Along the Way

Tell Your Story Walking – El Camino Primitivo 2025

October 9th, 2025

Oviedo

We started in the city of Oviedo , which is in the Spanish region of Asturias. Somewhat accidentally, Asturias had an important role in the development of Spain as a unified nation. Actually, around the year 700, Spain was already politically unified , as part of the Umayyad Caliphate.
Prior to that, after the fall of the Roman empire, Iberia was a complex, ever-changing mosiac of kingdoms composed of Visigoths, Vandals, Alans, Suevi, and others.
Located in the far northeast of Spain, Asturias was the first region to revolt against Caliphate rule. The specific issue that triggered the rebellion was taxes. Very gradually, more of Spain left Caliphate rule, as the kingdoms of Leon, Castille and Navarra became independent, and eventually coalesced together. 770 years later, this process, called the Reconquista, was complete.

Oviedo is commonly the starting point of a route to Santiago called the Camino Primitivo . The ‘Primitivo’ part of the name is due to the fact that this was the first route to the city of Santiago after the remains of St. James were announced as being buried there, around the year 811. In fact this was the only route safely possible at that time, when almost all of what we now call Spain was controlled by the Umayyad Caliphate. The Camino Primitivo route is thus tied into the history of the development of Spain as a nation.

Once out of Oviedo, we encountered gentle walking through a wooded countryside.

Hospitales

The stage from the tiny village of Borres, to the town of Berducedo, took us up to what is called the “Hospitales” route.

The old term ‘hospital’ here more refers to our English sense of ‘hospitality’ , that is, a place for refuge and accomodation, rather than the purely medical modern English term of ‘hospital’. There are the ruins of three hospitales on the route we took that day. The last one ceased operating at the beginning of the 20th century. They are quite small and broken down, and populated by cows. Only one appeared to still have any kind of roof.

I did not find the uphill climb, while long, to be all that challenging in terms of steepness or footing.
(There is however an unbelievably steep and rocky straight-down descent after a place called Puerto del Palo.) The challenge is more a lack of services of any kind for 27 km, that is, not even water or a restroom. So it is best to be really ready when setting out in the early morning hours. ( There is an alternative route which passes through a town called Pola de Allande. )

In contrast to other stages, there is not much vegetation of any size on the higher parts of the route.

There is a pleasant, flat grassy area with expansive views , to be found about midway .

Hospital de Montouto

After the town of Fonsagrada there is a hill, upon which are stone walls which are the remains of a old pilgrim accommodation called the Hospital de Montouto. This was founded in 1357 and was still in use as late as the mid-20th century. There is also a megalithic monument nearby, and an hermitage which is the destination of an annual procession from a nearby town.

We did not end up seeing any of that however. Just as we approached the top of the hill, a driving rain started coming down. As it happened, the path continued up to a particularly exposed area, as the rain turned into hail. Looking around for any kind of shelter, we spotted a small structure to the right. This turned out to be a chapel, which already had several pilgrims standing under the narrow eaves. The chapel was locked, and as the storm intensified, we got colder and colder standing there. As the wind picked up, and more people arrived, it became more difficult for everyone to take shelter. A Spanish pilgrim noticed that the wooden bars of one chapel window had been broken into some time ago. She clambered through the window, and we all eventually followed, taking care not to impale ourselves on the jagged pieces of the wooden bars. A German pilgrim arrived, took a wry look inside and commented “I have never seen a church so full!” Some pilgrims had no rain gear at all, and were at definite risk of hypothermia, but some spare clothing was lent to them by other pilgrims.

After the storm passed, we continued down the hill and before too long, found a warm and cozy cafe where everyone stopped to warm up and get something to eat.

Lugo

Upon reaching the center of the city of Lugo, what is immediately striking is the immense wall completely encircling it. At 50 ft in height , it looks more impressive than that figure indicates. Built by the Romans in the 3rd Century, and impressively broad, one can easily imagine it accommodating a chariot or two, as one takes a tour around the city atop it.

Having a look at the history of Lugo, one can appreciate that this wall was put there for a reason.

Lugo was founded around 14 A.D. by the Romans ,on the site of former Bronze Age hill fort, as a camp for a half-legion of Roman soldiers. This was part of a plan by Caesar Augustus to exploit this region as a colony for mineral wealth (as was the plan elsewhere in what is now Spain.) The promise of mineral riches did not pan out, but the surrounding Galician countryside provided good farmland.

Over subsequent centuries, the area was fought over and conquered with battles involving the native peoples of area, the Romans, the Suevi (a now-forgotten tribe from central Germany), Visigoths, Berbers, Arabs, and Asturians, with endless turmoil and strife within each ruling group.
There is even a period of a century 400-500 A.D. in which no written record at all exists of what was happening in the city. In terms of the Reconquista, by 740 the kingdom of Galicia was formed , with Lugo as its capital. It was then more or less safe to pass through Lugo on the way to Santiago, when the Camino Primitivo route got started in the early 800s.

Melide

At the town of Melide, the Camino Primitivo joins the Camino Frances route. The Camino Frances route is much more popular and has been ever since the route was no longer under Arab control.
By the year 910, all the Camino Frances route was under the control of Spanish kingdoms (Galicia, Leon, Navarre).

Walking the Camino Primitivo, until we reached Melide we tended to reencounter the same 25 or so people each day. By contrast, on the Camino Frances we became immersed in a larger stream of hundreds of pilgrims.
Nothing To See Here (I work as Hospitalero)

July 24th, 2025
There did not seem to be a way to get there. No train connection, and the one and only bus connection arrived in the afternoon, too late for when I was expected. I resorted to calling for a taxi from the closest city. Even so, the driver had never heard of the town to which I was asking him to drive me.
That might be understandable, when one considers the size of that town. The number of people is listed officially as less than 200, but it appears to be even lower. There is hardly anyone to be seen on the streets, regardless of time of day. It’s a village in the middle of a seemingly endless, flat expanse of wheat fields.

Back in the 20th Century, when Francisco Franco was in power, the goal of his ruling party was to populate the countryside with peasant farmers, each with a small but adequate plot of land. This ideal was not shared by the actual population itself, which as soon as it could, migrated to cities such as Barcelona and Bilbao, in search of a better life. Increased mechanization also steadily decreased the number of people required to work in agriculture. The result now throughout Spain, is a large number of depopulated towns. The houses here in this town, I am told, are frequently inherited and kept by people who live and work most of the time in cities like Madrid. Those that remain seem to be mostly of an impressively advanced age. As a result of the small population, the town cannot support a pharmacy, or clinic, or ATM, or supermarket, or even a church service. It does have a small food market, and a few bars and four pilgrim accommodations, called albergues. The reason there are albergues here at all is that this is the first town of any description in 20 km from the previous town.

I arrived at the albergue, which is a 350-year-old former rectory. The associated church is long since gone. I had stayed at the albergue 2 years before when walking the camino, and enjoyed the atmosphere there. As before, fast-swooping, twittering birds darted in and out of the eaves above. I later identified them as swifts. I met the two other hospitaleras. They were very effusive and friendly. One is from Spain and the other from Brazil. As it happens, neither speaks English, and my Spanish is still a work in progress. However it transpired that one had studied French in school, as I had, and we ended up using that language to communicate. The other hospitaleras from the previous period were still there, but were sick, and withdrew to their rooms as soon as possible. So there was not much of a chance for a transfer of information regarding how to run the various operations at the albergue. We therefore needed to resolve questions and issues as they arose.

First day as hospitalero

We get phone calls from people requesting to make a reservation. I explain that this type of accomodation, called a donativo, does not take reservations. People are required to arrive in person. This is in keeping with the tradition of such places on the Camino de Santiago.

By late morning, people have arrived, and there is a line of backpacks outside the door. This is how the pilgrims self-organize in terms of getting a place in the albergue. In the meantime we have made a shopping trip to the nearest supermarket, which is in a neighboring town, We somehow fit four shopping-carts-worth of food into a tiny car, along with ourselves.

We have a sign on the door to the effect that we open the door at 1:30 PM. But before that, as we are getting ready, someone pushes in through the heavy 350-year-old door, letting in the glare and heat from outside. It turns out to be an older French gentleman who seems somewhat confused and may be suffering from heat exhaustion. We give him some cold water with lemon to drink.

When we finally do open the door, the pilgrims enter in an orderly fashion. Even though they may be tired, overheated, hungry and dehydrated, and somewhat worried about finding a bed for themselves here, the pilgrims are almost without exception patient, calm, and polite. For our part we try to take time to welcome each one and find something special about them and yet keep the registration line moving quickly.

Big Night

One afternoon, there were already about 25 pilgrims at the start of check-in . The question came up as to what is the maximum number of pilgrims that we can accommodate.
The answer was not as simple as expected. We had not actually gotten that information from the previous hospitalero group. We go off and quickly count beds in the dormitory rooms. We can see from the line at registration that we are going to exceed that number. The hospitalero/as have each been sleeping in separate rooms, which have additional beds in them. We kick ourselves out of those rooms, and give them over to pilgrims, which gives us more beds available overall. Soon we see that we will overflow this number as well. One hospitalera says that this is where we should say that we are full. I point out something in a general information letter we had received, which states that, if at all possible, we should not “leave anyone on the street”. We hear that the other (private) albergues in town are full. We do have a quantity of mattresses in a back room. Thus, we fill that room with those. Still more are arriving though. We have one more room in which we could place mattresses, but another hospitalera says that we should not do that, because it is used as a chapel. I send a message to the local person in charge and get the go-ahead to do that as well.
With so many people, we have a greater variety of activities in the afternoon and evening. Some of the younger pilgrims have sufficient energy after their long hike, to give each other salsa lessons in the patio area. Meanwhile another young man (from France, and who is a singer-songwriter), upon finding a guitar here, gives an impromptu concert inside.

Dinner for 51

This night I get to be the chef, with some help from other hospitaleras, and pilgrims.

We don’t really know how many people we are cooking for. So, I have a look at the registration sheet at about 4 PM, make an estimate, and scale the recipe from that.

I have a recipe with lentils, tortellini, tomatoes, and spinach, which I think should work well. It presents no issues for those that are vegetarian yet has enough protein.

We have a deadline of 7PM when the pilgrims come into the dining room and we should start serving. I can start cooking at 5PM when the pilgrims help with chopping the onions and garlic.

We find it very hard to light the stove burners, and in the end can only get one burner going. I suspect that the gas pressure might be an issue, but we can’t get to agreement on trying to fix that right now.

Everything goes into one giant pot. 6 PM and 6:30 PM go by, the lentils have not gotten much softer. I had bought cans of whole tomatoes, instead of diced, because they make for a nicer texture than the diced ones. But that does mean that we must empty all the cans into bowls and attack the individual tomatoes with mixing utensils, in order to break them up, which takes some time.
7 PM is approaching and the lentils are still too hard. Nevertheless, it is time to add the spinach. We had bought packages of frozen spinach. I had confidently assured the others that the frozen bricks would unfreeze as soon as they were dumped into the pot. Instead, they remain stubbornly frozen, like a flotilla of green icebergs. There is nothing for it but to start smashing them in the boiling pot, with our serving spoons, to break them up.

Meanwhile, Some Italians have found the guitar and have started singing outside the window of the kitchen. It gets to be 7PM . As it turns out there is a bit more time for cooking, because we start with a welcome, introductions, and then serve salad and wine. In the end, we can serve the meal without any delay, and the pilgrims are very complimentary and effusive in their thanks.

Expect the World

I got to chat with and get to know people from many different countries, such as Denmark, France, Germany, Italy, Ireland, Japan, Korea, Taiwan, PRC, Brazil, Guatemala, Hungary, the USA and Canada .

I appreciated the people who came to hear me play guitar in the chapel each evening, and the energy of the young people who happily covered 50km a day, and those who shared their heartfelt stories at the sharing circle.

I got to hear tales from world travelers, for example exploring the north in Canada, Alaska, Iceland, and Greenland, living in an ashram in India , and trekking monthslong through South America.

I had the opportunity to help pilgrims in many , small ways, such as …
- helping an injured man from Brittany find an albergue for the next day which was not too far away.
- Help an Australian man w/ no cash, get access to some (cab driver as ATM!)
- call a taxi for a group of Canadians who had had to backtrack to find beds
- provide ice and stock first aid supplies for those who needed them.
This town would not be a sightseeing destination. There are no sights.
What is special here, are all the interactions between people. And those connections don’t really show up in photos.
El Camino del Norte – All Roads Lead to Laredo?

May 26th, 2025

April 12, 2024

I had been advised, or rather warned, that many of the paths on the Camino del Norte were “asphaltiert” (paved over) instead of being softer, dirt paths. This came home to me today as I came out from Islares with the goal of reaching the city of Laredo. The path led away from the coast, as the weather turned sunnier and markedly warmer. I found myself walking along the side of a busy highway and came to a crossroads with indications in more than one direction, as to what the camino to Laredo was. Not especially convinced, I and others chose one road and pressed on. Eventually this led to a small village, also with yellow-arrow signage leading in multiple directions . Consulting my Camino apps, of which I had at this point three different ones, I was offered three different paths. We ran into some other pilgrims , who had been told by locals that the correct path was along a certain way, and were headed in that direction. I was unconvinced , mainly because the path seemed to be leading back to Islares. Given that there seemed to be so many Camino del Nortes to choose from, I decided to lead us (myself and two other pilgrims) along another path . The heat and glare from the sun was now increasing to the extent that it was not pleasant to stand around deliberating.
The path turned steeply upward into an area with more tree cover. Again the road split into two, both uphill, and both with camino signage.

The midday heat was increasing. There also started to be a discussion regarding my decision to take this current path. The wisdom of my leading us up this hillside with roads leading everywhere and nowhere, was called into question, and found fundamentally wanting.
The group atmosphere was becoming noticably less comfortable. We were now next to a farmhouse, with a lady working outside. Not knowing what else to do, I decided to try my limited Spanish to ask for advice regarding which way to take.

The response came in a sonorous torrent of words, of which I could not understand a single one. She repeated, and I now thought that I recognized in the maelstrom of sounds, the word coche – which is one of the Spanish words for “car”. I was not sure why she was talking about a car, since I did not see one, we did not have one or any way to acquire one. Patiently she offered more streams of words, and I eventually discerned that she was offering to drive us to Laredo!
More than happy to take her up on her offer, we arrived in Laredo and checked into an albergue, formerly a convent, where we were received without ceremony.

Given that we had covered some of the distance by car, there was still time to walk a bit on a huge beach in front of the city.
El Camino del Norte – San Sebastián to Bilbao – Here I go again on my own

November 30th, 2024

Leaving San Sebastián, I soon encountered a path along the coast, which is described in one of my references as a medieval road, preserved more or less the way it was originally. I did not take a photo of it, but it was a steep, cobbled way about the width of a modern one-lane road or fire road .

Below is a more modern path along bluffs overlooking the Atlantic, and a hidden surf spot.

The most common albergue for this stage (really almost the only one) is located at a train station. Actually, directly above the train station. I was worried that trains would wake me up throughout the night, but trains passing through this small town turned out to be few and far between. Ominously though, I noticed on arrival, a street crossing next to the station which was periodically clanging , flashing and calling out instructions whenever people crossed the street, and indeed even when people did not. This system did in fact unfailingly perform throughout the night. Fortunately for me however, although the snoring extremist from the night before was there, he was in another room.

Once inside, I felt for the first time on this trip, that indefinable but instantly recognizable Camino vibe, with the energy of groups of people from all over Europe, and different age groups , coming in and setting themselves up in a warren of small, dormitory-style spaces.

The photo below gives an idea of what this section of the Camino del Norte is like, when you are not right along the coast or in one of the seaside towns. Rugged and natural, with few habitations or facilities along the way. Gives rise to an exciting feeling of being “out there” , especially when solitary walking.

I encountered this stretch, below. If you were going to design a path surface which was maximally uncomfortable and difficult for pilgrims to navigate, what size of building material would you use for the surface? Too small, and it would be easy to walk on, like gravel. Too large, and it would be like strolling on flagstones. However, if you make the stones about the size of a human foot , you can maximize the changes of a turned ankle, on this steep descent. Fortunately, a colorful turquoise rope was provided.

I encountered animals right along the path from time to time, including these curious ones.

Walking down into Guernica. This is the city which was terribly bombed in 1937. In the town there are some plaques and memorials to be seen. By this time I was walking along with a couple of people whom I had met. Just on entrance to the town we saw a restaurant serving a ‘Pilgrims menu’. We passed it by and continued into the center of town, blithely assuming that we would of course find something better, not realizing that every other restaurant would be closed because it was a Sunday. Also, the city’s only albergue was closed indefinitely for some reason. Thus everyone had to make do with pensions / small hotels.

Arriving at Bilbao, I was struck by the number of red and white flags covering residential buildings, stores, municipal buildings, even a hospital. Was there some sort of revolution occurring here? It turned out the national soccer championship finals were going on, and Bilbao’s own team was very much in the running . It was explained that it was a particular point of pride that all the players on the team were born in the Basque Country.

I found Bilbao to be remarkably compact for such an energetic and cosmopolitan place.
April 3, 2024 – First Day on the Camino del Norte

August 16th, 2024

After a flight from San Francisco to Munich, and then Bilbao, I arrived by bus in Irun, a town on the French-Spanish border. A total of three pilgrims emerged from the bus into a gray and drizzly day. All were recently arrived from the US, and in a somewhat jet-lagged state. We helped each other get oriented towards the various places that we would stay in overnight, before beginning the Camino del Norte the following morning.

I had chosen the municipal albergue, which I thought would be a good idea in terms of meeting people, since I was starting this section alone. I was met by two friendly hospitalero/a s, who were excited and eager to help check me in. It was the very beginning of the Camino season for them, this being only April 2. It’s a dormitory-style accomodation that has 60 beds on two floors, around a circular, rotunda-like common area. The hospitalero remarked that he would wake us all up with heavy-metal music on a loudspeaker, at 6 AM. Later I put together enough Spanish to ask him how many people are staying there that night, and he replied that there were 25 people.

The hospitalero also kindly let me know where I could find a grocery store nearby so I could cook something for myself for dinner. I had decided to try to make an effort to continue to eat vegetarian even on the Camino. Cooking for myself, rather than going to restaurants or bars, made that easier.

The other pilgrims there that night seemed to be mainly good natured, middle-aged or older Spanish and French guys. I considered that if this is it how it is going to be along the Camino route, I will improve my Spanish and French conversation. Their own enthusiastic exchanges did reverberate powerfully in the dome-like common area.

In the initial days of a journey, I tend to wake up in the morning not having any idea where I am. Awakening to metal music from Linkin Park in the 6 AM darkness intensified this feeling, until I remembered what the hospitelero had said the night before. The rotunda-shaped common area seemed to shape and focus the sound into a swirling, churning, echoing melange.

There was a breakfast provided by the hospitalero. Even though it was just bread and jam from the supermarket, and percolated coffee, I tried to appear enthusiastic and grateful. It was actually nice that a hospitalero was actually there in the morning at all. Often, in my experience, they are not among those present, in those early morning hours.

I started out from Irun on paved roads, curving and climbing uphill. I was excited to finally begin the actual walking.
I came across a French man who I had seen last night, gesticulating, exclaiming and conversing in a friendly way with myself, other pilgrims, and indeed, no one in particular.
The road flattened out and came to a church where most pilgrims stop,
called the Santuario de Guadalupe. There I saw again a nice young couple with colorful tatoos, who had paused for a smoking break.
Shortly after the church came a fork in the road. There are two ways towards San Sebastian along an extensive ridge, one being a relatively wide gravel road which is below the ridgeline slightly inland, and another, somewhat higher one which winds exactly along the ridgeline. I chose the higher one because the weather was clear, promising expansive views out over the Atlantic, back towards the hills of France, and west towards San Sebastian.

Having met a lady when getting water at a fountain, my French was enough for her to make clear to me that she was Basque (not French or Spanish, mind you), lived close by in France, and was planning to do the Camino in week-long sections.

The path was narrow, steep, rocky and uneven, often following the ridge line like a knife edge.
Looking down from the ridge line, the ocean showed as deep blue, dotted with cargo ships, under a clear sky, with a brisk wind. In the other direction, looking inland , a range of higher mountains was visible.

After continuing on the ridge for quite a while (about 15 km overall from start), I started descending, on rough switchbacks. I eventually came rather abruptly out of a forest, into an urban environment with a school, housing, busy intersections, parks and everything else – an area called Pasajes de San Juan.

I sat down on a bench to rest, and chatted with a Belgian guy who was also there. We agreed that this was already enough for a first day’s hike. As I saw later, Pasajes had a nice old town by the harbor, and I could have stayed in that town. But San Sebastian beckoned, although my destination was still 10 kilometers away. There was no Camino signage that I could find, so I just used the smartphone to navigate through the city to the day’s destination, an albergue at the far end of San Sebastian.

Midway, there is a short ferry to find. The ride is curiously short, in a tiny launch, across a sort of narrow estuary. I was going to take a photo from the launch, but by the time I got ready, the boat trip was already over. I felt that constructing a bridge here would not be out of the question.

Continuing on through the city, I eventually found myself on one of the main boulevards of San Sebastian, heading towards the beach on the La Concha bay. Passing by the sleek clothing stores, restaurants and bars in my pilgrim attire of backpack, floppy hat, and trekking poles, I felt a just a bit self-conscious, and did not spend a lot of time there. The boulevard ended at a wide beach with beautiful golden sand, featuring a picturesque island in the middle of the bay.

I walked along a sidewalk above the beach before finally finding my accomodation for the night at a youth hostel. It has 100 beds, but had only 6 people staying there that night – it was only the second day of being open for the season, as the friendly staff explained. I ran into the Belgian guy again, who was intent on finding a restaurant, however I had decided to make dinner for myself once more. In the kitchen /dining area there were only two people , both Americans. I chatted briefly with one of them, who complained of the difficulty of the day’s route, and the weight of his pack.

In the night I had to use all my anti-snorer techniques. One guy in the room became so notorious later on the Camino, that people would switch accommodations (not to say cities) to avoid him.
And This Is … ?

June 22nd, 2024

If you walk a Camino route in Spain and come into a city, you will find yourself being recommended to visit a certain area of the city for tapas or pinchos. It didn’t seem to matter much which term is used for them. What these actually consist of varies quite a lot. They could appear like this in a fancy bar …

Or can appear more like sandwiches …

Or even just be fried potatoes …

I have read that historically , drinks were required by law to be served with tapas. I don’t know whether this is true or not. But in a small farming town, I encountered what looks like the legally minimum tapa.

The names of the tapas/pinchos are sometimes listed outside the bars.

But the tapas in the glass case in the bar are not always labelled so it is not easy to tell which is which. And anyway the names don’t always indicate what they are made of. “Torreznos de soria” anyone ?

And then if you are in the Basque Country… Have a favorite pincho? Ask for it by name !

Each city tends to have a known place for drinking and tapas/pinchos – for some examples: Bilbao : Plaza Nueva , Logroño : Calle Laurel, Burgos : Calle San Lorenzo, León – Barrio Húmido.

My tapas encounters went something like this…
Having arrived at an albergue tired and dehydrated, it seems like it might be nice to find the tapas area.
Some people I know or have met on the camino may already be down there.
But first, need to change clothes. Actually before I can do that, I must take a shower, and also wash the day’s clothes. However to find the clean clothes, I need to unpack the backpack and organize items. But wait, the only place to do organizing (the only private area) is the top of the bed assigned to me. So before unpacking, I need to make up the bed from the bare mattress.

Having done all that, I start navigating with an app using the street address.
It’s early evening. Which means that while perhaps still warm outside, it will be less blindingly sunny, with more of a golden light. This makes for nice conditions whereby seemingly everyone in the city, from small children to 90-somethings in wheelchairs, to take the paseo or evening stroll.

I locate the tapas area, which turns out to be small side street with many bars having narrow entrances. There is a mixture of bewildered tourists and locals milling up and down. It is getting darker now and the bars are dimly lit inside and crowded.

Which bar should I venture into? I have no idea, so I choose one randomly.
There are people thronging the bar, calling to a single harried server for some food items hidden behind them. What is it that they are clamoring for so loudly?
Generally speaking, the less noise and confusion, the better, in my view.
Tourists have come here to Spain and have not learned any Spanish at all beforehand, so are pointing at food items and speaking in English.

I ask what some tapas item is and informed that it is made from a pig’s nose. No thanks.
Another pilgrim gamely orders something with greyish tentacles. It is chaotic enough that I am at a loss and just get a tinto de verano (red wine drink).

I find a table with four nice Englishmen who I had met before. I start to have a nice conversation, despite the crush of people and the din, until a service person comes over and says, “You cannot have five people here! You must move.”

You know, I think he might be right.

Vamos.
A Day In The Life

June 10th, 2024
I recently volunteered at an albergue (pilgrim accomodation) on the Camino de Santiago. People who work at such a place in Spain are known as hospitaleros/as.

The days went like this:

At 6 AM my Iphone alarm goes off . It is time to unlock the albergue doors so that pilgrims can get on the road. As I come downstairs, there are already a few people getting ready, re-packing their backpacks. I make coffee for anyone who wants some, from the ‘Moka’ coffee makers on hand in the kitchen . Then wish buen camino to the people that I had met the day before.

One reason why some people get going so early, is that so they can arrive at their day’s destination before the afternoon, at which time many restaurants and shops tend to close until 8 or 9 PM. Something like 6 or 7 hours of time would typically be involved in travelling what is usually somewhere between 15 and 30 kilometers per day.

One morning a few people requested going even earlier than 6 AM, because the sky was clear, and they wanted to see and follow the stars east to west in the classic fashion.

By 8:30 all the pilgrims are on their way.

At 9:30 there is some general cleanup work for the albergue, such as disinfecting beds and sweeping/mopping floors , divided up among the hospitaleros/as.

By 11:30 pilgrims have started arriving in town in order to stay the night, and are either at cafes in town, or waiting in a line outside the albergue. In old-school fashion, there are no reservations taken. At this time of year the albergue only ends up being about half full. People tend to keep arriving until about 5 PM.

At 12 PM we open the doors of the albergue. Since they are pilgrims finishing the day’s walking, they tend to be pretty tired, hot, hungry and generally uncomfortable and are just looking to get assigned a bed as soon as possible. Unfortunately we have to first ask them quite a few questions, as required by police officials. Walking the Camino is considered very safe, and the Spanish authorities have an interest in keeping it that way.
People are for the most part, pretty patient with the following process…
- We ask if they would like tea or coffee
- explain about how to self-register, using their smartphone. This turns out to be easy or impossibly complicated, depending on the person.
- after the registration form is filled in, we ask for the passport and check it against number given in the form.
- stamp pilgrim credential.
- ask if they want a sleep sheet.
- take payment.
- assign bed. This is done on paper and we have to be careful to get this right.
- give basic info about the albergue – where the beds, kitchen and laundry are.
- explain about activities and events later on in the evening, such as a sharing circle.
People appear with passports from the Netherlands, Germany, USA, Australia, Hungary, Canada, Latvia,
Korea, Taiwan, France, Spain , Portugal, Italy, England, Ireland, and others. The hospiteros/as are all multilingual and connect with pilgrims in their native language when possible.

One older portuguese man explains that he is walking in the reverse direction, that is, away from Santiago, which is quite rare. He plans to arrive eventually in Barcelona and then go by sea towards Rome. He then spoke somewhat disparagingly of pilgrims who in his mind, behave just like normal tourists.

Another somewhat unkempt, bearded man arrives with a large, dusty backpack, and mentions that he is on his “26th Camino”. The hospitalera whispers to me that this is a “lifestyle” pilgrim (essentially, a homeless person). Apparently not unknown on the Camino, but I only encountered one person like him.

One young person needs to wash all their clothes, and after starting laundry, goes around in the albergue draped in a sleeping bag.

A different, very fit young person arrives, and if I understood correctly , mentions proudly that they have walked more than 40 km that day, and are keeping up that pace every day.

At the sharing circle, a common question for people is why they are out here on the Camino.
People give responses ranging from I don’t know, or just wanting to hike, to life transitions, to personal loss.

At this point on the Camino, many people have formed groups. They go food shopping at a supermarket, then cook dinner together. I notice people especially from Italy, the Netherlands , France, and Korea. Proceedings are sometimes a bit chaotic in the relatively small kitchen, and at other times quite orderly.

Someone finds a guitar and starts singing and playing, which makes for a nice ambience as people eat dinner.

At 10 PM I lock the doors of the albergue.
Leaning into the Tower of Babel

April 1st, 2024

For travel to Europe I thought it would be helpful to improve my grasp of Spanish, French and German. I find that a good way to learn is listening to audio in podcast form.

One of the first surprises I encountered was in a French podcast, in which the phenomenon of “verlan” was explained. With verlan, in spoken language, the syllables of many words are sometimes reversed , for example tromé = métro) , chanmé = méchant (mean) Yes, that’s right , the French are going out of their way to make their language more difficult to understand!

There is also the subtle issue of certain words which don’t change the literal meaning of the sentence, but which are inserted into sentences , to convey the speaker’s attitude or feeling. Linguist John McWhorter says that these are referred to as “pragmatic particles”. I think that only native speakers really understand how to do this correctly.

As in for instance doch, or mal in German , which depending on the context can convey a softening of the expression, or on the other hand, a disputatious tone.

The pragmatic particles may not have any conceptual meaning in and of themselves.

French has such particles too, (enfin , quoi) and even (to give conversation a French-intellectual twist) genre.

I have found that English words can be imported into other languages in a somewhat unsteady fashion. Listening to a German conversation about an infant, I was non-plussed to hear someone comment that the “body” fits the child (how could it not?), whether they should change the body (not possible!) and even referring to a new body (well, it is an infant after all). After making these objections , I came to know that they were referring to a type of one-piece outfit for infants called a bodysuit.

In a Spanish podcast conversation I heard someone ask “What reality can you recommend?” And the person replying refers to ‘ a very famous reality’ (un reality tan famoso), and even (and this, I think is too much) her favorite reality . I tried to hold on to the normal concept of reality, and eventually gathered that they were discussing “reality show” TV programs.

I find that Spanish grammar is not hard to get your head around – with the occasional mind-boggling exception. For one, what corresponds to English “usually “, is a verb, not an adverb, with a full set of conjugations like other Spanish verbs. Thus suele tomar cafe is literally something like “he usuallys (!) to drink coffee.”

Also, it appears that centuries ago, Spanish grammarians all got together and solemnly decided 1) We will use the letter ‘h’ 2) we will use it in important words like haber and hacer which are used in every conversation and 3) we will never, ever pronounce it.

In French It is very common to use on (one) to mean nous (we, us) . For example you can hear “On va? ” (Literally, is someone going?) instead of the more direct Allons (Let’s go!)

This leads however to a pretty striking statement which I heard on a French podcast:

Aujourd’hui, sur la planète, on est très nombreux.

Today on the planet, one is very numerous.

On est entre 7 et 8 milliards …

One is between 7 and 8 billion ….

I must object to this on purely mathematical grounds!
Sept. 21-26 2022 – Sarria to Santiago de Compostella

February 10th, 2024

We had been informed (not to say forewarned) that the final stretch of the Camino de Santiago between Sarria and Santiago de Compostela has many more people on it than the rest of the way.

Coming out of the albergue in Portomarin in the early morning darkness, with L. and D., looking for a place for breakfast , we found a cafe. Ominously, a bus was parked near it. We found a place to sit in the cafe but were then told to leave (!) – I guessed that there was some kind of bus tour that had booked the entire cafe. We found something to eat in a nearby hotel, where the welcome was not much friendlier, but we were at least allowed to stay and get something to eat before starting.
As we left at 8 AM, it appeared that the doors of every albergue and cafe (and bus) in town swung open, and walkers headed out all at once in a single file threading down out of the town.

Outside Castromaior, about 350 meters off the Camino, we found an amazing archaeological site . There is an ancient hill fort with buildings dating from the Iron Age (2,400 years ago) as well as from the Roman period. There was no visitor infrastructure around it, we were free to simply explore it in the early morning Galician mist.

We came across this wonderful donativo rest stop. There were all kinds of delicious food offerings, and a quiet and beautiful back garden. All provided for whatever donation we wanted to give, by a kind gentleman.

L. and D. and I stopped at an attractive cafe right alongside the Camino. We sat outside on a stone wall drinking coffee , and we got chatting with an American man who had retired to Spain and now lives on the Costa del Sol. He asked me if I had an injury , if anything was broken in my body. I said I was fine, thanks, and he appeared a bit disappointed. He then exclaimed “If anything is broken, I can heal it! In Jesus’ name! With my touch!”. We said polite goodbyes and headed down the road immediately.

The number of people on the walking in this stretch was never really extreme for my taste, but it did vary strangely. It seemed that some groups of people were getting onto the Camino from buses or vans, walking for a while, and then getting picked up again later, a bit off the Camino. Thus groups of people would appear and disappear even more frequently than on earlier stages of the Camino. We talked to a group of people from one such van, and they asked where we were staying. We started to explain about the albergues, and one person asked, “What is an albergue”?

We got into our day’s destination town of Arzua early, and after finding the albergue, we had time to explore the town. We saw some sound equipment being set up on the plaza, and after inquiring with some local people there, found that there was going to be a concert at 8 PM. We returned then, and found the whole town there, with people of all ages enjoying a concert of folk music with singers and Galician bagpipers in full costume.

On the last day, we made our way into the outskirts of the city Santiago de Compostela . It finally got to be a significant procession of pilgrims threading its way through the winding streets of the old city center. I noticed local people looking down with what looked like approval, from the upper stories of the 17th and 18th century buildings on either side of the streets.

We entered a passageway which opened out onto a large square called the Plaza del Obradoiro , in front of the Cathedral . We put down our packs , sat or laid down and took in the scene. There were already many groups of pilgrims celebrating there in the sun, and as we relaxed there we could see more of them coming through the entrances to the plaza, with different entrances corresponding to different routes to Santiago across Europe, such as the Camino Frances and the Camino Portuguese.

You may also encounter a surprising number of other pilgrims that you have met before somewhere along the way, right there at the Plaza at the same moment. And for people that you don’t know, when you watch the interactions as people arrive, you can imagine the events, places, people, difficulties, and high points that they experienced over the long path across Spain or even further.

The city of Santiago was overall beautiful and charming, but more than any place else, we found ourselves returning again and again to the same Plaza del Obradoiro, to see the pilgrims who continuously arrive throughout the day. The community feeling, almost euphoria, was like nothing else I have experienced.
April 27-29, 2023 – Herrerias to Sarria – Lost in Translation

January 4th, 2024

The way up from Herrerias towards a high point at O Cebreiro was steep and stony. As we passed alongside a village, one of the pilgrims in our group remarked that this was a place “wo füchse und hase begraben sind“. I asked about that expression – literally, ‘where foxes and rabbits are buried’ . It turned out that that expression is used to describe a place without human activity. Indeed, the village, while not abandoned, appeared grey and lifeless in the early morning overcast.

We were rewarded with sweeping views of the Cantabrian mountains in León. These mountains stretch for about 200 miles across northern Spain, and in places can reach heights of nearly 9,000 feet. Here in Galicia in April, they wore an intense green.

Coming to one of the high points in elevation on the Camino Frances (4242 ft), we found O Cebreiro (‘O’ means “the” in Galego). Galego is a language spoken in this region of Spain (Galicia) , with similarities to Portuguese. O Cebreiro is situated on a mountaintop, with grand views, and consists of several shops and bars , a church , and some curious oval dwellings with conical , thatched roofs . The name given to this type of house is palloza. The design is thought to be extremely old ( pre-Roman, perhaps even Iron Age). Originally, both people and their animals lived in them.

Continuing on downwards, we met this friendly dog. On the Camino I did not see any mistreatment of dogs as described several times in Hape Kerkeling’s book. I did notice dogs tied to chains rather than the more elastic lines or cords that we would use in the USA. The effect is admittedly the same, but it always appeared a bit jarring to me to see.

We also had sightings of someone who we had met earlier, back at Rabanal. Encountering him at several bars along the way, he explained his plan to raise koi in large numbers, as a protein source for the world. He also confided that he made rapid progress between bars ( 6 km/hour) , by not actually walking on the Camino, but rather on nearby roads and highways. One of the German pilgrims remarked somewhat cryptically that he “hat ein Affenzahn drauf” . This means literally that he has a monkey’s tooth on him. It was explained to me that this means that someone is moving at a fast pace.

Coming into the village of Triacastela, I encountered cows coming the other way. I heard the man calling the animals back into the barn, and was somehow expecting that he would have individual, endearing names for his charges. However he was simply shouting “Vacas!” (Cows) which, while accurate, seemed rather generic.

As the way descended, the landscape became more densely forested, with gently rolling hills, and isolated farmhouses and hamlets appearing through the lush green vegetation. Reminding me of the Shire in The Lord of the Rings.

We stopped to have breakfast in a farmhouse off to the side of the path. Just so that you can have an idea of what it could look like inside one of these .

At a restaurant in Sarria before we went our separate ways, our little group passed the time when waiting for food, by attempting to translate the quotations on the walls.

Then a group of Galician musicians arrived for a family celebration in the back of the restaurant. Through the din of bagipipes and language barrier, I found that one pilgrim was going not only to Santiago, but to Lourdes and Fatima as well. He had a strong belief that this could help with a family health issue.

First day as hospitalero

Big Night

Dinner for 51

Expect the World