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A year ago, the structures of my life were dismantled. What remained? The opportunity to embrace kairos—the art of trusting life’s unfolding rather than forcing outcomes.
➡️ Read the full story on my substack - link in bio to my channel.

The ancient stones of the Camino de Santiago have a way of stripping away pretense. After walking more than a million steps – twice – along this pilgrim’s path, I’ve discovered that surrender isn’t just an act of letting go; it’s an art of becoming undone.

In February I wrote some early thoughts on my journey towards surrender, thinking back then that I’d be out the other side by mid year.

It’s almost Christmas… and I’m still in it - perhaps more deeply than I’ve ever been, certainly more physically and mentally than I ever remember.

Find out where I’m at in the full article on Substack.

This is for anyone who finds themselves at a crossroads and isn’t quite sure what to do. I don’t have all the answers, but I share my experience in service of us finding out together.

~ Substack link in bio ~

#surrendertolife #caminodesantiago

Camino Francés - epilogue - Finisterre (end of the world)

It’s hard to sit still after more than a month on the move. Perhaps that’s why I have 3 nights in 3 different places here at the end of the world.

I’ve made this trip before, never tiring of the walk to the faro, the expansive views to nothing, and a barefoot walk in the cold waters of Playa da Langosteira.

Some pilgrims walk along the beach too, shedding their boots feel the sand and salt between their toes for the last stretch to Fisterra.

I prefer the bus these days.

Unlike the crushing waves of the Atlantic beach Flor do Mar on the west side of the isthmus of Cabo Finisterre, Playa Langosteira is calm and serene.

The gentle waves deliver new shells to the shore each day. I smile at people of all ages (me included) bent double in search for our own version of ‘treasure’ hidden amidst the flotsam. My mind goes quiet during the hunt, rekindling a connection to childhood walks at the beach and the never-ending search for nature’s perfection.

If you have grown up by the sea, you’ll know that quieting of the mind, the smells of the seaweed, and the joy of discovery. These days, I rarely take the shells I’ve found so that this beautiful beach can replenish itself through the breakdown of shells to sand, to blissful walks for us humans.

Spending a little more time here during the post-summer peak has created space for discovering better dining options, and exploring paths less traveled.

The World Family Cafe became my go-to for a bit of hippy magic. The food was wholesome, portions were generous and the atmosphere relaxed. The Camino isn’t known for exceptional veggie options, so it’s a real gem 💎

I dropped my well-worn boots into the trash at a shopping centre in Santiago when I replaced them with some comfy trainers. Similarly, I’ve donated my walking pole and poncho to Pilgrim House and released hiking pants and shorts I will no longer wear.

This letting go is as much about lightening the load in my pack as it is about signalling the closure of this chapter for now.

#caminofinisterre #caminofrances #caminodesantiago

Camino Frances / Invierno - etapa final - to Santiago de Compostela

Arriving at ‘the end’ has always felt a little empty. I’ve never had any sense of achievement or finality about arriving in Plaza do Obradoiro in front of the Cathedral… the essence of the Camino for me is the journey, not the destination.

On each of my previous walks, I’ve walked into the plaza with someone - a compañero from The Way.

Today, I arrived alone.

It feels like a fitting conclusion to a journey that has invited me to go inwards, to be in reflection for so many days.

Walking the city streets, Vincent (remember the Vegemite video) came into view. He’s been here for some days, visiting Finisterre already.

@fyrfalkcamino surprised me when he appeared on a corner and says ‘hi’. We’ve never met in person, but have been connected on social media for a couple of years. I didn’t even know he was here… Camino magic.

Evelyn messaged to bid me farewell - she’s on her way to London. 😥

Luke and Angelika spotted me in queue for tapas and we’ve agreed to meet for dinner. We’ll miss the company of @lbayonar and @aitziberlasa who finished in Najera.

I’ll see Debbie, Noël and Tim from South Carolina on 30th for dinner.

There may be others who will appear in the next few days.

We’ve all walked The Way to Santiago, yet we’ve all had completely unique experiences - and that’s the magic of it.

Whether you walk together or alone, the Camino has a way of connecting, disconnecting and re-connecting later - much like our life beyond the path.

In the days ahead I’ll enjoy the coast in sandals and shorts, taking some time to reflect on what was, what is, and what could be.

Thanks for following along, for your messages of support and kindness.

A big shout out to my Camino support team @wander.with.dora, @__._d_a_n_i_e_l_.__ , @mammamia_3 and Noël who walked with me in April. These are some of the most incredible people I’ve met this year, and they’ve been cheering me along on WhatsApp each day, as have many of you on various channels.

Apparently I’d make a great Camino tour guide! 🤣🤣

Camino Frances / Invierno - etapa 32/11 - to Susana

Ever have one of those days where nothing really registers?

On the penultimate day of this journey, that was my day…

I was out of the Albergue early to get ahead of the oncoming rain. The path itself was a combination of secondary roads and wide tracks through a mix of farm, forest and vineyard.

The trees started swaying just a little too much, and I jumped a couple of times when old bark fell from the eucalypts. What I didn’t know was that Storm Aitor was hitting Galicia with winds up to 130km/h.

It wasn’t that strong where I was, but the rain and wind was heavy at times, reminding me of the time I rode through a storm to Muxia in 2021 - again without knowing. I’ve noticed that Europe names storms in the same way Australia names cyclones… meaning that they’re pretty bad!

There were more pilgrims on the way today, all Spanish. The Invierno meets other routes just after Lalin, so they could have come from any one of the south-to-north routes.

A number of us chose to stay 10km from Santiago at a delightful place just off the main highway. The owner is a caring woman who goes out of her way for guests at the Albergue and the customers in her bar/restaurant. She’s one of those awesome people you meet on the Camino.

Only 10km tomorrow!

#caminoinvierno #caminofrances #caminodesantiago

Camino Frances / Invierno - etapa 31/9 - to Silleda

It rained.

A lot.

I walked in the rain for 4 hours, huddled tight under my umbrella until it too started to leak. I didn’t bother with the poncho or long pants since they just make things hot and uncomfortable.

Instead I walked in shorts and a tee with a neck buff. Less to clean later, though I reckon I’ll be leaving my boots soon enough. The tread is almost worn down after more than 2,000 km this year.

The water expanded my feet, my socks and my boots, creating all the conditions for a sometidos painful walk. Removing the insoles that saved my feet after O’Barco gave instant relief. The Camino pushes you to adapt to every eventuality, from the small niggles to the things that could end your walk.

Once again there were no services today so I walked 40km on a coffee and a banana. I’d planned to grab something in Lalin at around the 22km mark, but everything was closed for siesta. In Silleda I learned that there’s a fiesta this week and many places close ahead of and after it as well.

What Lalin does offer is the chance to get good onward advice and a most amazing wax stamp in your credencial. I got both before pressing on to Silleda 16km away. Since there was no sign of my peregrino friends, I knew that moving on would place me one stage ahead of them… but this is the way.

The remainder of the Camino passes through the land of ancient Pazos (country homes) that were built as early as the mid-1500’s. To be walking through these historical lands is mind-blowing on one level and yet it becomes unremarkable because of how normalised it has become over the past month.

In Silleda, I was the only guest at the Albergue. The town has many places to stay for the number of pilgrims (it seems). I wrote a note to say farewell to Vito, knowing this is his next stop; and to recommend the bodegón so he doesn’t have to search for a menu.

Two stages left…

#caminoinvierno #caminodesantiago #caminofrances

Camino Francés / Invierno - etapa 29/8 - to Rodeiro

After days of walking alone, I gathered new friend - Vitor from Portugal.

Vitor’s in his 70’s and has walked many Caminos. He took but a fall on the way down the steep slope yesterday, so I took him with me to the Adega for free wine. We speak in Spanish, testing the limits of my comprehension, but we make it work.

If you love to eat, Sunday and Monday can be tough days for foodies at dinner in regional Spain. Dinner options were limited in Chantada, so we ended up at a Meson where the owner could have walked off the set of a Spanish version of Faulty Towers. It was a hilarious and delicious meal where we and a local couple were the only diners.

Today’s walk took us across the 100km mark, and up to Monte Faro (1,191m). It was followed by a long hike under the wind turbines before arriving into Rodeiro.

The peak of the mountain offers views into the provinces of Lugo, Ourense and Pontevedra. On a clearer day I’m sure the view is stunning. Today it was still somewhat hazed.

As the end approaches I feel the changes in the landscape - shorter days, the distinct end of season flavour of the berries, and the onset of Autumn.

I feel the changes in me too.

From the Frances to the Invierno and those first grinding days on this new path. They were tough - physically, emotionally and mentally.

The Camino is never a straight line from start to end. It’s a real hero’s journey.

A full lunar month has held up the mirror on so many of my patterns, pressed more buttons than my past pilgrimages, and forced me to come to grips with what next - and get very concrete about it.

At the same time, it has stripped away old identities and shown me the expansive freedom I have to choose.

We often feel we have binary choices…it’s a lie that keeps us stuck.

We have a whole range of options if we get creative and dare to dream a little bigger or wider than we are now.

#caminofrances #caminodesantiago

Camino Frances / Invierno - etapa 28/7 - to Chantada

Have you ever had one of those days that starts with a bit of trepidation but unfolds in the most magical ways?

That was my day today.

I knew it would be long. The other pilgrims at the Albergue warned me it was mostly on the road.

They were somewhat dreading it.

My 6am departure was relegated to 9am so I could get a stamp from the pilgrim interpretation centre (nothing to do with the blissful 7h 45m sleep 😉).

The first trail angel appeared with a wheelbarrow of grapes and implored me to take a bunch. Fresh from the vine, they were a welcome change from berries and figs (no complaints about those either btw). He offered apples from his tree as well.

There’s no services for the first 27km, so it was picnic by a water fountain just as the mist was rising above the forest, turning a cool grey day to a humid one.

The climb today was rewarded by expansive views across the Rio Minho at Cabo do Mundo. Wow!! 😮

It reminded me of a similar view from Chiapas in Mexico from Feb, which in turn reminds me of a brown version at the Grand Canyon!

Expansive views were repeated on the steep descent to the river itself, before an awfully steep climb back up between vineyards on the other side. It was so steep you’d be forgiven for having vertigo when looking down. We didn’t follow the switchbacks, we crossed over them - straight up!

The second trail angel appeared driving a tiny tractor which refused to move from the edge of the road, even though the farmer saw me ahead of him. He wasn’t trying to push me from the road, he too wanted to offer me grapes! Bless him and his kindness - it was perfect timing.

The last was Adega Via Romana where pilgrims get a stamp and free glass of wine while enjoying the view in a region known as Ribeira Sacra. This is an area worth exploring further!

Today was beauty beheld! So much to take in!

In the small-ish town of Chantada there are only 3 pilgrims sleeping tonight, but I heard there’s a stampede of 18 on their way here tomorrow.

I’ll perpetually be a day ahead 🙏

#caminoinvierno #caminodesantiago

Camino Francés / Invierno - rest day

The surge from Sarria was gone by 9am. I watched the later departures from a cafe on the Rua Nova, followed soon after by the bag taxi for the piles of suitcases brought by train yesterday.

I’d sketched an off-stage route to Santiago on the French Way… but I left it.

By mid-afternoon I was enjoying a glass of wine in the Parador in Monforte de Lemos, taking in the architecture of the converted Monasterio that is now the hotel.

At my Albergue for the night three pilgrims arrived, as if from the ethers since they too had seen very few, if any, pilgrims during their travels.

With Italian, Portuguese and English, our communication was stilted but manageable. All agree that this is a beautiful path to walk, despite the long stages. They showed me some stamps I’d missed on account of one being hidden in a teapot, and the churches being closed when I passed in the early hours.

The rest and good night’s sleep has recharged the batteries and fortified the mind to face the hills once more. I continue on Camino del Invierno tomorrow, knowing that I’ll see my amigos in Santiago.

The diversion to Sarria for the night, and dinner with Evelyn, was the circuit breaker I needed, reminding me of how easy it is to shift the energy, mix things up and go your own way.

Onwards…

#caminoinvierno #caminodesantiago

Etapa 27/6 - Camino Frances / Invierno - to Monforte de Lemos

Unhealthy levels of smoke now blanket much of Galicia and the aromas of the landscape were replaced by the faintest hint of charred wood. What I couldn’t smell, I noticed in the slight sting at the back of my throat. Covering my mouth with my bandana seemed futile, and made the hard climb out of Quiroga even harder.

A deep frustration grew with each step up the mountains now denuded of their forests. The madness of humanity’s destruction laid bare in every stump now protruding from the earth. The logging wasn’t recent and efforts at reforestation were non-existent.

When I entered the last area of forest on one mountain, a bird cried out with alarm at my intrusion. The alarms continued down the track ahead of me until I was out in the moonscape once more.

Ascents and descents were the big feature of the day, and only one village where a snack was possible, but still no pilgrims.

“Buen Camino” a man called from Cafe Avenida in Pobra do Brollon.

“Gracias” I called back, leaning into the walk once more.

Monforte de Lemos rose up into the haze ahead of me after one more hill. With rain now falling I hoped it would bring some of the haze to the ground. It didn’t.

At the Albergue a large dog and kind man greeted me. I’d been attacked by a dog a few days ago, chased by away by dogs in chains, behind fences or in the street. I left - not because of the dog but because of a deeper need.

“What is the way without people?” I’d said to Daniel when I rejoined him on the French Way earlier in the year.

I’d joked with Debbie and Noël that I might hop across to Sarria for a bit of buzz after the silence of the Invierno… so I did… meeting up with Evelyn for dinner. In one sense it was hard to step off the Invierno, and yet it was just what I needed in that moment. Will I return to the Invierno in solitude or rejoin the camaraderie of the French Way?

Tomorrow I’ll know…

#caminoinvierno #caminofrances

Camino Francés / Invierno - etapa 26/5

Have you ever walked among fig trees in the summer? They emit a perfume that will forever remind me of my time in Bierzo on Camino Invierno.

Figs are one of my favourite fruits and each day has delivered an abundance of them on trees growing wild along the trail or roadside. Along with blackberries, they’ve been my go to for a quick snack along the way.

This route is far more challenging than I expected. Last night after walking I lay down and immediately started shaking involuntarily. I was dehydrated, hungry and sunburnt. Today I was determined to maintain better hydration, carry extra food (fruit isn’t enough for my output) and take things a little easier.

That meant I cut out 14km of walking on the roadside and train tracks which is the whole stage between O Barco and A Rua. The roadside is dangerous and the exposed gravel track next to rails just sucks.

That left 26 km scaling the mountains alongside the Rio Sil and following their contours (up and down), through small villages until Quiroga.

Once again their were no other pilgrims on the way, just me and the constant motion of my boots. With no cafes or bars, the most exciting thing I saw was a spring of iron-laden water and a stone carved cup holder. I washed my hands, smelled the iron in the water but wasn’t game enough to drink.

Quiroga was my stop for the evening - a cute town with lots of street art and some good (and not so good) places to eat. A family appeared outside my hostal looking for a room, but it was completo. I watched them shoulder their backpacks and head to the Municipal Albergue. Must book ahead for the weekend, I thought.

There’s been a subtle but significant shift about how I feel about the walk having gained some big insights a few days ago. I notice a less compulsive need to finish it and some disengagement with the sheer monotony of walking 30km alone day after day. I n this appreciation, I come to realise this will be my last walk for quite some time…

#caminoinvierno

Camino Frances / Invierno - etapa 25/4 to O Barco

Mother moon was still high enough in the sky for me to make a dash up the mountain to witness her above Las Médulas. I vacillated over the choice before eventually turning back to make the climb. 132m up said google maps - seemed reasonable except I had forgotten just how high 100m is when it’s almost straight up!

In the dim light of my headlamp I could barely make out the path, and mother moon was waiting for no-one as she approached the western horizon. I dumped my bag on the side of the track and made a run for it. When I saw how bad the track was on the way back down I wondered how I’d run up that hill and not fallen flat on my face.

The reward was a spectacular view of Las Médulas in that liminal space between night and day, with father sun rising in the east behind me and mother moon straight ahead. It was a glorious moment of contemplation and reflection in a wonderful setting while the cosmos was also having its moment - full moon, close to solstice, eclipse energy!

A tiny breakfast in Las Médulas town tuned out to be my only meal. I’d planned on it being a 27km walk, figured it might be 32km with the diversion. At 37km I was done!

The walk into Puente de Domingo Florez delivered some much needed clarity, and I realised how much I needed this time away from the beautiful new friends for new ideas to arise. In the solitude I feel more spacious. I notice the scenery, and the smell of the trail - the pungent aroma of fig and terpenes from the pine forest.

The Camino Invierno isn’t for everyone. I saw one other pilgrim, and our interaction was limited to “hello”. My meal in O Barco was a supermarket picnic on my bed. I didn’t have the energy for more after a gruelling day on the trail with its constant ascents and descents. I’d walked through pine forest, vineyards, through groves of oak, small villages, along the train tracks and even on the main road. Every sense was full!

O Barco was a bustling place in the evening with its riverside cafes and picnics, but my bed called and an early start towards Quiroga.

#caminoinvierno

Camino Francés / Invierno - etapa 24/3 -to Orellan

My desire for a quieter walk was only one of the reasons to walk the Camino Invierno from Ponferrada. The other one was to see Las Médulas, the ancient remains of Roman gold mining using a method that quite literally destroys mountains.

The pre-dawn walk to Cornatel Castle was a delightful stroll along a path shaded by Castaña (chestnut) trees. A village cat took an instant liking to me not far from the Albergue and insisted on running beside and in front of me, much as a dog might do.

It was a mostly solitary day, where I crossed paths with a few tourists and only 2 of the pilgrims from the previous evening. They were passing by and not stopping to explore Las Médulas.

When I took a fall on some loose rocks that sent my hand straight onto a long-dried chestnut husk, I was grateful that nothing was broken, but I spent the next hour removing the tiny needles that lodged themselves in my palm and wrist. They say the Romans planted the Castaña as a food source. It wouldn’t surprise me if the husks weren’t also used as some sort of awful weapon too!

It was another blazing day, with relief from the sun offered by the prolific castaña trees, many of them are hundreds of years old and each has a label in recognition of their protected status.

When I reached the Orellan Lookout, the view was better than any photo I’ve seen. The whole area is a captivating historical account of the ingenuity of Roman engineers. It’s also strikingly beautiful.

My Casa Rural was also beyond expectations, where the host Isabella was a breath of fresh air. I feasted on venison cooked roman style, accompanied by delicious Mencia red wine. Perfect fuel for the slightly longer day tomorrow.

When sleep finally arrived, I passed out feeling like this had been a day worthy of the effort to walk all around the site, up all the hills and to view the ruined mines in all their splendour from different directions.

#caminoinvierno

Camino Frances/Invierno - etapa 23/2 - to Villavieja

This day felt like an episode of Survivor!

I’d planned it as a 28km stroll from El Acebo into Ponferrada and out to Villavieja on the Camino de Invierno. I’d even wondered if I should have gone further to my day 2 stop.

I’m glad I didn’t. I might have needed an ambulance.

35km is a solid day, but in 30 degree heat it quickly becomes a very long and arduous day when there’s no working water fountains and enduring uphill terrain.

I left before dawn to enjoy the sunrise over Ponferrada, and get the admin done when I got down the mountain - groceries, info centre, stamp, etc.

Jen and I said farewell at the Castle before I set off to the south. Another parting on the way to Santiago. I may yet see her at finisterre.

Much like the Camino de San Salvador, I had a feeling of stepping into the unknown. This route is little used, and has limited infrastructure.

I didn’t see another pilgrim on the path as it wound its way around the bowl-like valley in which Ponferrada is built. A straight line road would have got me there in half the time, but that’s not how it works.

I had underestimated just how tough the second 14km walk was. The heat of a 30 degrees day and very little water made it harder than the same distance on the French Way. It also turned out to be closer to 36km rather than 28km!

With an absence of fountains, I turned to berries and figs as a source of energy for the last 4 km which was at first a gradual but then extraordinarily step ascent. It took every fibre of will to keep going with my bag of food in one hand and umbrella in the other - eyes darting between path and scenery.

The Albergue looked deserted until Lyn came downstairs to say Hi. We both assumed we’d be alone at this unstaffed facility until first a group of 2, then 3 others arrived. The place hadn’t seen more than 2 people in weeks. All were exhausted from the walk.

Nestled against a rock wall in the mountains, this was the most remote and peaceful of all the places I’d stayed so far.

Despite the unexpected ‘crowd’ it still felt like an u touched slice of paradise, tucked away in the middle of nowhere.
#caminoinvierno

Camino Francés - etapa 22 - to El Acebo de San Miguel

In Rabanal del Camino someone left a tin of poems, prayers and offerings:

“Wanderer, your footsteps are the road, and nothing more; wanderer, there is no road, the road is made by walking. By walking one makes the road, and upon glancing behind one sees the path that never will be trod again. Wanderer, there is no road - Only wakes upon the sea.”

It was perfect poetry for a morning that started with a bright light flying high in the sky almost directly above the tipis before extinguishing itself along the arc of its trajectory.

I sat in awe at the crystal clear night that gave us a chilly 5 degree morning ahead of a fairly warm day for the hike to Cruz de Fierro (the place people leave the rock they have carried from home), and onwards go El Acebo de San Miguel (St Michael’s Holly).

@olguigurumis wasn’t yet at the rest area where she sells her handmade specialties of knitted pilgrim dolls, but it was worth the short wait for her to arrive. So many people had asked me about the little guy that hangs from my backpack all the way since St Jean.

News had arrived from people further ahead about the shoulder-to-shoulder walk from Sarria to Santiago for the last 100km. In Foncebadon we spot a small tour bus and at the Cruz, two coaches pull in. 🥺

I see people bracing themselves for the way ahead, and try to reassure them that they’ll be okay. Sharing some tips that led to @__._d_a_n_i_e_l_.__ , @itsmedorawhite and I having a fairly quiet time on that stretch doesn’t seem to land with some - they politely nod their heads, but perhaps the fear is too seductive. Others gratefully take notes on staying ‘off stage’.

The Camino always gives us what we need, even if it isn’t always what we want - that’s my experience of it.

The swimming pool at El Acebo was an ice bath but my didn’t protest too much when I lowered myself into the frigid water. I even managed a couple of laps before laying in the sun to warm up. That, and the sunset after dinner, was the perfect way to close out the day.

A new adventure awaits tomorrow!

#caminofrances

Camino Francés - etapa 21 - to El Ganso

The Indian Way Albergue is unique on the Camino, since all the pilgrims sleep in one of the enormous tipis.

Compañera Dóra Fehér stayed on our last walk and recommended it so I was motivated to slow things down and take a short walk from Astorga to El Ganso for my night in the tent.

The landscape has changed once again with the third phase of the Camino starting in Astorga - the phase of spirit or soul.

It was fitting then that the first two stops out of the town were Churches. The first was built in the 70s and featured unique lead light windows that were strongly emotive. It was pure art. The floor in this holy hall was mosaic with a stunning story from the entrance of the Church to the altar. It was fascinating to see how the elements were brought together.

The second stop was a tiny Ermita where a kind volunteer stamped my credencial and offered me candy, it was a cute diversion on the way to breakfast.

The Guarda Civil were parked up at my breakfast stop, chatting to pilgrims and making sure they knew who to call, particularly women. The care and commitment to the task of educating us felt reassuring.

At a labyrinth outside of Santa Catalina de Somoza, I walked the path, blowing my intentions into a rock while I stepped delicately between the white lines. Most pilgrims walk on oblivious to its presence…

More new faces greeted me in Santa Catalina, and in El Ganso when I arrived. Keeping up with names has become harder and harder. Many people seem to know me on account of my solar shield umbrella or lost wallet. 😏

I spent the afternoon at the cowboy bar where the owner played an array of old 80’s tracks and a young couple played cards in the garden. It was the perfect place to sit and while away the time before sleep threatened to take me and I returned to the Indian Say for a snooze in a hammock.

Only a couple of sleeps left before I’m on a quieter path, and I’m so looking forward to discovering this new trail.

Last photo by @jenctrammell

Camino Francés - etapa 19 - to Hospital de Obrigo

I took the bus. 😱

I needed a self care day and didn’t fancy walking 4 hours along a highway into Leon. I looked for friends along way, and I certainly wasn’t alone in choosing an easier path today.

I used the extra time I had to find churros, replace some clothes, and get a haircut. It was the perfect rest day-ish!

Jen and Evelyn met me in one of the plazas before going our separate ways once more - Evelyn to her Albergue, Jen to the next town, and me to Hospital de Obrigo. I’ll see Jen in 2 days in El Ganso and maybe Evelyn at the end of the Camino.

Having missed this leg last time, I dearly wanted to experience the terrain and see one of the longest bridges on the Camino - the puente de Paso Honroso at 200m long and built in the 13th century. It’s worth looking up the bridge and legend if you’re interested in medieval history.

My lodging for the night was the hippy hangout Albergue Verde, where the food is organic and the warm welcome makes a nice change from the disdain we got in Leon (again) - the chief reason I won’t spend more time than necessary in the city.

My afternoon was spent laying about in the garden reading and planning my diversion along Camino Invierno.

Knowing when to rest is important. Creating the space for rest - however that looks for you - is critical.

The Camino is a marathon, not a sprint.
#caminofrances #caminodesantiago

Camino Francés-etapa 18 to Mansillas de las Mulas

I’d set out before 6 on account of the place I’d chosen to stay. In our smallish room were 5 symphonic snorers and some unusual antics. A woman old enough to be my grandma laid on her bed with legs up against the wall, and just as I’m getting into bed she decided to do aerial splits, sending one of her legs towards my head across the void separating our beds?!

The bloke on the other side coughed away before pulling down the external shutter and locked the window shut. By 1:30am I’m bathed in sweat and wide awake. I cracked the window, somewhat surprised that we didn’t all suffocate in that humid, smelly room.

I walked the path like a drunk man, I was so tired. The stunning sunrise that greeted me just outside El Burgo Ranero was the perfect counterweight to the heaviness I felt in my legs as I trudged along the dark, empty path.

‘Buen día’ called the kindly man setting up his tienda for the day. His was the only show in town for food or drink, so I stopped a while to chat with Jolmer who walked the next couple of hours with me before we parted at Villa Marcos.

Just ahead of Reliegos, a village that features on movie The Way, the guarda civil parked their van to chat to pilgrims and offer advice about who to call in an emergency. They were kind and engaging, and very happy to stamp our pilgrim credencial. It’s here I reconnected with Jen for the last hour into Mansillas de las Mulas - a cute fortress town with interesting architecture.

Jen jumped when the tiny snake slithered near her foot. I was immediately taking a closer look but they were having none of it.

It was a reminder of how we shed our skin on the way… how we tread more lightly as pilgrims, taking only what we need. It was also the day I decided to leave the French way at Ponferrada and walk the Invierno path to Santiago - shedding my own skin and forging a different path.

I’ve loved seeing familiar faces… but my heart feels drawn to something quieter and a little more inward. I intended to walk the Invierno last time when I followed my heart instead.

#caminofrances

Camino Francés - etapa 17 - to Bercianos del Real Camino

Walking with Evelyn made a nice change from walking solo across the flat plains of the Maseta. The landscape had changed from dramatic fields to monoculture agriculture, often irrigated, and the path is sometimes lined by young plane trees that provide relief from the sun and heat.

We rendezvoused in Moratinos where Matteo was due to set up his wax stamp stall later in the morning. We’d miss him on this walk, sadly. The hobbit house bodegas gave us a spot of entertainment before we moved onto the magnificent Albergue Lagnares for a snack. I wish I’d remembered this place!

I noticed that time and distance fell away with a walking companion to distract you from this pain or that irritation that seemed to magnify in the mind when walking alone.

Sahagún was our major stop on the way today. It’s a sizeable town with good amenities and a railway station to somewhere else. Some Pilgrims stop for the night, but many walk onwards, barely exploring the street art or the other monuments on offer.

Bercianos couldn’t come soon enough with my feet starting to hurt and hunger kicking in. My intuition was to check to see if Evelyn’s albergue had a bed but I ignored it and went with the plan. My place was more prison camp than hostel, with long corridors, 6 to a room (which isn’t too bad) and a lot of signs with all the rules. If there was a night to chuck the payment and leave it was this one!

I stayed on account of having a dinner with all my friends up the road and wandered back just before bed time. How bad could it be, right?

You’ll have to tune in tomorrow to find out!

#caminofrances #caminodesantiago

Camino Frances - etapa 16 - to Ledigos

I thought my Camino was over and I’d need to go home today.
At 6am, everything was packed and ready in my backpack.

I was ready for the 18km walk across the flatlands with no water sources in the bone dry heat.

One thing was missing

My wallet.

I turned the sparse room upside down. I turned my backpack upside down too… but nothing.

My cards hadn’t been used overnight. A small relief when I froze each one.

I retraced my steps around Carrion de los Condes to the restaurant I was at for dinner. Nada. A kind couple gave me €50 and refused let me repay their kindness. Next I walked to the Guarda Civil - closed.

I had an intuitive sense that I should drop into the hotel next to the restaurant from last night. The woman disappeared when I asked about a lost wallet and returned with a man.

“Your wallet was found last night in the plaza. The Guarda Civil searched for you and now it is in another village with them.

They passed my number to the Guarda Civil who called to confirm they had my wallet, and I’d get it back around midday.

When they arrived, they took my passport, gave me my wallet and stood close while I checked the cash and the cards.

“Todos? Tarjetas? Moneda?”

“Todos!” I said.

“Muy bien. Adiós.” They were gone as quickly as they arrived.

It was a moment of pure joy.

I grabbed my backpack and hoofed it down the road to get on the way. It was past 11am and the trail would be stinking hot.

It was.

This is one of the longest stretches without water, but my umbrella shielded me from the worst of it. At the start I chatted with Jolmer from Netherlands but lost him when I stopped at the food van.

On the other side of this long, empty stretch of bone-jarring gravel path, I bought a beer and sat in the shade near a British couple who were waiting for a taxi to Ledigos.

“Do you want to join us?”

“Really?! You know what, it’s been a day. I’d love to!”

A few minutes later we arrived in Ledigos where everyone seemed to know about the Australian guy and his lost wallet.
I spotted Viv, handed her the cash she’d given me with a huge thank you.

Camino magic

#caminofrances

Camino Francés - etapa 15 - to Carrión de los Condes

The most under-rated and least discussed tool for walking the Camino is the humble umbrella, but not just any umbrella… one that specifically protects you from the sun.

There were some laughs and a few sniggers when I first pulled my umbrella out a while back. I didn’t care. When the thunderstorm hit before Estella, my walk continued.

Today, on the Maseta, it came to the rescue against the heat of the sun while I walked the long, straight path from Frómista to Carrion de los Condes.

Eduardo bid me a warm farewell when I left in the darkness and the lightest of misty rain. In the pre-dawn light I could see the pilgrims with their head torches making their way towards the Canal de Castile. Usually my favourite place for watching the sunrise, but there was little to see with the clouds.

I’m part of a new bubble now where the faces I see are my new normal - Jen, Elaine and Brian & Vivienne and John (all from the UK), Elise and Kate (Australia and New Zealand) and others. I met Laura halfway between Carrion de los Condes.

‘You’re Tim from Melbourne? It’s so nice finally meet you. You’re kinda famous on this Camino,’ she said

‘What? Nah… why?’ I asked

‘I’ve heard about you from a few people on the way… all asking if I’ve met you’

‘Probably because we’re both from Melbourne’ I replied

My face must have turned a shade of beetroot, and we wished each other well. It’s likely we’d see each other in the next town.

The towns between Boadilla and Carrion are dominated by their massive Churches, but offer little else.

In Frómista I visit two of the three on account of their relative significance for architecture and cultural history. In Villalcázar de Sirga I stop at Iglesia de Santa María La Blanca, a fortress Church built by the Templars in 1066 and now containing royal tombs.

I was relieved when Carrion de los Condes rose up in the distance. I’d seen the main sights before, giving me the chance to relax a while before dinner with Jen and Vincent.

#caminofrances #caminodesantiago

Camino Francés - etapa 15 - to Boadilla del Camino
Small stones find their way into the far reaches of my boot. Are you the type of person who ignores those stones only to wonder why you got a blister later? I used to be that guy.
I’ve learned my lesson and took a few minutes to clear my shoes many times today, knowing that if I eliminate the irritants now, it will save me a bigger problem later. It’s a change I also see in the bigger picture of my life where I’ve been dealing with the small stuff before it becomes big stuff.
Rather than hit the path immediately today, I took the hard, steep road to the Castillo perched atop the mountain around which the village of Castrojeriz wraps itself. As a strategic fortress it was unmatched in the area - the views were expansive in all directions in the morning light.
Two others also opted for this side quest, yet our timing meant we each had the Castillo to ourselves. From the lookout platform I watched pilgrims approaching from the North East and depart on the other side, looking much like an intermittent trail of ants, there were so few of them.
For most of the day I walked in solitude, loving the expansive views but not enjoying the chill wind that whipped my face, arms and legs.
The Camino hardens after exiting the pueblo of Itero de la Vega - a long winding white path that mercilessly reflects the sun when it appears while gradually leading me through the fields to the crest of a hill. At the top of this final ascent, the path turns to larger stones and rocks that batters the soles of my feet, yet distracts me from the wind and the occasional periods of bright sunshine. This is the stage of the mind for sure. If it was easy, everyone would do it. They don’t. It is hard in a different way to all the other stages.
The welcome from Eduardo at En el Camino was as warm as ever. I wouldn’t stay anywhere else on this leg of the Camino. His chill vibe, welcoming smile and ease with the pilgrims allows everyone to relax. It’s no wonder he gets a mention in the guidebook. I’ll sleep well tonight next to the great Church of Boadilla that stands like a ship in the deserted landscape.
#caminofrances

Camino Francés - etapa 13 - to Castrojeriz
My days tend to begin at 5:00am when I wake up and start preparing to leave. In a dorm, I will have packed my bag the night before and have only my walking clothes and toiletries near to hand.
As silently as possible, I leave the dorm, wash up, check I have all my gear and leave - usually an hour before sunrise.
This morning, I took my time, collecting my things from the opposite side of the double bed I slept in. A huge breakfast was laid out in the dining room for me, and I set off sometime after 8:30am. It felt indulgent to have such a late start!
The mystical maseta is one of my favourite walks. The expansion I feel on the endless plains is hard to describe. So many people either skip it, ride it or bus it. When people tell me that, I ask them what they’re really avoiding, because usually it isn’t the maseta, it’s something within them.
Flowers line parts of the path, which I wasn’t expecting after the heat of the summer - poppies, delicate purple things and a plethora of others.
I meet very few pilgrims again today, sometimes feeling I have these vast plains to myself. I know many will be leaving Burgos for Hontanas, where I too stop for a wander around the village, a meditation in the silence of the Church and a glass of wine in the sun.
The ruins of San Anton rise ahead of me - my penultimate stop for shade and rest in the shadows of this now destroyed convent. Even in its dilapidated state, the ruins are a wonder. I’ve heard the acoustics are still sublime when someone takes the time to sing into the space.
My destination is Castrojeriz, named after the bloody battles fought there - in Arabic it translates as Castro de Xaraiz or ‘bloody Castro’. Today it is one of the larger pueblos on the Maseta with three churches, a convent and the ruins of a castle and a monastery. I had two short visits last time on account of needing medical attention and then to walk through the following day without stopping.
After the efforts of these past days - 100km in 3, I’m looking forward to a later start and a short 20km stroll into Boadilla del Camino.
#caminodesantiago #caminofrances

Interrupting the Camino broadcasts to share some great photos from the sessions on opening your heart, body awareness and creativity that I delivered at Breathe - A Festival of Life in early August.

Big shoutout to photographer James snd @the.breathe.festival for ensuring these and many more wonderful moments from the festival were captured.

Thanks also to @patdivilly for leading the first men’s circle at the event.

#breathe #breathwork #somabreath

Camino Frances - etapa 12 - to Rabe de las Calzadas
I hit the deck while taking a photo when the shots rang out a little too close for comfort. A farmer was out for the birds or the boars - it was anyone’s guess. It was the second day we’d heard the cracks ring out across the fields, but this was a little too close.
My morning opened with glorious pink skies while I traversed the rocky landscape to a cruce at the crest of a hill above Atapuerca. In the silence of the morning, I drew deep breaths of the fresh air, allowing each inhalation to land deep in my body before exhaling and drawing another breath of the cool air. The sky, the air, the peace - sublime incarnate.
On the descent, a movement brought me to a halt. A lone boar crossed the Camino about 100m below me. It too halted, but only long enough to catch my scent on the downwind before scooting off into the bushland. It was a pleasant surprise and a nice change from the occasional mouse, rabbit or cat that darted across my path in the pre-dawn light.
Although I saw a few other pilgrims, I relished the solitude today and limited my engagement so I could soak up the vibe of the path - that was until I spied two from my albergue seemingly entangled in bramble way off the marked path.
‘Took a bit of an off-road detour,’ one said with a laugh.
The Cartuja de Miraflores Monastery was one of the things I truly wanted to see. A gothic palace turned monastery from the 1400’s it has an ornate gold altarpiece and flamboyant carved alabaster mausoleum. It was truly out of the world. An elegant rose scent - not like that fake toilet smell - but real rose permeated the space in the final gallery, adding another dimension to the visual spectacle.
In Burgos I caught up with Evelyn, tried a Hungarian cake (the best!!) on Dóra’s recommendation and hit the path once more for the last stretch to Rabe de las Calzades.
40km was not my intention today - 32 km at best was where I thought I’d land. Serendipitously, I’d booked a room at an albergue I’d stopped for breakfast on my last walk. The owner remembered me, filled up my glass and made sure I was well fed for the evening meal.
#caminofrances #caminodesantiago

Camino Francés - etapa 11 - to Atapuerca

I considered taking the bus today.

‘Is that cheating?’ someone asked.

I don’t know. Is it?

I considered taking the bus because I’ve walked this section in the rain before, and it’s downright awful to slog away through first the black mud, then the orange mud, then the black again.

I walked. It rained for most of the 32km I covered today. The weather drew us all inwards. There was less chat, more contemplation.

A lone kitty wanted nothing more than to be close to the warmth of my body just past the first village after Belorado. Its parting gift was a stamp (paw-print) on one of my straps.

I walked slowly in the misty rain, catching Luke’s gait in the distance. We walked together for a while, in silence (mostly) and it felt good to release the need to speak.

When my poncho was wet through, I unzipped the front to stomach height to free my hands. I didn’t care that it looked like I was wearing a waterproof dress instead - being comfortable was more important. When an old man passed me carrying an umbrella, I remembered my own, transforming that rainy trek up Montes de Oca from a drudgery to something almost pleasant.

In San Juan de Ortega, a small bird appeared almost immediately after I sat down. I offered it crumbs of bread to no avail. When I held some tortilla de patatas in my fingers, it took it immediately, to my amazement. Cute little thing knew exactly what it wanted!

The weather lifted by Ages where Luke and I parted ways. Another pilgrim offered us a photo above the town while his phone played the soundtrack of Lord of The Rings, specifically the closing credits. The fellowship that started to form in Orisson on day 1 had finally ended. I bid Luke farewell and walked on to Atapuerca, knowing that a longer day tomorrow meant I’d likely see fewer familiar faces ahead - maybe.

The Camino has a way of connecting you, disconnecting you, and reconnecting you again later when you least expect it. We have 500km to cover yet!

If letting go is the theme so far, the deeper message seems to be about letting go of attachment to outcome.

Come what may… on the way…I am ready!

#caminofrances #caminodesantiago

Camino Francis - Etapa 10 - to Belorado

The sunflowers are heavy with seed and perpetually face east, bowing their faces towards us. They remind us of the cycles of life, of death, rebirth and renewal. They remind us where we’ve come from, an invitation to look back every now and then.

Sometimes the goofy faces drawn into them make us smile, or the occasional arrow points us on our way. Sunflowers, some as tall as me, have become the staple crop on our walks these past days, and I love seeing the outliers whose faces point towards the sun. Yet another reminder to go your own way, in your own time in life.

The way to Belorado was a mud bath. The overnight rain mingled with the sticky clay, turning our boots into lead weights that needed to be stomped off every now and then.

Over hills and through tiny villages where most things were closed we walked in the misty rain, wishing it would let up. A woman in a cafe pleads for help to find a way for her bicycle that is covered in mud and debris. I feel for her and her hell-ride. We fare little better, but we only have ourselves to worry about.

I braided the way with familiar faces from days past, and with Debbie and Noël - it was the last day we’d walk to the same places at the same pace.

This Camino feels like a long lesson in letting go.

Jen from the US approaches me in the plaza in Belorado to thank me for a sock suggestion I’d made when I saw her browsing the rack in Santo Domingo de la Calzada. It was a tiny exchange, but it had a dramatic impact on her walk.

‘De nada, I’m pleased it worked out,’ I said.

We talked a while… one less stranger on the way to Santiago.

#caminofrances #caminodesantiago #buencamino #hikerguy

Camino Francés - Etapa 9 - to Santo Domingo de la Calzada
The legends of Santo Domingo and his miracles, that of two resurrected chickens, lives on in the town that bears his namesake. Two chickens live in a henhouse in the main cathedral and his image with two chickens is carved or embossed throughout the town.
The sun rose behind the clouds, but the air remained cool and moist while I walked the red earth road through the vineyards of Rioja. It felt odd walking alone in the dawn light without a single pilgrim ahead or behind me.
Friends I’d made in an earlier walk had already left Azofra by the time I arrived in the tiny pueblo, but I caught Luke in the distance. Everything was closed, save for two bars where pilgrims huddled over their morning coffee and pastry or bocadillo.
The rest of the walk was visually barren, and quiet. The man who offers refreshments for a donation seemed to be having a bad day and the gloomy weather dampened the spirits of the moving caravan as much as it did the path we walked.
Luke and I join Noël’s tradition of a push-up on the crest of the second last rise before Santo Domingo de la Calzada - surprised by our strength after almost 20km.
Our destination felt well earned today. Having missed the chance to see the chickens in the henhouse last time, I made my donation to the Church fund and toured great cathedral and its treasures - a building of incredible architectural beauty that took 45 years to complete in the 1500’s.
You’d be forgiven for wondering if I’d suddenly become religious or interested in the scripture. It’s not the case.
In these great stone halls, I find peace, calm and great beauty. I’m fascinated by stone carvings of obscure scenes and mythological creatures that appear more fairytale than real life. The symbology that is so abundant speaks a language to those in the know - I am not one of them.
In the Churches and Cathedrals I can escape the chatter of The Way for moments of peace and tranquility, and a rest for my weary feet.
One third done, two to go…
#caminofrances #caminodesantiago

Some people leave the Camino by choice, others are forced off the path through injury or ill health. Cresting the hill that separates Logroño from Navarrete an ambulance came into view less than 100m ahead of us. The Guarda Civil explained that the pilgrim had broken his tibia, was now in good hands and we should move on quietly to the right of the incident.

Walking past the man, I caught a pained expression on his face and felt shivers move through my body. It was a visceral reminder of the dangers we face - a twist of an ankle, a misplaced foot, lack of attention, or just pushing your body too hard can finish your walk.

This phase to Burgos has been described as the one where the body adapts to the daily routine, where we really have to deal with the physical stuff - pain, blisters, digestion, sleep and stress while we integrate to this new way of being.

The undulating walk into Navarrete and its final ascent tests our resolve. With compañeros like mine, we make light work of it in the end. A local man, Alex, passes and asks if we speak English. I walked with him for more than 1 hours in the Spring so he could practice his English. Too much Spanish for him today.

The Cathedral in Navarrete is the pilgrim’s reward, along with a stamp for our book and a warm drink to fuel the rest of our morning. It was second breakfast after coffee and cake on the Doppelldecker on the outskirts of Logroño. A cute bus/cafe that drew us like moths to its neon lights, bright colours and the promise of coffee for my hung over friends.

By Ventosa’s art walk we’ve collected Joanna and can see back to Navarete and the hill we climbed that morning. Not far now to Najera and our farewell.

Tears flowed freely when we each shared our heartfelt acknowledgment of the gifts the others have brought to our fellowship. No-one expects these deep moments and the sadness one feels to walk alone when your companions have left. This is The Way and it always provides.

Our farewell memories will include a free concert on the increíble cathedral, pizza, beers, tears and laughter. I will miss these sweet souls tomorrow.

#caminofrances #caminodesantiago #caminofrances2024 #hikerguy #hikergay

Etapa 7 - to Logroño
Centipedes replace snails on our dreamy walk from Torres del Rio to Logroño - another of Spain’s foodie capitals in the region of Rioja - better known for its fantastic red wine. Even at €1,40 per glass it’s pretty good!
An evening thunderstorm failed to clear the air, and most of us had a hot and disrupted night. By dawn the humidity was above 90%, making our walk feel more like a trek through the jungles of Asia, than a long hike across the wine-growing region in the north of Spain.
We larked about with sunrise photos, berry picking and chats with other pilgrims, lengthening our walk, yet deepening our connections.
A discernible shift occurred in our group after the long walk from Estella. Everyone is more relaxed, hearts are more open and we laugh a lot more. One of the things I love the most about the Camino is finding your people, where you get to be yourself without apology..
More than one of has described the walk as being like Lord of the Rings with Bilbo and Sam, only we are four not 2. Falling in with a group two Spanish speakers has forced me to improve my use of the language. Luke has helped all of us with his exceptional translation skills so that nuance isn’t entirely lost.
The patchwork of bush land and vineyards on the rolling hills make up for longer stretches along the now harvested grain fields. Amidst the foilage we have some respite from the heat of the sun.
By midday,Pilgrims are resting in an underpass, escaping the heat - only 2 days ago, it was to escape the rain.
In Viana, we find an imposing Cathedral under maintenance. It was one of the more famous cathedrals in its time, and even now it is filled with interesting treasures and an impressive series of lead-light windows. Two women sit inside offering a stamp for the pilgrim credencial and a kind buen camino.
Logrono’s pinxtos bars give Pamplona some good competition. Our favourite was a place that only served grilled mushrooms, basted in a garlic and wine (?) sauce. The recipe’s a secret.
It’s a well-earned feast after the day’s hot walk and follow on explorations of the city sights - mainly churches 😂
#caminofrances

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