Travel log
Crossing the river Minho halfway through the walk
I’ve crossed the River Minho, the border between Spain and Portugal. We took a small boat across with two elderly Spanish gentlemen who were having a very serious argument about the difference in the quality of paella between Spain and Portugal.
One of them even joked ‘In Portugal, the paella tastes like plastic!’ It was all very good natured, though.
In fact, all the people have been good natured, and I think that’s because of the traditional nature of the pilgrimage, people walking along the street see you with your backpack on and they wish you ‘Buen Camino’; there’s a lot of goodwill toward the pilgrims.
I’m halfway through my walk, and I’m feeling generally good! I’ve been feeling tired at the end of my walking days; when I get over 20 kilometres in a day everything aches gently by the last hour or two, but my feet have kept up with it despite a little bit of delayed-onset-muscle-stiffness.
As I reflect on the journey so far, I’ve been thinking about how the people are living here. We’ve been through some villages which are remote and far away from modern commerce; you see people working in fields here in a way which you don’t really see in Britain, with far less mechanisation.
People do the same very traditional agricultural labour which their great, great grandparents would have been doing, but the country is reasonably prosperous. There are no signs of significant poverty there.
Walking through Portugal, you cannot fail to be impressed as you walk by the number of little historic chapels that you go past, and there are a lot of rocky coasts and a series of ruined forts all along the way, abandoned now for the best part of 500 years.
It’s also very windy. You can see a lot of historic windmills which no longer have the sails on but would have been used long ago for threshing grain.
Crossing into Spain, the landscape is significantly wetter. The vista is a lush green which can only be produced by a lot of rain. In the sunshine it looks stunning, but this must be a very tough walk in wet weather.
As we walked through the town of A Guarda, a few miles north of the border, I noticed it was a lot less prosperous than anywhere we’d seen in Northern Portugal.
There were shops on the high street which were closed, and it felt as though the population had previously been supported by an industry which is no longer here.
It reminded me how important the Camino is to the people here, and that’s evidenced by the frequency I’ve come across employees of the Galician council tending to the path, repaving it and clipping the grass where it has overgrown; it’s a great cultural and economic treasure and it’s kept in an exemplary state.
Along the way, I’ve met some fascinating fellow pilgrims. As you walk you tend to recognise people who are following a similar sort of route to you. We met a lady from Belgium this way when we recognised her in a restaurant that we were having dinner in, and we started chatting. I’d seen her a couple of times and I learned that she was walking because a close relative was ill, and she had vowed to go on the pilgrimage.
We’ve met walkers from Germany, Mexico, and some Australian ladies who were very feisty!
There was a lady from Quebec who speaks French, English, Portuguese and Spanish, and she was on her second Camino. She spoke of how she’d been teaching immigrants from Pakistan to speak English for the last few years, and how she was hoping to find love on the Camino.
I’ve also been struck by the ages of the people doing the Camino. There are a lot of young, fit people in their 20s going long distances, and the two men on the boat were cracking on for 80 and they were on a much longer pilgrimage, and it’s interesting to see.
That’s the fellowship that the Camino brings.
I’m enjoying the food along the way, now that we’re into Galicia, the seafood has become even more delicious, with simple clam dishes on special pilgrim’s menus, which are priced very reasonably.
Logistically, I’m still getting used to how much time every morning is dedicated to getting ready. You’ve got to be out and walking by a certain time, and so you need your stuff to be all packed up. It actually takes a long time to ‘strike camp’!
I’m also regretting not bringing an additional power pack for my phone, which has been giving out during the day. I’d hoped to catch up on some interesting podcasts, but I’ve not been able to because I’ve had to conserve power.
I’m about to start heading north from O Muino as I venture deeper into the Spanish section of the Camino. In about two days’ time I’m going to be going from Baiona to Vigo, which I’m slightly nervous about because it’s a 25km stage with a lot of up and down. That evening we’re going to be rendezvousing with our daughters, who I’m looking forward to meeting us at a hotel, and I’m going to be shattered!
There are descriptions in my guidebook, sometimes it says, ‘today’s going to be long, but easy’, and some days it says, ‘today will be short, but steep and hard’, and sometimes those days combine, and it becomes a bigger challenge.
Despite the challenges, every step has been worth it. The Camino so far has been a journey across some wonderful landscapes, and it has enabled me to hear some incredible stories from people from all over the world.
I’m grateful to be here and to be part of it.
The last day – entering Compostela
From the top of the hill at O Milladoiro you can see out to Santiago de Compostela, a quiet reminder that the journey is nearly at an end.
You can see the spires of the cathedral, and you know you’re almost there, but as you drop down the hill they vanish from sight and the final stretch winds uphill through the narrow medieval streets of Santiago.
Unlike other cathedrals that you can see from miles around, you just get one glimpse, and then it’s gone.
As I’d neared the end of the walk, I’d been joined by my wife Cathy and our two daughters, Lauren and Alex. I’d been here before, but I was looking forward to seeing their reaction to seeing the stunning cathedral square for the first time.
I entered Spain from Portugal over the River Minho 10 days ago, and as I’ve walked north along the pilgrim’s trail, it has really hit me how much the country has changed in the course of my lifetime.
I first came here as a 20-year-old hitchhiker during Franco’s reign.
My friend and I travelled to Leon, and I remember being taken by how poor most people were. Most didn’t have cars, and there was a lot of begging.
Now, people here are living a good life.
People are working, and there’s plenty of signs of industry, and as I walked, I got no sensation that the population is suffering the sort of poverty of fifty years ago.
To me, the eye-opening thing about this walk has been that you get to see the countryside and the lives of the people in a truly different way than if you were on a road trip, or a train, because you can do a hard day’s travelling and only move 15 miles and so you notice a lot more.
You go through small towns and villages, down little lanes past people’s back gardens, you see the small children going happily along to school, people going to work. The people you meet are truly very friendly to the pilgrims.
A few days ago, we’d walked past a building site, and a great big chap came out carrying something looking heavy. He took one look at us and said ‘Buen Camino!’
All he saw was a couple of pilgrims going along and he wanted to wish them well, and that’s the overwhelming spirit of the people in this part of the world.
As I walked and took in the country around me, I became more and more appreciative of the team back in Worcester. I knew how much hard work they’d all been doing to raise money and I had a deep feeling of gratitude that I was part of a team which is close to raising £60,000 for our cause.
The thought gave me a sense of determination and slight trepidation as I looked forward to finishing the walk.
Walking up the hill through the quiet suburbs and into Santiago de Compostela it was hot. Walking in this part of the world after 1 o’clock can be very difficult, so I knew we were going to have a challenging last section of the walk.
I walked into the cathedral square with its ancient buildings at the height of the afternoon sun, surrounded by my fellow pilgrims, all celebrating the end of their own Caminos as they reached the famous cathedral itself.
I felt a sense of elation, having walked 280 kilometres. I’d arrived, my family was with me and it had been a fantastic journey.
I’ve learned so much about the lives of people in northern Portugal, and this marvellous region of Spain. The people have been friendly and welcoming, and there has been kindness, curiosity, and inclusion all along the way.
As I looked around the cathedral square I was also struck by an immense sense of gratitude, to all the people who have followed my journey, wished me well and donated money so that we can help the students of the future.
Thirteen days since I set out from Porto, I’ve walked through varied landscapes, seen beautiful old buildings, looked out over famous historical battle sites, and learned lessons from pilgrims from around the world. It’s all on the Camino, if you’ve got the eyes to see it.