
SPAIN: The Camino de Santiago is a 500-mile hike and pilgrimage across northern Spain. It takes about 30 days to complete on foot. You carry everything you need in a backpack, and follow the arrows and shells so you don’t get lost. I completed the walk over two summers with a few friends. This is a journal from the first summer.
El Camino, Pt. 1 (Summer 2017)
INTRODUCTION: Packing for the Camino is no small task. You carry everything you need in a backpack–and everything that you decide is important enough to bring… well, it weighs something. I did so much research on ultralight packing, and still brought way too much.
I think most pilgrims (people who walk the Camino) would agree that everyone brings too much. But the rule or saying is, “The Camino will provide”–and you have to trust that. If you don’t, your hips and feet and knees and back will surely remind you that you overpacked and need to have a mustard seed of faith.

June 26, 2017: Home to Keflavik, Iceland to Paris, France
Travel Day #1, The Day of the Planes. We had a quick layover in Keflavik–I really like how efficient their airport is–and arrived at CDG in France, noting heavily armed security and a serious lack of internet. We were completely exhausted from the flight, but excited that our journey had begun. The hotel was so close to the airport that the planes flew by overhead “so often, you don’t even notice”. I am certain I slept soundly, nevertheless.


June 27, 2017: Paris to Bordeaux to Bayonne St.-Jean-Pied-de-Port (France)
Travel Day #2, The Day of the Trains. On a map, it doesn’t look that far from Paris to southern France. In real life after an international flight, it feels quite long indeed. We arrived just in time to get our Camino passports and have a pilgrim dinner at a local albergue.
Ça d’écouter beaucoup de français ici, en France, me donne plaisir. J’adore le langage et je comprends plus que j’ai pensé que je savais. Maintenant nous sommes dans un train et j’imagine qu’il y a quatre heures plus avant d’arriver à Bordeaux. Nous avons arrêté à St. Jeans de Cœurs ou quelque ville comme ça, j’ai déjà oublié ! Je vois autre ville petite par la fenêtre. Je me sens française aujourd’hui et je pense en vivre ici pour améliorer mon français. Les gens sont très sympathiques.
J’ai parlé avec une maman ce matin parce que j’ai vu tellement d’amour dans la famille et elle m’a dit que, d’accord, c’est un langage universel et il ne faut pas des mots pour comprendre ça. Seulement il y a beaucoup des arbres très verts et le train va lentement, pas vite. De toute façon, je suis très contente et j’espère pouvoir écrire et parler mieux le français un jour juste comme l’espagnol, car maintenant elles sont très simples ici mes phrases…


June 28, 2017: St.-Jean-Pied-de-Port to Roncesvalles (France to Spain), 26km
The first day of the Camino de Santiago began with teriffic enthusiasm for our upcoming adventures. After a quick breakfast, we grabbed our backpacks, water, and walking sticks and set off. We were quickly in the Pyrenees Mountains, hiking straight up a steep incline. The morning was gorgeous, and we saw sheep and horses aplenty along the way. The picture of the gate on the ground is the “border” between France and Spain. We did it!












It seemed like a fairytale beginning. However, we had almost reached the top of the Pyrenees (over 11,000 feet) when it began to pour. Like, buckets. In the middle of nowhere on a mountaintop, we were experiencing a crazy thunder, lightning, and hailstorm. What to do? Well, honestly, there wasn’t much we could do.
We just continued walking down the mountain–perhaps there was a little frantic running involved, but the visibility was very low because the rain was so heavy (and we didn’t want to fall off the mountain); so we pretended that we weren’t holding metal walking sticks during a lightning storm and kept hiking as Mother Nature pelted us with hailstones. In the end, we made it to the next town, but were completely drenched–passports included. Eeek. Quite the beginning. Makes you grateful for the little things.


June 29, 2017: Roncesvalles to Larrasoaña (Spain), 27km
Pockets of beauty began to reveal themselves following The Day of the Storm. Today was no exception. There were flowers and secret gardens everywhere!







June 30, 2017: Larrasoaña to Pamplona (Spain), 16.5km
Today we saw fields of wheat, horses, and small waterfalls, and hiked over hills and alongside highways. It felt so strange to hear the sounds of the city after being surrounded by mountains for the past few days.
Comentario: La niebla cae sobre la tierra como si fuera una manta invisible. Oigo un gallo en la distancia y sonrío, ya que hace tanto que he oído ese sonido. No hay mucho para decir porque—irónicamente—hay tanto para decir: ¿por dónde empezar? Las palabras me saldrán cuando estoy lista. Mientras tanto, sigo caminando…
















July 1, 2017: Pamplona to Puente la Reina (Spain), 24km
We hiked up Alto de Perdón, the “Mount of Forgiveness” today. It is believed that with each step up the incline, you forgive others and you are also forgiven. The inscription at the top says, “Donde se cruza el camino del viento con el de las estrellas,” or “where the path of the wind crosses that of the stars”.
The wind was definitely very strong, and the [massive] windmills put me in a Don Quijote mood, particularly after meeting a loveable donkey. Technically, La Mancha is south of the Camino, but it was all so picturesque, that I felt like I could imagine what Cervantes (the author) was seeing when he wrote the Spanish masterpiece. As you may have noticed, Pato also made the climb.














July 2, 2017: Puente la Reina to Lizarra/Estella (Spain), 22km
We met a lovely elderly French man today who was not only walking the Camino, but also helped save a baby bird that flew into a screen right in front of us. The landscape has started to change slightly. It feels and looks drier, and the temperatures have started to increase.
In the country, we saw rich, colorful soil and artichokes, and in the city, there were street singers singing and playing, “¡Ay yie yie yie, canta, no llores!”. Before we got to the city, there was a moment when we were completely lost, beside a wheat field in the middle of nowhere: not a soul in the world knew where we were, and it was such a strange feeling.
Later on, we ate paella and saw a cute red train!


















July 3, 2017: Lizarra/Estella to Los Arcos to Torres del Río (Spain), 29.6km
It was incredibly hot and dry today after a few hours of hiking, but then, very abruptly, we would come across beautiful bursts of color. We walked and walked, and around two in the afternoon, found the only pink flower in a field as far as you could see (that had managed to survive the 110*F temps). Note that the rest of the field looked like a straw desert!
This day was particularly memorable because of the extreme heat, as well as the delicious irony that we hiked to a town called Sansol. In French, sans means “without”, so I read it as, “without sun” the first time I saw it, since sol in Spanish means sun. I cannot emphasize how hot it was. I will say that although it was the siesta when we arrived in town, we managed to find a place to eat gazpacho (a cold tomato soup)–so amazing and refreshing!



















July 4, 2017: Torres del Río to Logroño (Spain), 21.4km
We began hiking early enough this morning to watch the sunrise. It was beautiful. I struggle with wanting to be in the moment, but also trying to document everything. We had ice cream milkshakes with whip cream, which tasted like the absolute best thing in the world after hiking all day long. “It’s only 44 degrees… yeah, in Celsius!” (111.2*F)
No entiendo porque no me salen las palabras en estos días de pura aventura. Vivo la vida más que en cualquier otro tiempo, pero no hay nada que decir—mientras cuando me tumbo en el sofá, pues no dejo de escribir, las palabras me salen como una cascada (más pequeña) o una catarata…







July 5, 2017: Logroño to Nájera (Spain), 31km





July 6, 2017: Nájera to Santo Domingo de la Calzada to Grañón (Spain)
My shoes and I have become enemies. Each morning, I try to shove my foot–which feels like a block of wood–into my sneakers. The scenery is beautiful, but my feet cannot see it through the pain. Ow, ow, ow! But… just keep hiking. The Camino has many lessons to share.





July 7, 2017: Grañón to Villafranca Montes de Oca (Spain)
Such a cute town–population: 60. Also, do you see the huge bird nests in the picture on top of the building (church?)? Wow! Today I saw sunflowers and ate morcilla and flan. My foot still hurts, but it was a great day!















July 8, 2017: Villafranca Montes de Oca to Burgos–via city bus (Spain)
Seriously swollen ankle and foot now. I told you my foot hurt! As a result, we took the bus to Burgos. There was some guilt in not walking there, but it was necessary given the circumstances. I loved the cathedral in Burgos–incredibly ornate. There was also this crazy street performer who balanced a glass ball on his hand, and then made it travel up and down his arm to the beat of a song playing. Wild!














Video
July 9, 2017: Burgos to Logroño to Pamplona–via bus (Spain)
We backtracked to Pamplona for San Fermines, or Running of the Bulls. Literally everyone was wearing red and white, down to their shoes: it was kind of amazing! That evening, it was very cold, but we hung out underneath an overhang in a plaza and so were somewhat sheltered from the rain. There was a party in the plaza and a lot of people were dancing to the Spice Girls–pretty funny! I also saw a sign with the word for “breakfast” in 18 languages. Love this!







Video
July 10, 2017: Pamplona to San Sebastián–via bus (Spain)
We spent the morning in Pamplona, watching more of the San Fermines festivities. The festivities run for a full week, from July 6 to July 14, beginning at 8am.





Later, we traveled north to San Sabastián. It was a linguistic shock to see all of the signs first in the Basque language, and then in Spanish. We had some amazing tapas; however, this turned out to be the only thing I liked about San Sabastián.


After going to the beach to put salt water on our ankle rashes, we learned that the peregrino hostels there were only for pilgrims doing the more remote route along Spain’s northern coast. Figuring out where to stay was an issue. The day was cold, gray, and unwelcoming. When we finally found a hostel, we slept for close to 14 hours straight, inadvertently missing dinner.






July 11, 2017: San Sebastián to Bayonne (Spain to France)





July 12-13, 2017: Bayonne to Bordeaux St. Jean to Paris to Keflavik to home
Travel days- more trains and planes. Traveling can be exhausting, but I have to say that I really, really, really love French food. It just makes the trip so happy! Crêpes, fancy salmon, café au lait, and desserts… délicieux! To top it off, we learned that Snyrtingar means “bathroom” in Icelandic (I found this word highly amusing), and got to ride in a Northern-Lights-themed bus to the aircraft. But don’t worry, Spain, I’ll be back.










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