Would you believe me if I told you that we walked across a country? Well, we did. So there. The Camino de Santiago walk in Northern Spain was always on our list of things we wanted to do on this around-the-world adventure. Craig has completed it once (bad. ass.) and spoke so highly of this 490-mile walk that it made me say…

Now that we’ve successfully completed this pilgrimage (spoiler), part of me feels like it didn’t really happen. Maybe I hallucinated all 32 days of it? Maybe we didn’t walk for 6-8 hours every day? Nope. Definitely did all those things. I even have a black toenail to prove it. Don’t worry, I won’t post a pic.

So, if you know anything about the Camino, you may wonder why two seemingly non-religious/borderline atheists decided to do what’s considered a religious pilgrimage. Well, simply put, it sounded awesome. Not to mention we love outdoors-y stuff and you can’t get more outdoors-y then spending EVERY day outside. And when/if Craig and I produce offspring, you can bet that we will tell them ‘you know what…your parents are fucking badasses’ and then force them to sit down and look at our pictures while they roll their eyes and think ‘god, my parents are lame.’ But we know the truth.

We met people who did the Camino for all sorts of reasons. Some for the big man (or woman) upstairs, some for a loved one, some for a break from their 9-5. That’s what makes the Camino so great, you make it what you want and then just start walking.

Getting to the start was easy. We flew from Paris to Biarritz and then took two buses to our starting point, Saint-Jean-Pied-de-Port. I would say a majority of the people walking the Camino start here, unless you are the ultimate badass (like our friends Warren and Helen; more on them later) and start in Le Puy for an extra 30+ days of walking.

Saint-Jean was a lot cuter than I expected. It was a nice welcome to our walk…and it was balls hot.

We arrived in the early afternoon, and since we weren’t starting our walk until the next morning, had all day to explore/chill. But first things first, we had to officially register at the pilgrimage office and get our credentials that you must show at the places you stay along the way. Most of the places won’t let you stay if you don’t have this, and plus, you get a neat stamp at every spot.

The morning we started the walk, I was kinda giddy/nervous. A ton of ‘what ifs’ ran through my mind. What if I get lost? What if I get hurt? What if all these what ifs ruin my time? I’ll answer the first two questions. One, it’s incredibly difficult to get lost on the Camino. You either look for a yellow arrow (which are everywhere) pointing you in the right direction, or you look for the shell on the road or wall of buildings, or just follow the backpacks of the pilgrims ahead of you.

To answer the second what-if question, we did have a few injuries along the way, but nothing that wasn’t fixed with a rest day and good ol’ Feder stubbornness.

The first day of the Camino is known to be the hardest. I mean you do climb over the Pyrenees. Easy. It’s the day a lot of people get injured. Day one. How fun? Luckily we made it up and over the big P; NBD. The first night you have zero options of where you stay. Everyone and their mother stay at the one and only accommodations in the tiny village of Roncesvalles. According to Wikipedia, the population is 33. But in this small village, they have a massive monastery that holds 400+ pilgrims.

We are naturally pretty fast walkers and since 90% of the people doing the Camino are 60+ retirees, we hustled past all of them and arrived fairly early. Others had to wait in line for hours and deal with the angry lady that constantly yells ‘silencio’ to all the tired pilgrims.

Once we paid for dinner and our bunks (which ran us about 40 euros), we made our way to our assigned bunks. And while our bunk numbers were right after one another, we were in separate sections. But we were close-ish.

Donald Trump would totally approve of this wall keeping an immigrant out of America.

It was during our first night that we met two Aussies, Warren and Helen, who had already been walking for 30+ days when we met them on our day one. They quickly became our drinking buddies. I guess Aussies like to drink as much as Kiwis and Americans.

Surprisingly, in a room of about 100 bunks (sectioned into groups of 4), I slept pretty damn well. I’d like to thank my white noise app and sleep mask…and the fact that the lights were automatically shut off at 10pm and turned back on at 6:30am.

Day 2 (don’t worry, I won’t give you a day-by-day play of our 32 days on the trail) was easier, but still a lot of descending on the ol’ knees. Zig-zagging down hills became our new game. Yes, people stared at us wondering what the “young couple” were doing. But trust me, it works. Less impact on the legs all the way.

The first few days of the Camino, everyone pretty much stays in the same towns due to there being no other options. This makes for a semi-stressful time since you want to get in and get a room before they sell out… nobody wants to have to walk on to the next town.

When packing for this walk, we had the motto of less is more. But many did not. Like this guy. Pardon the shitty pic, but he is wheeling a suitcase along the trail, while carrying a full pack on his back. I wanted to give him a hand… bythrowing his suitcase into the woods.

In the beginning, I was stopping to take pics of every cute and quaint building or church we walked past. Craig goes “trust me, there will be more.” And boy, was he right. A church in every single town (no matter the size). To be honest, we got a bit churched-out.

After three days of walking, we decided to take a rest day in Pamplona. Which turned into two rest days because we were both battling some minor injuries due to the concrete-heavy walk into the city. And even though we spent most of our time in Pamplona icing our injuries on our amazing couch courtesy of our Airbnb…

We did get a chance to explore this unique walled city (and miss the chaos of running with the bulls).

Pamplona isn’t that bustling of a tourist destination, which was a nice change from Paris, which was rammed with people. We had some proper alone time (looking, not praying) in some gorgeous churches.

Overall, being a vegetarian in Spain sucks. There, I said it. Most people look at you like you’re an alien when you ask ‘vegetariano?’ Or they assume you eat fish. And Spain seems to LOVE their tuna. They put it on everything. I had two amazing meals while we were on the walk, the others could be described as meh. A lot of bread and potatoes. One time one of the meals was canned asparagus with a side of mayo. Yuck. Also, if I see another patata tortilla, I may snap.

Now let’s talk accommodations. Most of the places you can stay in are called albergues. They are strictly for people doing the walk and usually consist of bunks. We ended up staying in three bunk rooms the entire time because albergues usually have double private rooms to rent and, for a mere $20 more, you can have privacy and not deal with the snorers of the group. Did we feel a little snobby? Yes, at first. Then we got over it.

We made a point of reserving our rooms a few days out so we could take the time to enjoy the walk and not feel rushed. I mean, the whole point is to slow down a bit, right? So we took the time, had a glass of wine (or a cerveza) and slowly made our way to our next destination.

A week into our walk we both were having issues with our feet. Our trusty shoes were hating us, even though we had broken them in prior. It made the days drag on a bit. When we arrived to Los Arcos, we were practically limping. It was in Los Arcos we met a friendly American named Martin. Martin was rocking the walk solo. We had some sangria together and ended up pretty much being on the same walking pace the entire way, and it was nice seeing a familiar face.

It was also walking out of Los Arcos the next morning, when the sunrise had a total look-at-me moment and did this. Magic.

Over the next few days, we stayed in more double rooms in more towns with churches. Here’s a quick summary of said days, so I don’t have to bore you with the details: wake up around 7am and walk 30+ kilometers a day (that’s over 18.6 miles a day for you Americans), stop for lunch with wine and an ice cream bar, get to destination around 3pm, shower ASAP, walk to sometimes the one and only bar and drink until dinner, eat, sleep, repeat.

We became pros at washing our clothes in the shower and then drying them on the road.

We perfected the art of a cheese, tomato and cucumber sandwich…which set us back like 2 euros a day.

We discovered the fuente del vino which allows pilgrims to fill up water bottles of free wine for the road. Solid.

 

We learned that all those people wearing hiking sandals were smart mofos and all our feet problems were solved when we strapped these babies on. Now, I just need a Subaru.

We celebrate four months of traveling…and four months of Craig’s beard.

We survived staying in a town (population 50) that had all the water shut off.

Luckily, the owners kept the bar open for people staying at their place. They also managed to cook us a dinner using zero water. I mean, how cute is their place?

Stay tuned for the most dramatic conclusion of the Camino, ever. Just kidding, Chris Harrison.

Here’s a preview: it’s filled with more wine, a few more blisters, and the end of walking.