about, the pilgrims write in their journals, chat, enjoy a few beers, take a nap, wander around the farm, etc.

The owner (José) used to live in Madrid, earn a lot of money and have a fast-paced life. He was ready to get married and buy a house, but then lost everything (including the girlfriend) when the crisis hit. His friend invited him to do the Camino to take his mind off the loss – he had never heard of it, but agreed. He loved it and when he discovered that there was a “Camino Historico” he decided to open up an Albergue along this historic route and radically change his lifestyle. In the beginning, people said he was crazy; that no pilgrims would come on this new route, that the Albergue wouldn’t work, etc. But he persisted and after a few years, it’s becoming more and more popular. As the Camino increases in popularity, it becomes more difficult to capture the essence of what the Camino is about. Albergues are operated as businesses and pilgrims are seen as profits to be captured. Gems like Casa Xica remind us that the original spirit of the Camino still exists.

After a week, Joe’s Camino experience has come to an end. We say our goodbyes with the knowledge that there will be more Camino’ing in the future. He’s hooked. We already have plans for future Caminos (there are plenty to do in Spain) as well as Camino-style walks throughout Europe.

The End

Joe has left and we are a few days away from joining the French Camino and then arriving in Santiago. It’s the beginning of the final Camino chapter. The French Camino (El Camino Frances) is the most popular Camino – it starts in France (St. Jean Pie de Port – where I happened to pass through on my bicycle journey) and goes through many historical cities (Pamplona, Logroño, Burgos, Leon) on the way to Santiago. During the summer months it’s very crowded and at times overwhelming. The northern Camino (the one I did) joins the French Camino a few days before Santiago – we mentally prepared ourselves for hoards of people and a much different vibe than what we were used to.

Before rejoining the French Camino, we merge back with the regular Camino Norte (after doing the historic route) and we’re inundated with new pilgrims – people starting their journey to complete the final 120km to Santiago. The vibe is already changing and we were starting to lose the feeling of intimacy that the historic Camino provided.

Despite the change, it’s still a fun experience. We meet new people; a fun group from Sevilla that speak with their hilarious Andaluz accent, ship their bags from albergue to albergue and take a group selfie every 50 meters.

The days melt away and we increase our pace – not wanting to spend too much time on the circus that is the Camino Frances. We fly through it in two days. It’s a noticeable change as we enter the final 50km – tons of new people, pilgrims only doing the final 100km, people not carrying their bags, lots of commercialism (Camino apparel for sale, bars every 200 meters, etc). After the beauty, nature and calm of the majority of the Northern Camino, it’s a bit jarring to experience the final 50km. Nonetheless, we make the best of it. We continue to meet people, appreciate the scenery, push our bodies to the limit and eat delicious food.

A standout memory is the day after the Sobrado Monastery. The previous day I was feeling a bit lethargic, unmotivated and burnt out. A normal moment in every Camino. I wasn’t sure if I needed to be alone or if I wanted to connect with people, couldn’t figure out if I was eating too little or too much, in short – I was discombobulated. Looking back, I realize it was lack of good sleep that was affecting me – because that night, I had the most amazing night of sleep on the entire Camino. It was surprising because the sleeping quarters were cramped and somewhat loud. The beds, however, were extremely solid (wood frames) and comfortable. I was out for 9 hours and felt like a god the next day. Tom and I uncharacteristically took our time getting ready that morning and I made some of the most potent, diesel-pour-over coffee that had ever been produced on any of my Caminos. The sleep and nitro-coffee proved to be a perfect synergy of Camino energy and led to one of the most fun days of Camino’ing. I started off in “machine-mode” – listening to techno and walking at an inhuman rate, with the only goal of acquiring kills (passing other pilgrims). Machine-mode only lasted for about 30 minutes when I ran into a friendly group of Spanish girls and decided to switch my mode to “social Patrick” – I slowed down my pace and had a fun time chatting with new friends for an hour or so. After the first tortilla stop (my body couldn’t handle any more coffee – my heart was palpitating at dangerous levels) – I decided to re-active machine mode. I began to crush kilometers – entering a state of flow and activation of dopamine that felt like I had consumed some unknown white powder in a sketchy Berlin nightclub. The most brilliant idea popped into my brain. I would race myself. Using my trusty Garmin GPS smartwatch, I could time my splits – 2KM was what I had set them at – and try and race myself. It was on. Machine mode to the max. I went into competition mode and proceeded to fly. The first split was 17 minutes for 2km. Very good time, but I knew I could do better. After a hydration and stretching break and entered the race again. Flying. Sweating. I passed other pilgrims as if they were standing still. In my mind, I was ready for the speed walking Olympics. Poles thrusting me forward. Propell. 16:40! I couldn’t believe it! I cheered in joy, left a crazed audio message to my brothers and vowed to beat my time. I knew that my body could do better. I’d been training for this moment for 20 days, I had the most amazing sleep ever, the caffeine and dopamine were still roaring through my veins. It was on. I proceeded to enter the flow state, focused only on bettering my time. Nothing else existed. I was going to push my body to the limit and see if I could achieve success. The final 200 meters were brutal, my legs were burning but I felt no pain. I didn’t dare to loop at my watch until I heard I heard it beep. When it felt like I could go no further and my lungs would burst, I heard the beep. 2km. 16:38. A new record set! I felt like the king of the world. I might as well have one an Olympic medal – I was jumping up and down hooting and hollering. The happiest pilgrim around.

After the intensity of racing myself, I finally arrived in the first village along the French way. I relaxed for a few hours and waited for friends to arrive. I ended up having lunch with the group of Spanish friends and it was one of the best menú del dia meals of the Camino – typical Galician food and delicious ribs – all for only 10 euros! After lunch, I continued onward, not wanting to spend too much time in the overcrowded pueblo. The final 8km of the afternoon flew by and I arrived in the albergue where Tom and some friends had arrived hours earlier. I had done 40km for the day but felt like I could do 15 more. I felt the strongest that I have ever felt on the Camino and there was only one day left to our arrival in Santiago.

I would start the Camino alone and finish it alone. The arrival in Santiago is something that evokes emotion and excitement with any pilgrim. For me, it was more about the journey than the arrival. However, the arrival is symbolic of completing an impressive feat. I tried my best not to put too much hype or anticipation on the arrival; I wanted it to be natural and see what emotions came up.

Tom and I started the day walking together but ended up getting separated. The entrance to Santiago was unimpressive – industrial and filled with lots of commercial enterprises (bars, restaurants, albergues, clothing stands) trying to make money off of pilgrims. There were lots of tourists and unfamiliar faces. We passed what looked like a concentration camp – ugly brick buildings to house pilgrims on the outskirts of town – validating our decision to race through the last 100km and arrive in Santiago.

As we got closer, my excitement increased. I couldn’t believe that this was it. After nearly 25 days of constant walking to a destination, we were finally at that destination. There was excitement in the air.

I entered the historic district of the city and would arrive to the cathedral in 10 minutes. Busy and lots of tourists and pilgrims. Walking.

The arrival! I was struck with the number of people and the circus atmosphere. Tons of tourists and pilgrims alike, everyone taking the obligatory selfie. I took it all in and didn’t really become too emotional, as expected. The place was full of energy and positivity. I found a few friends from the Camino. Photos, high fives. Some friendly Australians offered us some cold beers and we exchanged Camino stories. Eventually, it was time to head to the albergue and meet up with the Camino family.

Five or 6 of us met up for a celebratory meal – we had some drinks and a simple yet hearty meal of tortilla. I realized that the arrival was more symbolic than anything and the most important part of it was spending time with the Camino family; sharing memories, reflections and future plans. We lazily had ice cream, took more cathedral selfie and sadly said our goodbyes. It was a great end to an awesome journey.

Camino Death and Resurrection

The Camino adventure does not end in Santiago. There is more Camino’ing to be done. Many pilgrims continue walking, 90km to the coast to the village of Fisterra (and sometimes Mugía). It had been described to us as a perfect way to end the Camino – much better than the tourist vortex of Santiago. More peaceful, pilgrim friendly and emblematic. Tom and I had planned to continue onward and do this walk. We hadn’t figured out the details – how many nights to stay in Santiago, how long to arrive to Fisterra, etc. The day of the arrival, we made the impromptu plan to continue the momentum and leave the following day. My body felt incredible – the blisters were healed, I was setting personal records, my lungs were powerful. I wanted to continue walking and pushing myself to the limit. However, Tom and our friend Stevie were sick of walking and came up with the idea of renting bikes. We agreed on a plan to spend 2 days to get to Fisterra – they would bike and I would walk. Feeling invincible, I boldly declared that I would walk there in two days – 45km each day. The plan was made and there was no turning back.

I was up early the next morning to begin my “afterparty” camino to Fisterra. I eased into the walk, going at a calm pace and even chatting with a fellow pilgrim that was doing the walk from Santaigo to Fisterra after completing the French way the previous year. Once we encountered the hills, I entered machine mode and began to charge uphill with great passion and ferocity – the only way I know how to attack hills. For me, going slow is not an option. Fast walking is the way I get energy, momentum and dopamine production which quiets my pain receptors and creates a perfect feedback loop of wanting to go even faster. The final element of my machine mode recipe is perfectly pounding techno beats. I came across one of my favorite mixes from my days of raving in San Francisco – a night where I shot photos back in 2014 – the mix includes awesome inspirational quotes set to a perfectly blended and flowing mix of electronic music. I marched to this soundtrack feeling completely intoxicated by the natural drugs that were percolating through my synapses, being reminded what the term “runners high” means and coming to the realization that the key to my happiness and feeling of purpose in life is movement, exercise, converting calories into the physical movement of the body. It’s as simple as that. Move. Your. Body. Every. Day. That’s my natural state and it’s the most desired human condition. I must have looked like a madman as I walked at an erratic pace and waved my arms wildly to the beats. The hours flew by and I had gone 35 kilometers before lunch.

I stopped for a delicious and hearty menú del dia and then proceeded to rest and digest the food for a few hours in a beautiful garden, resting in a hammock. I still had about 15km to go, but was confident in my abilities.

I underestimated the soul-sucking power of the sun. The afternoon heat was brutal and after a few kilometers of the second part of my walk, I no longer felt the same moxie and enthusiasm as I had that morning. I found my most energy-inducing techno mix, but it fell on flat ears. The slog continued onward and it didn’t help that I was alone, it was on a boring road and the sun was brutal.

I arrived 3 hours later, completely spent, struggling to even form complete sentences. I just needed food and sleep. The final count of the day was 49km – a personal record (not only on the Camino but in the life of Patrick) – but I was too exhausted to even appreciate the feat. I vowed to wake up early the next day to avoid the afternoon heat and arrive in Fisterra without melting my insides.

I awake at 4AM. The plan is to get up at 4:45 but my body is alert and ready to go. I am on the road by 4:30 and walked in complete darkness. I can see the stars, the sky is beautiful and clear. I lack my go-juice (morning coffee) and have to dig deep to keep walking. I am completely fixated on the goal of arriving in Fisterra – not interested in chatting with pilgrims (there aren’t any at those hours anyway).

At 7AM I arrive at the first bar. Tortilla, Cafe, recharge batteries. Push onward. Not exactly enjoying the journey but at this point there is no turning back. Only the goal of arrival.

Two hours later, I meet up with Stevie and Tom on their bicycles. They provide much-needed words of encouragement and delivery of supplies. We load up on food and water – knowing that we are entering a 15km stretch with no supplies. I feel confident that I could make it to Fisterra – only 25km to go!

The next 10km are brutal mountain climbs and descents. I am alone but dig deep to accomplish the goal. My body is completely exhausted and starts to fall apart. I consume all the calories I have. All the water. All the Aquarius. Go juice. Music. Chocolate. I consume everything I have, use all the energy tricks in the book, yet I am still struggling to find the will to continue. My blisters are ok, but my legs stop wanting to move. I’ve never experienced fatigue like that. It is pure exhaustion. Turns out, it’s really difficult to walk 50km, sleep very little and then walk 40km the next day. I wanted to find my limit and I was very close to arriving at it.

I push onward. Step by step.

Suddenly, my ankle starts to hurt. Previous to this experiment, I had wondered how far the human body could walk. What would prevent someone from walking 200 km? Would one simply get tired and stop? Would your feet hurt? Turns out, for me, it was my ankle hurting. For no reason. It became very painful and I came to the crushing conclusion that I was not going to make it to Fisterra. I had failed at my goal to walk 90km in two days. I struggled with this realization – my body and my mind were having a meltdown. It was excruciating mentally. I was experiencing the end of the Camino, but at least it was on my terms – sort of. I decided that it would end at the beach of “Cee” – a coastal town about 14 km away from Fisterra. There was no way I was going to push this new injury and then end up paying for it for years. I texted Stevie and Tom, told them my plan and said I’d meet them at the beach.

I hobbled the final few km and approached the beach. Tom recorded my arrival as I symbolically arrived to the shore in my hiking gear, stripped down to my swimsuit and dived into the water. For me, it was the true end of the Camino but only the beginning of my life as a pilgrim. My body was broken, but my soul rejuvenated. Stronger than ever before. I was done walking at that moment. No more Camino….for now. It felt great.

Fisterra was a bit of a disappointment – lots of concrete and cars and filled with unknown pilgrims (most of our family hadn’t joined us). It had the feel of a dirty South American backpacker town. The icing on the cake was visiting the famous lighthouse and seeing tourists take pictures next to the “0.000km” Camino marker (signifying the true end of the camino). Tom and I cracked up a the spectacle – most of the tourists had walked 0.001 km from the parking lot to the sign to take the picture.

The highlight was a full day of rest and a beautiful sunset at the beach.

Tom and I biked back (Stevie had to leave early) in one day. It was nice to get back on a bike and go FAST again. Two more days in Santiago to do tourist activities and get our piece of paper that proves we DID IT (La Compostela).

Another unforgettable adventure in the books.

Final Camino Thoughts

The Camino was a magical experience. It’s the perfect combination of tourism, fitness and community. To me, it’s the ideal “vacation” or experience. It’s better than a vacation. What is a vacation anyway? Going to a beach and laying around? I’d be bored after 45 minutes.

Tourism. You see the countryside. Exploration of new cities. Pueblos that you would never go to if you weren’t doing the Camino. Forests. Bays. Oceans. Beaches. Everything in between. It’s the purest form of adventure, moving your legs and seeing things from the ground. You notice the changes to the land, to the people and to the environment.

Fitness. Your body is pushed to the limit. Suffering happens, but it’s healthy – it makes you stronger. Dopamine is produced, sweat is generated, heart rate is increased and delicious food is consumed. Every day your body is in motion. Mind and spirit are optimized. The day starts off proper. Walking and movement. It’s the most natural form of human existence. We are simply not meant to sit still and rot away. Sitting and inertia is the opposite of the ideal human condition. It has never been so apparent to me how important it is to move. EVERY. DAY. My chronic hip pain completely evaporated during a month of walking 25km per day. We alleviate pain by keeping the body a well-oiled machine. Do what it was intended to do – move your body.

Community. It’s difficult to properly articulate what the communal aspect of the Camino is. Pilgrims are very different; they are all ages, come from different backgrounds, speak different languages and have different customs. Yet, we all share one thing in common; we’re doing the Camino – TOGETHER. People look out for each other, they help one another, they share advice, experiences, feelings, aspirations, hopes and dreams. You see the same people over and over again; repeated, unplanned interactions. You walk with them for hours. You open up. Bonding. It is life on hyper-drive. One day on the Camino with a new friend can be the equivalent of 1 month of friendship. Everything happens more quickly. Before you know it, you have an organically form group of new friends, who look out for each other, share meals, form temporary yet strong connections. Everyone walks their own Camino – but it’s also a shared experience. We all have different starting and ending points – yet we overlap during many moments of time and in those moments, we create communal memories and experiences. It’s a beautiful thing.

It distills life down to the most simple things; activation of the body by physical movement, forming tribes of fellow humans and sharing moments, eating delicious food, the novelty of new places. It is life, simplified: your only job for the day is to walk to the next Albergue. That’s it. You work hard to get there and when you arrive, the day is made. You’ve accomplished something. The box is checked, the item on the list is crossed off. From here on out, it’s bonus points. There’s no guilt for lying around and letting the day idly pass you by. You’ve earned it.