The shadow photo is an inevitable part of the Camino. When you’re walking west, day after day, and leaving early in the morning, day after day, it’s always there.
In a world that’s increasingly polarized between “us” and “them,” where “them” is often an enemy not worthy of respect, the Camino is different.
Before we left for our Camino, people would ask me what place I was most looking forward to visiting, and I would always say Pamplona. Partly, I admit, that’s because it was the only name I recognized. I looked at maps with words like Moissac and Castrojeriz, and drew blanks. The books told me thatContinue reading “Pamplona (A Photo Tour)”
Eric and I spent our 14th wedding anniversary in the sleepy, almost eerily deserted town of Bercianos del Real Camino, deep in the heart of the Meseta.
What is it like to walk from Saint Jean Pied de Port to Santiago de Compostela? I just found a video that sums it up and edits it down to just 4 minutes. It looks like they walked about the same time last year that we did, and so everything here is so familiar IContinue reading “Spend 4 Minutes on the Camino Frances”
I call it the most amazing day that I’m glad I never have to do again.
At one point or another, every Camino alum starts making Top Five list. The Best Albergues. The Best Meals. The Best Days. I love reading these stories, because sometimes I recognize the places they describe…but more often I don’t. Pilgrims stop in different towns, or stay in different places, or the weather and the people justContinue reading “My 5 Favorite Albergues on the Camino Frances”
The 3am crack of thunder woke everyone in the room. Not that anyone said anything, of course. But I could hear the change in breath, the awareness as ten pilgrims listened to the rain outside the two single-pane windows and thought about the coming day. We were in Astorga, a city of moderate size tuckedContinue reading “Mulled Wine and Hailstorms”
“In a place called Lorca, towards the east, runs a river called Rio Salado. Beware from drinking its waters or from watering your horse in its stream, for this river is deadly. While we were proceeding towards Santiago, we found two Navarrese seated on its banks and sharpening their knives; they make a habit ofContinue reading “The Story of Rio Salado”