I am now home and safe and was resting for several days. But, now, I am actually tending to several new activities as a consequence of the change that the Camino brought to me. For nearly two months, I was in Europe walking the Camino de Santiago. The Way of Saint James. There are actually many “ways” of Saint James and they all lead to the same place: Santiago de Compostela, Spain. One can walk from Portugal, or France, or Rome or from various points within Spain. Actually, your Camino starts from your home. Mine started in Sylva, North Carolina. I chose to do the most tradition “way”, the Camino Frances. My self-guided walk to Santiago started in the small French town Saint-Jean-Pied-de-Port, France where I crossed the Pyrenees Mountains into Spain.
I had left my home in Sylva on April 29, 2026 and was driven to the local airport in Asheville, NC. I flew into Charlotte, NC and took a 777 jet to Paris. From Paris, one more link would be completed when I landed in Biarritz, France. This was the start of my adventure. I stayed in a nearby town, Bayonne, France, and took the train to Saint-Jean-Pied-de-Port, France the next morning. SJPDP is the starting place of the most tradition Camino and leads over the Pyrenes Mountains into Spain. This part of the Camino follows the route that Napoleon Bonaparte and his army traversed around 1808. War brought them to Spain and war drove them out again. In 1813 the troops of the emperor retreated across the same mountain range.
On May 4th, I walked out of my room, onto the Camino de Santiago and started my walking adventure. Forty-five days later, I walked into Santiago de Compostela, Spain. Most days were spent walking; however, I had to come off the trail a couple times due to slight physical challenges. A turned ankle, for one, and a hip flexor strain pulled me from walking a few days. But I continued on until I had made the ultimate goal.
Each day I would arise about 6am and get on the trail by 6:30. When I was crossing mountains, my day would end around 2 or 3pm. On the more even topography days, I would reach my daily goal before noon. As I entered a town or village, my first priority was to find a bed for the night. I had only booked 3 or 4 days ahead before the trip, so last minute arrivals in the following days were a little chancy. I did not want to be held to a tight schedule in case I needed to pull off the trail earlier in the day. It worked out fine for me. One time, I got to the Albergue that I had chosen and was told they were sold out. But the manager there directed me to another one just up the road and I was able to relax that night in a bunk.
Most Albergue are furnished with bunk beds and I made it my goal to try to always get a lower bunk. Unfortunately, everyone had the same goal. So, I probably “climbed” into bed 8 or 10 times during my journey. The bunks were mostly the same, some looked nicer than others but all had a mattress that was covered with a rubbery material and a pillow with the same. Almost every Albergue issued a plastic wrapped package containing a paper sheet and paper pillowcase. This was a soft paper and turned out to be more comfortable that one would think. (Of course, after an 18-mile walk, I think sandpaper would have been comfortable!)
After a bed was secured and the inescapable backpack was finally removed, it was time to find a meal. In Spain, like other European countries, everything closes at 2PM. This is almost every single business, including restaurants. Somedays, if a meal was not secured by 2pm, snacks would have to serve as lunch. The evening meal would become available sometime between 6 and 8:30pm, when businesses reopened. Lunch usually consisted of a bocadillo or aperitivo. The ubiquitous bocadillo consisted of a crusty Spanish baguette, cut as a sandwich, with Jamón, usually Jamón Serrano, which is a dry ham similar to Prosciutto in Italy. Dressings, salt or pepper, were very seldom offered. When I found aperitivos (appetizers), I enjoyed eating them. Usually, they offered an appetizer skewer and would have olives, meats, cheese, and anchovies. The anchovies were a European white anchovy that bore little semblance to the dreaded anchovy of salads and pizzas in the United States. I actually enjoy the well-known, well-hated US anchovy but the white anchovy was a special treat. It was soft, white, with a tolerable fish flavor and much, much less salt. I partook of this treat every time I found it.
Dinner, sometimes, would be the same thing but usually was a “menu” offering, called a pilgrim menu or a daily menu. These meals would usually cost between €12 – €16. There were three courses and usually 4 or 5 choices per course. The first course was similar to a “starter” but was usually larger in quantity than what the US offers for appetizers. The second would be the main part of the meal and mostly contained meat, usually pork or seafood, and always patatas (potatoes). Drink was your choice of water, juice or wine. The price was all inclusive. Some places would put a bottle of wine on the table. Even when it was just one person. In America a bottle of wine usually costs a minimum of $20.00. This Spanish wine was excellent.
Breakfast, while walking, consisted of “first breakfast” and “second breakfast”. It was my habit to order a café and a pastry for first breakfast. Café was espresso, but they would ask if you wanted an Americano. If you said yes, they would mix water with the espresso. I always took it full strength, but it was only a shot of coffee, and I wanted to “enjoy” my coffee with my food. I found if I ordered a café con leche, the milk made a larger volume to drink with my pastry. Pastries were always fresh baked and typically a croissant or a Napoletano. The latter was a rectangle version of the croissant type pastry with a small dash of chocolate cream baked in, and that is what I always ordered. It was nothing like an American “cream filled” pastry. There was only a small amount of chocolate inside and sometimes a few drawn lines cross the top. This was actually the perfect amount of chocolate without getting over done.
Second breakfast would usually come when I’d walked a few hours and when the café’s started opening or started cooking. The big item was a Spanish tortilla, which is Spain’s potato omelet. They were good and they were filling. The potatoes were thinly sliced and the omelet had a creamy texture. At one stop, I stood behind watching through a kitchen door one morning while the guy made one of these. I hoped to be able to duplicate it.
Some meals were pretty standard things intended to fill an empty stomach cheaply. However, sometimes meals were most memorable. The one experience I enjoyed and still think about was in Triacastela, Spain. After walking and finding a place to stay for the night, I walked back down the city street that coincided with the Camino. Xacobeo was a business complex that offered rooms, beds and meals from different areas of the complex. A beautiful little sidewalk café was the center of attention.
I sat outside at a small table across the walk from the main restaurant. Shade from the abutting building made the atmosphere most pleasant. I ordered a Pilgrim Menu dinner choosing the Paella as a first course and the other courses consisted of some meat and patatas, and a nice desert. It came with a bottle of Vino Blanco. It was an amazingly good meal. I sat for quite a while, enjoying the atmosphere and relaxing near many other pilgrims doing the same. Thinking back over my trip, I had several new friends tell me that they were doing their second Camino, or their third Camino, or their eighth Camino! My Danish friend Leni was on the trail doing her eight Camino and celebrating her 85th birthday! What a delightful few days I spent walking with this extraordinary person. Will I do a second or third Camino? I don’t know, really. However, if I ever talk my brother in to it, I would love to have this adventure again with my brother, Steve. I would choose to do the Camino Porto, which starts in Porto, Portugal and is a walk up the coast of Spain. That walk with my brother is very tempting. In a few months I will turn 72 and my brother will be 61. Age is just a number.
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