Category: Camino Primitivo

“Some people walk in the rain, others just get wet.” — Roger Miller

I woke to the steady drum of rain, a downpour that had carried on through the night and showed no sign of easing with the morning light. Still, it was only water—nothing that could dampen the spirit of a pilgrim. After a simple breakfast in the albergue café, we pulled on our trusty rain ponchos…hardly stylish, but battle-ready..and set off once more along the trails.

Today’s destination is Pola de Allande. Though the distance is shorter, the path offers no shortage of climbs and descents..each step a reminder that every challenge along the way is preparing us for tomorrow, one of the steepest and most demanding days of the journey.

What I hadn’t expected today was the depth of beauty in the landscape. Even through the veil of rain, the vistas and forests revealed a quiet majesty that stopped me in my tracks. It was a reminder of how extraordinary this part of Spain is, and how worthwhile it is to slow down and truly take it in.

Our hike wound upward through valleys draped in mist and forests thick with ferns that brushed against our legs as we passed. Creeks tumbled alongside the trail, their cool spray mingling with the scent of damp earth and pine. Waterfalls spilled over moss-covered rocks, their steady roar echoing through the trees. Every breath carried the freshness of rain soaked air, every step surrounded by the vibrant green of a landscape alive with sound and texture.

The terrain today kept us on our toes…muddy paths and slippery rocks made for slow, careful steps. But that’s all part of the adventure. Even with ponchos on, my shoes were happily baptized in mud and rainwater, carrying the day’s journey with them in every splash and squish.

For most of the day, the rain lingered. Each time we slipped off our ponchos, hoping for a stretch of clear skies, the drizzle would return..sometimes a light mist, other times a steady shower, keeping us guessing and never quite dry.

While the rain was an additional challenge, my fitness app stated I hiked 110 flights of stairs during the day.. that’s a good deal of climbing and great preparation for tomorrow.

Finally we reached our destination for the day. A small European hamlet.. and a welcome place to get dry and warm.

My thoughts: Today was challenging with the constant rain, and there were moments I felt weighed down by the mud and the gray skies. Yet the Camino has a way of reminding me why I’m here. Even on the hardest days, it offers moments of beauty that stop me in my tracks..a view through the mist, the sound of water rushing beside the trail, or simply the quiet peace of hiking. It feels as if every struggle is met with a gift, and that makes the effort not just worthwhile, but deeply meaningful. Always grateful to be able to be here and hike these trails.

“The earth has music for those who listen.” — George Santayana

Just when I thought the trail had shown me all its beauty, leaving Tineo proved me wrong. The climb lifted us into a countryside so vast it felt like stepping into another world. Hills rolled out in every direction, stitched together in a patchwork of greens, with strokes of yellow and gold catching the morning light as if the land itself were painted fresh each day. We found ourselves commenting on the beauty around us multiples times. The air seemed sharp and clean, tinged with the sweetness of wild grass…pure oxygen.

We could hear the cheerful chirps of birds and the distant call of a crow cutting across the silence. Even the sound of boots on the path felt like part of the rhythm of this living canvas. It wasn’t just scenery, it was an experience.

Walking toward Campiello meant yet another uphill stretch, but the climb felt effortless with the sweeping, 360-degree views all around. A light rain fell throughout the day, not as a nuisance but as something that deepened the experience—freshening the air and sharpening the colors of the landscape. These days on the trail feel rich and rewarding, even as Tuesday and Wednesday approach, bringing with them the infamous “ass-kicker” routes, beloved (and dreaded) for their relentless, steep ascents.

With every twist and turn of the trail today, more stunning views of this area just kept appearing. Eventually we descended a bit into the very small town of Campiello with a few buildings and pilgrim Albergue. Luckily it also has an attached restaurant. It was a welcome shelter from the rain coming in behind us, and we were able to eat some lunch and watch the sky open up to a downpour in the warmth and dryness inside.

For those interested here’s where I am currently on this path.

My thoughts: It’s never lost on me how special this area of Spain is. The nature, the beauty, the crisp air at higher altitudes. Again feeling grateful to be here and experience this path.

“Blisters fade, aches ease, but the resilience you carry forward from each step endures.”

We were cheered onward as we left the comfort of the Albergue in Bodenaya this morning, with the owners standing outside and waving as we went on to our next adventure. Todays destination is the city of Tineo.

Tineo’s history stretches back to prehistoric and Roman times, when the area was notable for gold mining, and it gained importance in the Middle Ages after King Alfonso IX granted it a charter in 1222. Today you find it surrounded by cattle farming, especially dairy production. Livestock has traditionally been one of the main pillars of its economy.

The trail out of Bodenaya started with an upward steep climb, as though testing my resolve right from the start. I could feel my legs burn.. but with each step the world opened to velvety green hills and meadows filled with cows lifting their heads, meeting my eyes with a calm that felt like quiet encouragement. I felt deeply connected to it. The earth alive under my feet, its scent rising with every stride: damp soil, crushed grass, a whisper of wildflowers. When the rain began to fall, soft and scattered, we all stopped to put on our ponchos. Instead of feeling burdened, I felt welcomed. The drops released that tender fragrance I love…sweet like moss, wild herbs, and the clean bite of wet stone. It filled me with both nostalgia and renewal, leaving only the simple joy of being here, now, on this path.

The beauty here is almost overwhelming…hills rolling away in endless shades of green, valleys opening like secrets just revealed. You almost forget your continuously climbing. The air so crisp and cool, the kind that wakes every sense, and as the rain sprinkled down it felt as if the world itself had brightened, as though someone had turned on a hidden light to unveil the valley in all its clarity and grace.

Along the trail we came across a small chapel: Parroquia de Santos Justo y Pastor in El Pedregal. We all stopped to get a stamp in our pilgrim passports and get out of the rain for a moment. I lit a candle for Tiffany, my mom and dad.

Continuing on, led into more forested canopies with ferns and moss cooling the trail.

As we grew closer to Tineo, stone building led its way to more civilization, with Tineo in our sights.

Finally arriving in Tineo, the town was larger than I anticipated. But yet its European charm just welcomed us in.

My thoughts:

Today left me both tired and deeply alive. Walking the Camino Primitivo isn’t always easy..the climbs test my body, and the descents demand my focus..but somehow the beauty makes every challenge feel small. I kept catching myself pausing, just to take it in..the rolling countryside, the play of shadows on the hills, the quiet that feels almost sacred. Pictures can’t hold what it feels like to actually be here, breathing it in, step by step.

As I walked, I felt gratitude welling up..gratitude for the strength to walk, for the chance to be in this place with my friend Kathleen, for the reminder that even when the road is hard, it can also be filled with wonder. Today wasn’t just about distance covered..it was about being present, about letting the landscape speak to me in ways I didn’t expect.

“Between forest and sky, stone and silence, the trail whispers your truest self.”

Since we planned a shorter distance to travel today, Kathleen and I took our time with breakfast, and then spent the morning exploring the city of Salas.

Salas is a small city with a strong sense of history and community. Its streets are narrow and cobbled, lined with stone houses that have stood for centuries. Many buildings have wooden balconies and tiled roofs.

One of the highlights of Salas is its old fortifications and towers. Walking up to these spots offers not only a sense of the city’s medieval past but also wide views of the surrounding countryside. The landscape around Salas is made up of rolling hills, farmland, and small rivers, which add to its quiet charm.

After a great morning of exploring the city, we hit the trail toward Bodenaya.

The trails leading into Bodenaya took us through some of Spain’s most peaceful and green landscapes. The path winds through dense forests where tall chestnut and oak trees form a canopy overhead, filtering the light into soft patterns on the ground. Moss covered stones and ferns lined the trail, and in these cooler fall months, the scent of damp leaves filled the air. Birds provided most of the soundtrack, their chirps echoing in the stillness, with only the steady crunch of our boots on soil breaking the quiet.

As the path climbed and dipped, it occasionally opened into clearings. From these vantage points, we could see rolling hills stretching out in shades of green, broken up by farmhouses, meadows, and grazing cattle. The contrast between the shaded woods and the open countryside made the journey feel like it was constantly changing, with each turn offering a new perspective.

The closer I got to Bodenaya, the more I noticed small signs of rural life, stone walls dividing fields, rustic barns, and narrow lanes that hinted at a village ahead. There’s a sense of stepping into a slower rhythm, away from cities and busy roads, into a space where life is tied to the land.

As I approached Bodenaya the hike through the countryside felt both calming and rewarding. The mix of natural beauty, quiet paths, and glimpses of traditional Asturian countryside made the walk memorable.

By the time we arrived at the Albergue, the journey through the forests felt like a natural prelude to arriving in a place that values rest and connection.

The albergue in Bodenaya is one of those places that feels more like a home than a hostel. Housed in a restored stone farmhouse, it blends rustic charm with a warm, welcoming atmosphere. The Albergue has thick stone walls, wooden beams, and cozy furnishings.

I had been especially eager to stay at this albergue, well known along the Camino for the way it makes every pilgrim feel like more than just a traveler passing through. The moment we arrived, we were met at the door by our hosts, Alberto and Allyson, who own, run, and reside in the Albergue. Their genuine smiles set the tone immediately. They welcomed us not just with a simple greeting, but with the warmth of a firm handshake and the comfort of a cool, refreshing glass of water…exactly what weary walkers long for after the day’s journey.

Staying in Bodenaya is not about counting amenities, it’s about being embraced by an experience that lingers long after you’ve left. This albergue is known as a haven of kindness, reflection, and fellowship, where weary pilgrims don’t simply stop for the night, but pause to rediscover the heart of their journey. The warmth of our hosts drew us inward, reminding us all that the Camino is more about connection than it is about distance walked.

That evening, we were invited to gather around the table for a pilgrim dinner lovingly prepared by Allyson. It wasn’t just a meal, it felt like a gift. Each dish carried with it a sense of care and welcome, turning strangers into companions as we shared food, laughter, and stories. In those moments, the walls of the albergue seemed to hold a spirit of community that is rare and unforgettable.

My thoughts:

As I sit and reflect here in Bodenaya, I feel the Camino beginning to settle deeper into me..not just as a physical journey, but as something far more meaningful. The weariness of the road seems lighter in the presence of such kindness, and I’m reminded that this pilgrimage is about more than reaching Santiago. It’s about the people you meet, the moments of shared humanity, and the way places like this renew your spirit. Super grateful to be here!

“When we are no longer able to change a situation, we are challenged to change ourselves.” Viktor Frankl

Today tested me- yet in its own way, it was breathtaking. Kathleen and I set out from Grado in the early morning mist, and were quickly embraced by a forested trail, its canopy a sheltering cathedral of green that carried us toward the small town of Salas. Almost at once, the path tilted upward, demanding effort, and the day became a rhythm of climbing and descending, lungs and legs rising and falling with the land itself.

Within the shade of the woods, the air was cool, the light filtered and gentle, offering moments of calm reprieve. But whenever we stepped out from beneath that protective cover, the sun struck hard—merciless, unrelenting. Heat radiated from every surface, pressing down on us with a weight that forced pause after pause. Water breaks became rituals today.

It was exhausting, yes—but threaded through the sweat and struggle was a fierce beauty. The Camino does not give its gifts freely; it asks for your strength, your persistence. And today, as the trail carried us onward, we paid the price in effort and were rewarded in wonder.

As the afternoon came, I told Kathleen how much I longed for a cold spot to soak my feet. On the Camino Francés I’d come across a few soaking pools, and with today’s relentless heat and the miles behind us, I was craving that same relief. Almost as if on cue, we found one..a shallow pool of icy water. The shock of stepping in made me gasp, but soon the ache in my feet melted away, the coolness seeping up through my legs. It was exactly what I needed.

Overall, I truly enjoyed today’s journey, though I felt my energy fade about half an hour before reaching the small, picturesque mountain town of Salas. I paused in the shade, peeled an orange I’d carried from the albergue this morning, and let the sweet, refreshing juice revive me a bit. By the time I entered town I was hot, drenched in sweat, and more than ready for a cold shower and a place to rest. Kathleen, on the other hand, seemed unfazed by the trail today—she hurried straight across the street to a restaurant, eager to order her favorite meal.

The pilgrim dinner in our albergue was very good… homemade butternut squash soup, a hearty bean chili with bread and wine, and cinnamon chia pudding for dessert. The conversation with fellow pilgrims from the UK, Romania, and Australia was exactly what I needed after my rest.

I’m tired, but feeling good about tomorrow and the next .. which will bring their own challenges.

My thoughts: Today unfolded much as I expected. The relentless sun was draining, quickly sapping my energy, but the cool shade of the forest—with its moss-covered rocks and quiet greenery—offered welcome relief. The steady rhythm of climbs and descents tested me, yet I embraced each challenge with determination. Once again, I was reminded that every uphill push is a chance to stretch myself, and that the privilege of walking the Camino is never lost on me.

“Maybe the journey isn’t so much about becoming anything. Maybe it’s about un-becoming everything that isn’t really you, so you can be who you were meant to be in the first place.” — Paulo Coelho

I set out on the trail hearing the familiar gravel trail crunching softly under my feet, each step steady and grounding. The air carried a delicate scent of eucalyptus, faint but soothing, mixing with the warmth of the sun beneath the blue sky. Slowly, the chatter in my mind began to fade. There was only the rhythm of my breath, the sway of my pack, and the quiet company of a few pilgrims sharing this path..including Kathleen. Out here, surrounded by nature’s simplicity, I feel less like I’m chasing something new and more like I’m returning to myself.

The trail took us through several ascents into beautiful forested areas, across old bridges over streams and rivers, and some breathtaking views. While there are significantly less pilgrims on this path, I’ve already met some amazing people from the UK, Romania, Italy, and Holland. I seem to be the only American today.

As we climbed higher along the path, the world below slowly disappeared under a thick layer of clouds. Looking down on the cover, it felt almost unreal..like the towns and fields had been tucked away under a heavy white blanket. There was a quiet calm in knowing we were above it all, just following the trail with steady steps, stopping to catch my breath on the steep trails, and making sure I didn’t trip on any rocks this time.

Today felt like returning to a part of myself I had been missing. Every stretch of the journey carried its own reward…the steady rhythm of my footsteps, the changing light on the trail, the quiet satisfaction of moving forward mile after mile. By the end of the day, I had covered 28 kilometers, nearly 48,000 steps, each one a reminder of why I love walking this path.

Eventually, the rooftops and church spires of Grado appeared in the distance, shimmering faintly in the afternoon light..the end point of today’s long walk. My shirt clung with sweat, a fine layer of dust covered my legs, and every step reminded me of the miles behind me. My feet ached a bit, but it was the kind of ache that felt earned. I wouldn’t trade it for anything. My reward: an ice cold Coca Cola with ice! 😊

My thoughts:

Today felt like the beginning of a beautiful journey. Tomorrow will bring a steeper challenge with a long climb, so rest is essential tonight. Still, I can’t help but feel deeply grateful…blessed to be here, and more grounded with every step I take. The clean air and this beautiful landscape are already working their quiet magic on me.

If you wait until the right time to start living, you might be waiting forever. Go live your life. Do it sad. Do it anxious. Do it uncertain. Because healing doesn’t always come before the experience. Sometimes the experience is what heals you.

While this Camino journey really began when I landed in Madrid two days ago, it wasn’t until I arrived by train in Oviedo today that I knew I was about to embark on another great, and life changing, adventure. So here I am, in the North of Spain in Oviedo.

Fun fact for you history folks: Oviedo was founded in the 8th century and rose to prominence under King Alfonso II “the Chaste”, who made it the capital of the Kingdom of Asturias. From here, he ordered the construction of many of the city’s famed pre-Romanesque churches and strengthened Oviedo’s role as a political and religious center. Alfonso II is also credited with making the first pilgrimage to Santiago de Compostela after the discovery of St. James’s tomb, establishing the Camino Primitivo as the “Original Way”. This route begins in Oviedo and remains the oldest of all the Camino de Santiago paths, tying the city’s history directly to the origins of Spains most famous pilgrimage.

Stepping off the train in Oviedo, I was struck by how effortlessly European the city feels…grand yet intimate, with layers of history in every stone. As I wandered its streets, the mix of medieval charm and lively plazas drew me in immediately.

After settling into my albergue, I lingered in the old town, letting the rhythm of the city unfold, while I waited for my trail companion. This journey will be a little different: for the first time, I won’t be walking alone. Kathleen—my friend and fellow albergue volunteer—is joining me, and together we’ll take on a good stretch of the Camino Primitivo.

Overall this short stay in Oviedo was fantastic. The Albergue was filled with pilgrims from all over the world and we all settled in for the night excited to begin our journey tomorrow.

My thoughts: I can hardly believe I am blessed with the chance to set out on another Camino. Each step of this journey feels like a gift, one I know not everyone is able to experience, and I hold that deeply in my heart. The thought that tomorrow I’ll be back on the trail, surrounded by beauty, history, and the quiet whispers of countless pilgrims before me, fills me with awe and gratitude. I know the path will test me—it always does—but that challenge is part of its grace. Every climb, every ache, every moment of wonder reminds me why the Camino is never just a “walk”, but a pilgrimage of the soul.