Travels Past & Future

  Santiago de Compostela: A City That Never Sleeps Adapted from Alison's diary entry We woke up in a city that never sleeps—or at least, that’s what Louise told me. Apparently, the streets were alive all night, a constant hum of energy that I somehow slept through (took my hearing aids out). But today, we’re ready to be part of it. Santiago de Compostela, the jewel at the end of the Camino, is waiting for us to explore. First things first: the second most important task of the day (after arriving, of course). We headed to the  Oficina de Acogida al Peregrino  to collect our Compostela certificates. To our delight, there was no queue—we walked straight in. I was number 307 this morning, Louise was 309, and Kim struggled with the QR code system. But eventually, she got her message sorted, and we were all officially certified pilgrims. With certificates in hand, it was time to lose ourselves in the labyrinth of Santiago’s old town. Every winding street, every hidden alley, s...

The Final Stride: Santiago at Last It’s hard to believe, but today is our last day on the Camino Frances. What a journey it has been. To say we’re exhausted would be an understatement. We’ve climbed hills that seemed to touch the sky, crossed rivers and streams that shimmered in the sunlight, navigated steep shale-covered paths that tested our balance, and wandered through fields, vineyards, and the smallest of hamlets that felt like they were frozen in time.   When I first decided to take on the Camino, I knew it would be hard. I knew it would test my fitness (or lack thereof), my endurance, and my will to keep going when every muscle in my body screamed to stop. And it did—all of that and more. But it also gave me moments of joy, breathtaking beauty, a sense of accomplishment and a bond that Kim, Alison and I will  carry forever.   Would I do it again? Probably not. And I’m fairly certain Alison wouldn’t want to walk it with me again, either. She’s a natural-b...

  The Final Countdown to Santiago: Forests, Hills, and a Shepherd’s Rescue From Alison's diary entry The countdown to Santiago has officially begun. Two walks remain, both 21 kilometres each. Today, we set out under a crisp 9-degree sky, not a cloud in sight, with the sun rising behind us, a quarter of the way to its apex. As we stepped out of our door, we were met with a sight that made us groan: a group of teenagers and their teachers, gathered and receiving instructions. Oh no, we thought—it’s going to be a busy day on the trail. The morning started with a curious encounter. Two groups of cyclists passed us—the first rang their bells politely, while the second blew whistles. It was an odd contrast, and we couldn’t help but wish this courtesy had continued throughout the day. A simple “ring ring” or a friendly call to let pilgrims know you’re passing seems like common decency, but alas, it wasn’t to be. Today’s path felt almost otherworldly. We walked below the canopy, the trail ...

  On the Road: Pilgrims, Forests, and Medieval Bridges Adapted from Alison's diary entry: The Camino is alive with energy today, as we join the steady stream of pilgrims marching toward Santiago. I still can’t quite get used to the sheer number of people who’ve joined the trail since Sarria. It’s a bustling parade of backpacks, walking poles, and cameras clicking madly at every turn. I suppose I shouldn’t be so complacent—after all, I’ve been walking for weeks now, and the magic of these ancient forests has become almost routine. But there’s something about seeing newcomers wide-eyed with wonder that reminds me not to take this journey for granted. Galicia, with its lush landscapes and misty air, is a world apart from the rest of Spain. It’s the wettest region in the country, and the evidence is everywhere. Little weirs dot the countryside, channeling runoff from the surrounding highlands into rivers. It’s easy to imagine people from another era gathering here, collecting their dai...

Rain, Pastries, and Hidden Chapels Adapted from Alison's diary entry: (as you can tell, she did the journaling) This morning, I woke up to the gentle pitter-patter of rain on the window—a familiar soundtrack to this trip. “It’s Raining Again” (thank you, Supertramp) seems to be the anthem of the day. Lately, I’ve been assigning a song to each day to capture its mood, and it’s become a fun little ritual. The first day was “Follow the Yellow Arrow Road” (a Camino-inspired twist on a classic), yesterday was “Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head,” and Monday was “Country Road, Take Me Home.” Music, it seems, is the perfect way to frame this adventure. The day began with a small but delightful surprise: our washing, left outside our door, had been washed, dried, and neatly folded. Some places are just so civilized! No more late-night battles with the bathroom sink to scrub our clothes. The couple who own and run this farm stay are absolute gems—always smiling, always helpful, and seemingly...

Visitor in night and a short cut Question for the day:  We asked our families on Whats App - What is this? The only response we got was from Gary, who suggested it was a TV Antena. "The structure depicted in the image is an hórreo, a traditional granary common in the northwest Iberian Peninsula, particularly in Galicia, Spain. The structure depicted in the image is an hórreo, a traditional granary common in the northwest Iberian Peninsula, particularly in Galicia, Spain" - Google image search Adapted from Alison's diary entry: Kim couldn’t find the motivation to leave the warmth of the bed this morning. Maybe it was the rain tapping steadily on the window, the lingering flu, or just sheer exhaustion—whatever it was, it had her firmly under its spell.   Yesterday, I thought I had the room to myself. That illusion was shattered this morning when I returned from the bathroom to find my roommate poking his head out of the stone wall. A little brown mouse, quick and curious, ...

  A Day on the Camino: Rolling Mountains & Omelette Surprises We had and early breakfast this morning but Kim was deep in debate—should we walk or take a taxi? She decided she'd walk., after all, it was only 11.8 kilometers. How hard could it be? Church of San Xoán (also known as San Nicolás) We set off down the Spanish steps, turned right, and soon found ourselves at a fork in the road—literally. Two signs pointed in different directions. We checked our guide book (John Brierley's guide to Camino Frances) and both apps (Raw Travel - which by the way we still haven't worked out, and Wise Pilgrim which we use every day) and there was no mention of a detour here. One sign showed the distance, while the other read  Complementario . Complementario usually meant extra distance so we decided against any added detours today, no matter how “complementary” they sounded.  The walk was much like yesterday’s—rolling hills (or as Kim called them, “rolling mountains”), tiny nameles...

  Sarria to Portomarín: A Day of Rolling Hills, Rain, and Resilience The buzz of Sarria reaches your ears before the town even comes into view. After a hearty breakfast, we set off with the intention of snapping a photo at the iconic  SARRIA  sign, only to find it swarmed by a tour bus crowd—and another one lining up behind it. No matter. We decide to skip the chaos and press on, eager to put some distance between us and the masses. After all, Sarria is where the largest wave of pilgrims begins their Camino, and our days of solitude on the trail are about to come to an end. Adapted from  Alison's diary entry. Today’s journey takes us through the undulating Galician countryside—up and down, up and down. You get the picture. But we’ll get there. The apple trees lining the road are just beginning to bloom, their delicate blossoms a reminder that spring is in full swing. By the time we reach Rente, we find ourselves sharing the path with a herd of cows, ambling their way...

A day of rest, exploration and the perfect breakfast. Today was a much-needed rest day, and we celebrated it with a leisurely, late breakfast. Let me just say this: hands down, the  best   breakfast I’ve had on the Camino so far. It was nothing short of AMAZING! Freshly made toast, local cheeses, bacon and scrambled eggs, perfectly brewed tea in a pot—every bite felt like a reward for the miles we’ve walked. If the Camino is a journey for the soul, this breakfast was a feast for the heart. That said, I are still battling the flu, which has decided to overstay its welcome. Breathing has become an Olympic sport, especially when tackling the endless hills. And let me tell you, there are  so many hills . I’ve lost count, but my trusty Ventolin puffer certainly hasn’t—it’s been working overtime. Kim’s been in the same boat, her puffer always at the ready. Honestly, if these hills had a fan club, we’d probably be the reluctant presidents. So, what does a rest day look like for ...