Category: Camino Primitivo

What matters is not reaching Santiago, but who you are when you arrive.

Today, Kathleen and I set out together for our final trek to Santiago de Compostela…the last stretch of this incredible journey. We left the albergue at 6:30 a.m., our headlamps casting small cones of light onto the quiet trail ahead. The air was cool and still, the kind of calm that feels sacred before sunrise. With only 20 kilometers left, we expected to reach the cathedral by lunchtime.

As we walked, the rhythm of our steps and the soft crunch of gravel beneath our shoes brought back memories of my very first Camino. I couldn’t help but think of Mike and Viola, my companions from that journey, and the rainy day we shared together on this same trail. Today’s path, damp and misty, carried the same scent of wet earth and eucalyptus, a reminder of where it all began for me.

Along the way, Kathleen and I reflected on our experiences along the Camino Primitivo…the hardest climbs, the moments that tested our resolve, and the breathtaking beauty that made every step worthwhile. Physically, this route lived up to its reputation as the most challenging, but it has also rewarded us with some of the most spectacular views I’ve ever seen. Every hill, every vista felt like both an ending and a beginning.

As we neared Santiago, the trail came alive with pilgrims converging from every direction. You could feel the air humming with excitement, a collective heartbeat of anticipation carrying us all toward the same sacred destination.

In no time at all we had come to just a few kilometers to the city. We could see Santiago’s Cathedral in the distance.

As we took our final steps into Santiago, a wave of emotion rose that words can barely contain. The familiar yellow arrows that had guided all of us for so many miles seemed to glow a little brighter, as if they too knew the end was near. The sound of footsteps, laughter, and quiet tears filled the air..pilgrims from every direction converging on the same goal, each carrying their own story of struggle and discovery.

Reaching the cathedral was surreal. After weeks of walking through mountains, sun, and silence, the sight of those spires felt both like an ending and a homecoming. Every ache and blister suddenly felt insignificant compared to the deep sense of gratitude that took their place.

As Kathleen and I descended the final steps, the sound of bagpipes drifted through the morning air ..haunting, beautiful, and unmistakably Santiago. That familiar surge of emotion began to rise within me, a mix of relief, pride, and quiet awe. By the time we stepped into the vast square before the cathedral, both of us had tears in our eyes. It’s a feeling that defies words …a moment where joy, exhaustion, and gratitude all meet.

The Camino has a way of stripping life down to its essentials…one step, one breath, one sunrise at a time. Along the way, I found kindness in strangers and friends, peace in solitude, and strength I didn’t know I had. Finishing the trail doesn’t feel like crossing a finish line; it feels like carrying the Camino forward, in heart and habit, wherever the road leads next.

My thoughts: Another Camino completed. It’s hard to believe how quickly the time passed. This journey was both challenging and deeply rewarding. There were moments when it felt almost impossible, yet every step was worth it. As this chapter comes to a close, I’m filled with a mix of gratitude, awe, and reflection.

I’m especially thankful for my Camino family and the friends who made this experience so meaningful. A special thank-you to Kathleen, who walked every step of the way with me…what a gift to share this journey together…. Thank You!!

I feel incredibly fortunate to have had the chance to be here once again, fully immersed in nature, in being present in life itself. For anyone considering this journey, I say do it. It’s worth every step.

“You are the only one that has the power and the responsibility to pick yourself up.” — Mary Holloway

I began the day with a hearty breakfast, savoring a quiet moment before the miles ahead. The morning air was cool and full of promise as I tightened the straps on my pack and set out on a 27-kilometer trek. The trail wound through rolling hills and sleepy villages, the scent of eucalyptus drifting on the breeze. Kathleen had set off in the dark, her figure already a memory on the horizon, and we plan to reunite in the town O’ Pedrouzo this afternoon….tired perhaps, but fulfilled by another day on the Camino.

The journey led me once again through a patchwork of farmland and forest….the familiar rhythm of fields giving way to shaded woodland paths. It’s a landscape that has accompanied much of this pilgrimage, quiet and steadfast, with the scent of earth and pine lingering in the air.

Today felt different….quieter somehow, more charged with emotion. Villages appeared like mirages between the trees, offering brief moments of rest and connection before the road stretched onward again. As the city Arzúa came and went, the trail seemed to narrow and the air grew still, filled with that quiet awareness that the end is near. I could hear the soft murmur of other pilgrims ahead and behind…each of us walking with our own thoughts, our own mix of fatigue and anticipation. By the time O’ Pedrouzo finally came into view, it felt like a gentle pause before the last chapter…a place to breathe, reflect, and gather myself for tomorrow’s walk into Santiago de Compostela.

I met Kathleen at our accommodations, both of us dusty and weary from the long day’s walk. After a quick shower and a change of clothes, we set out in search of an early dinner..a much-needed refuel after the day’s journey. We found a cozy little spot tucked along the main street, the kind of place that hums softly with conversation and the clinking of glasses. Dinner was a beautiful plate of black rice with tender langoustines, rich and briny with the taste of the sea, paired with a simple tomato salad bursting with the sweetness of local harvests. It was the perfect meal to close the day…humble, satisfying, and full of quiet contentment

My thoughts: The journey felt both familiar and new.. a beautiful stretch of countryside that I’ve traveled before, yet it seemed to speak to me differently this time. The warmth of the sun and the endless blue sky carried a quiet comfort, a sense of peace that settled deep within me. My feet ache and my body feels the weight of the many miles behind me, but each step still feels meaningful and a reminder of why I came back. This journey is drawing close to its end, and that realization sits tenderly in my heart. I’m filled with gratitude for the chance to be here again, to walk this sacred path across Spain, and to complete my third Camino. It’s more than a journey of distance; it’s a journey of renewal, reflection, and quiet joy.

“Never has there been and never again will there be another you.” SC Chapman

This morning Kathleen and I set out on our own, each following the trail at our own pace. We’ve always had an agreement if one of us feels a burst of energy, it’s fine to go ahead. So Kathleen headed out early, in the quiet darkness, while I lingered behind at the albergue to enjoy breakfast. We planned to reunite in Melide, the place where the Camino Primitivo merges with the Camino Francés, and where we’d finally have the chance to eat one of Galicia’s most celebrated dishes, pulpo a la gallega.

Once I set out on the trail, the path quickly carried me back into the countryside, winding through fields and pockets of forest as well as on paved roads through fields of cows. The air was filled with the sweet scent of wildflowers and the smoky aroma of wood fires drifting from distant homes, while the steady clatter of cowbells and the cawing of crows in the distance set the sound of the morning. It had been a while since I’d walked alone on the trail, so I put on some music to keep me company.. the rhythm kept my steps light and steady, turning the day into something both energizing and fun. Along the way, I still exchanged smiles and conversations with fellow pilgrims as our paths crossed.

Eventually the trail began to gently climb, the air growing cooler and thinner with each step, until the trees parted and the path opened onto a ridge. From there, an incredible view of the valley unfolded with rolling fields bathed in soft light, dotted with farmhouses, and patchwork of greens and golds stretching as far as the eye could see. A light breeze carried the scent of grass and earth.

Eventually I reached Melide, where Kathleen, Runa, and Gere were waiting patiently for lunch. I joined them, and together we enjoyed a hearty meal that, of course, included pulpo a la gallega. The octopus arrived in the traditional style — tender slices served on a round wooden plate, generously sprinkled with coarse sea salt, dusted with smoky paprika, and finished with a drizzle of rich olive oil. It was as delicious as it was emblematic of Galicia.

Once finished with our meals, we bid Runa and Gere farewell and headed 5 more km to our albergue in the small village of Boente.

My thoughts: Sitting in Melide, at the very same pulpería I visited in 2022, I was struck by the sense of familiarity… as if the Camino Frances itself had welcomed me back. Now, with just two days left on the Camino Francés, I feel both excited to reach Santiago once more, and a little sad that this journey is nearing its end so quickly. More than anything, I feel grateful for the miles, the moments, and the chance to walk this path again. Time for bed… tomorrow comes quickly!

“The journey is the reward.” — Taoist Proverb

Today’s walk quickly carried us out of Lugo and back into the calm embrace of forests and winding country roads. Leaving the city was surprisingly easy, and almost at once we were surrounded by open fields and shaded groves, the air rich with the sharp scent of eucalyptus and the earthy fragrance of oak leaves. The soft crunch of the path beneath our shoes kept a steady rhythm, while the distant sound of cows and their bells drifted across the countryside. As always, Spain’s landscapes are breathtaking….the forests not only dazzle the eye with their beauty, but also offer a timeless serenity.

This marks our final day on the Camino Primitivo before we join the Camino Francés tomorrow. Already, I’ve begun to notice more pilgrims appearing along the trail..not so many that it feels crowded, but enough that new and unfamiliar faces are starting to mingle with the familiar rhythm of our journey. It feels bittersweet to leave behind the quieter solitude of the Primitivo, yet there’s also a sense of excitement in stepping into the shared energy of the Francés and becoming part of its larger story.

Our destination is the tiny hamlet of Ferreira (Palas de Rei), home to only about 60 residents. What makes it especially charming is the contrast between its size and its role on the Camino…despite being so small, it offers three different albergues, a clear sign of how deeply the village is woven into the pilgrim’s path.

When we arrived at our albergue, Kathleen and I were delighted to run into our Camino friends, Runa and Gere. The two first met on the Camino years ago and have since reunited to walk many trails together. Runa comes from Iceland, Gere from Norway.. such a beautiful reminder of how this journey weaves together lives and friendships across borders.

My thoughts: Only a few days remain to take in this beautiful corner of Spain. In just a couple of days we will walk into Santiago, and this chapter of the journey will come to an end. The thought is both exciting and bittersweet…exciting to finally reach the destination that has called us forward with every step, yet a little sad to realize how quickly the time has passed. The Camino has been more than a walk; it has been a rhythm of discovery, connection, and presence, and I find myself wanting to hold on to these final days and savor them slowly. To me, the Camino gives so much more. A time to reset, to disconnect from the hamster wheel of daily life, and a chance to be present. Feeling appreciative and grateful.

“Though the road may be long, even a distant glimpse of where you are going can light the way.” — Unknown

Today’s trail carried us out of the quiet village and into a patchwork of small farmlands and winding country roads. We passed quaint stone houses with tidy gardens, fields alive with the earthy scent of freshly turned soil, and air touched by the sweet smell of grass and woodsmoke. Birds filled the morning with song, their calls echoing through the hedgerows and open fields. Step by step, surrounded by these simple yet vivid moments, the path drew us closer to our destination..the historic city of Lugo

History lesson for those that are interested: Lugo is one of Spain’s oldest continuously inhabited cities, with roots stretching back to the Celtic tribes who worshipped the god Lugus. Founded by the Romans around the turn of the 1st century, it quickly became an important settlement thanks to its resources and strategic location. Its most famous legacy is the 3rd-century Roman walls, which are still intact today and encircle the historic center.

Little by little, the long country roads gave way to stretches of asphalt, and the humble farmhouses we had been passing slowly transformed into larger, more modern homes. With each step, the landscape shifted, signaling that the countryside was behind us and the historic city of Lugo was drawing near.

Turns out my knee wanted its own say on this Camino…it’s been grumbling about all the climbs and demanded some extra attention. So, I got it a fancy new brace to keep it happy for the next few days. Nothing serious, just my body reminding me that even knees like to take a break now and then.

Reaching Lugo brought with it a powerful milestone..the 100-kilometer marker. To stand before it and realize that Santiago de Compostela is now within reach, filled me with both awe and gratitude. What once felt like a distant goal is now a tangible horizon, and I can hardly believe how quickly the days, steps, and shared moments have carried us here.

Lugo struck me as a city where past and present live side by side in harmony …ancient walls guarding streets filled with the rhythms of everyday life. Walking through it reminded me how the Camino isn’t only about reaching Santiago, but also about pausing to appreciate the places and moments along the way. I could see myself returning here someday, not to hurry on, but to linger and let the city reveal itself more fully.

My thoughts: Reaching Lugo feels like a deeply meaningful milestone. In just two days we will join the Camino Francés …the very route where countless pilgrims have walked before me, and where my own first Camino began. Knowing that Santiago is now within reach stirs both excitement and a touch of sadness, because the end is drawing near. More than ever, I want to linger in each step, to hold onto the small moments, and to be fully present for the final stretch of this journey. As always the gift to be on this journey never goes unappreciated.

Sometimes the most productive thing you can do is relax.” — Mark Black

Today was a true day of rest and renewal…a pause my body and spirit deeply craved after ten days of climbing up and down relentless, steep grades. Nestled in this tiny, quiet village, surrounded by the embrace of woods and the gentle rhythm of stillness, I felt the weight of fatigue lift. The calm, unhurried hours were a gift, exactly what was needed to restore our strength and prepare us to continue the long journey of what’s left of the Camino Primitivo.

Kathleen and I spent the afternoon wandering through the quiet village where our accommodations are located. The atmosphere was calm and beautiful, and it wasn’t until we allowed ourselves to pause that we realized just how much our bodies had been asking for this rest. Our albergue, A Pucina de Muñiz, has been the most welcoming and comfortable place we’ve stayed so far. In the evening, we gathered around a family-style table with pilgrims from all over the world, sharing stories and laughter. Moments like these remind me that the Camino is not only about the miles walked, but also about the community that gives the journey its meaning.

My thoughts: Such a relaxing and restorative day. Slowing down to wander the village, to sit in quiet moments of reflection, and to share conversations and laughter with fellow pilgrims felt like a gift I hadn’t realized I needed. The Camino has a way of reminding me that rest is as important as hiking , and that joy is often found in the simplest moments like a shared meal, a kind word, or a pause to breathe deeply. Once again, I feel deeply grateful for the opportunities this journey continues to unfold, both in the landscapes I walk through and in the people I meet along the way. Feeling blessed!

“The art of being happy lies in the power of extracting happiness from common things.” – Henry Ward Beecher

This route is famously nicknamed “Rompe Piernas” translated as “The Leg Breaker” a fitting title for the relentless ascents and punishing descents that wind through these mountain paths. It was a demanding challenge, but also a milestone: the final day of major climbs for a while.

Today offered sights that took our breath away. We set off while the world was still asleep, beginning a 9½-hour hike under a sky full of stars. As dawn broke, soft light spilled across the fields, painting them in warm tones of pink and amber. The landscape seemed to stretch endlessly, each turn revealing another scene more captivating than the last. Spain continues to surprise me with its remarkable beauty, and I felt truly grateful to witness it in such a vivid and unforgettable way.

The trail put us through some tough stretches, with steep climbs followed by equally demanding descents. But the effort was rewarded with striking scenery. Much of the path wound through shaded corridors of trees, their branches creating a welcome canopy overhead. Moss covered rocks and tree trunks in thick green layers, while ferns spread across the forest floor, adding color and texture to the landscape. Even on the hardest sections, it was impossible not to appreciate how beautiful the surroundings were.

We climbed steadily throughout the day, each stretch taking us higher than I ever imagined. It wasn’t until we reached the top that the true scale of the distance and elevation sank in..a breathtaking reminder of just how far determination can carry us.

Along the trail, we crossed paths with incredible pilgrims from every corner of the globe—Canada, Finland, Italy, California, and beyond. Each carried their own story, yet we were united by the same journey, a reminder that this path connects people not just across miles, but across cultures and hearts.

My Thoughts: Each day on this journey feels like a true gift, and I’m deeply grateful for the chance to walk it. The Camino isn’t just about covering miles—it’s about the people who walk beside us, even for a short while. Pilgrims from around the world bring their own stories, and in sharing them, we’re reminded of how connected we all are. I’m also encouraged every step of the way by my buddy Kathleen—her strength, spirit, and companionship make the hard days lighter and the beautiful moments even brighter. Together, with strangers who quickly feel like friends, this journey becomes so much more than a hike; it becomes a celebration of humanity, resilience, and the joy of walking side by side.

“It is not the mountain we conquer, but ourselves.” — Sir Edmund Hillary

With a long day stretching ahead, we set out before sunrise, stepping into a world still cloaked in darkness. A heavy mist hung in the air, softening the edges of the trail and casting a mysterious, almost otherworldly mood over the landscape. Our headlamps carved narrow tunnels of light through the dark, illuminating wet leaves and stones that glistened as if dusted with silver. Every surface shimmered with moisture, and the silence of the early hour wrapped around us…a stillness so profound it felt almost sacred. It was a beautiful, hushed beginning to the ten hour hike ahead of us.

As the sun crept higher, the mist transformed into a golden haze, drifting like silk across the landscape. Above it, the sky deepened into a clear, radiant blue, while the air, heavy with moisture, carried a freshness that was both cool and sweet — a reminder of the new day unfolding.

In the distance, the rhythmic sound of hooves broke the morning quiet, growing closer with each beat. Moments later, a striking horse appeared, trotting gracefully across the field until it came right up to the fence where we were walking, as if inviting attention. I couldn’t resist..I stopped, reached out, and gladly pet it for a few minutes.

With the sun now casting its light across the land, we found ourselves drawn deeper into a tree-lined trail that became our constant companion for much of the day. The path wound beneath arching branches, where shifting patterns of shadow and sunlight played across the ground. From time to time, the trees gave way to open farmland, where cows grazed lazily in wide, green pastures and farm dogs stood alert at the edges of their yards, watchful guardians of their homes.

As with every day on this journey, the trail surprised us with just how much we ascended, each climb steeper and more demanding than it first appeared. Yet with every push upward, the reward grew greater and the landscape unfolded into rugged ridgelines, sweeping valleys, and vistas so vast they seemed to challenge us to climb higher still. The effort left us breathless, but the views from each new height made the struggle feel like part of the adventure itself.

Today’s journey carried us across an important threshold leaving behind the mountains of Asturias and stepping into the rolling landscapes of Galicia. The border also marked a milestone of its own: the halfway point along the Camino Primitivo, a moment that felt both like an accomplishment and an invitation to press on toward Santiago.

The final destination today, Fonsagrada, is the highest town in Galicia, and is a historic stop on the Camino Primitivo. Its name comes from the Fonte Sagrada (“Sacred Fountain”), a spring said to have miraculous powers, located beside the church of Santa María. For centuries, pilgrims paused here at the Royal Hospital of Santiago de Montouto.

My thoughts: Today was a long one..ten hours on the trail, each step testing endurance. Yet the rewards were undeniable: sweeping views that stopped us in our tracks, the richness of the journey itself, and the joy of meeting fellow pilgrims from every corner of the world. I end the day tired, but deeply grateful. Time seems to be flying, each day blending into memories I know I’ll carry long after the Camino is done.

“And into the forest I go, to lose my mind and find my soul.” — John Muir

Today’s journey takes me back into the forest, with ascents and descents throughout the day. While not as difficult as the prior day, we did hike for 9 hours today to reach our destination at Grandas de Salime.

I’ve lost track of how many times I’ve tried to put the beauty of this area into words. The trail began quietly, winding through shaded woodland, where the cool air was still heavy with night. But before long, the trees thinned, and we emerged into open countryside. It was as if the landscape had been waiting for us with wide green pastures in every direction, their grasses heavy with dew that shimmered in the first touch of daylight.

The sun was just beginning its slow climb, casting a golden haze across the rolling hills. Shadows stretched long and thin, folding into the valleys, while the higher ridges glowed as though brushed with light. Every breath carried the crisp scent of damp earth and fresh grass. Hiking here, with the day just waking, it felt less like we were passing through the land and more like we were being welcomed into it.

As the trail carried us higher, the landscape transformed once again, drawing us into the quiet embrace of the forest. The air cooled noticeably under the tall canopy, where trunks rose like pillars and the scent of pine and damp earth lingered with every breath. Along the path, ferns spread in thick clusters, their delicate fronds arching gracefully toward the light. Moss blanketed boulders and fallen logs, softening their edges with a rich, velvety green. Sunlight streamed down in scattered beams, illuminating pockets of the trail.

As the trail continued its ascent, the landscape revealed an extraordinary surprise. We broke through the cloud cover, suddenly standing above a soft, endless sea of white that stretched to the horizon. The sun blazed bright, warming our faces as a cool mountain breeze swept past, carrying with it the scent of stone and sky. From this height, the world below was hidden, leaving only the rolling clouds beneath us and the vast expanse of peaks rising in every direction…a view so breathtaking it felt as though we had stepped into another realm.

We soon emerged from the deeper forest and began climbing toward the crest. As we reached the top and looked beyond, a glimmer of blue appeared in the distance. What first seemed like a simple stretch of water revealed itself to be a broad lake, held in place by a dam. To continue toward our destination, the trail would lead us down the far side of the slope, winding steadily until we crossed over the dam itself. From this vantage point, the scenery was spectacular once again…sweeping views of the hillside giving way to water and sky.

After crossing the dam and skirting the edge of the lake, we found a small café tucked into the mountainside — a welcome sight after the long descent. Its terrace opened out over the water, offering sweeping views of the valley below and the ridgelines rising beyond. We paused there for a much needed lunch, the warmth of hearty food and the comfort of rest made all the better by the crisp mountain air and the gentle sparkle of the lake just below. Recharged and content, we continued onward toward our final destination.

My thoughts: Today’s hike felt more like a trek through the Alps than a hike in Spain. We covered an impressive distance, and though the route wasn’t as demanding as yesterday’s, it still offered its share of challenges, balanced perfectly by the rewards of breathtaking scenery and quiet moments along the trail. More than anything, I feel deeply grateful to be here, exploring this remarkable corner of Spain on foot, with each step offering a new perspective and a memory worth keeping.

“It does not matter how slowly you go as long as you do not stop.” — Confucius

Today’s nine hour trek wasted no time, pitching upward the moment we left the albergue. The path to La Mesa carved its way through dense forest and along the rugged mountainside, pulling us higher with every step. The rain may have lifted, but in its place stood a new adversary: a trail as fierce as it was relentless, daring each of us to rise to the challenge.

Just when I thought the scenery couldn’t possibly be surpassed, today swept me away with some of the most breathtaking views I’ve ever seen in Spain. The hike carried us higher and higher, until the world opened up in sweeping vistas untouched forests stretching to the horizon, emerald pastures glowing in the light, and wild horses grazing freely. It was pure wonder, the kind of beauty that leaves you standing still, just to take it all in.

You couldn’t help but feel the strain in your calves and legs with the steep climbs of today’s trails. Much of the path was rocky, still slick and damp from the rains of previous days, adding an extra layer of challenge to every step. Yet we were blessed with cool breezes and soft sunlight breaking through the clouds, small mercies that made the effort a little lighter.

The hike was long, and as with every stretch of the Camino, the mystery of what lay around each corner kept me moving forward. Sometimes it was a view that stole my breath, other times another climb that pushed me higher. Even when the trail leveled out, it was only for a moment..just long enough to gather strength before the path rose once more, leading us toward yet another unexpected challenge. Through it all, my friend Kathleen was right beside me, step for step, impressing me with her perseverance and reminding me that this journey is never walked alone.

My thoughts: Today was hard physically…exhausting in a way that tested every step. At times, all I could do was focus on the simple rhythm of one foot in front of the other, refusing to stop. With no cafés or stores along the way, there was nothing to distract us, just the raw climb up the mountainside, and the long descent that followed. Yet in that challenge came strength. I’m so proud of both myself and Kathleen; side by side, we never gave in, pressing forward no matter how steep the path. And still, even in the struggle, we found ourselves pausing to marvel at the beauty around us, humbled by the privilege of walking this trail. To think of the countless pilgrims who have hiked this same path before us is deeply moving..it reminds me that every step we take is part of something far greater than ourselves.