El Camino de Santiago, or the Way of St. James, is a blanket term that applies to a number of several long-distance footpaths leading to Santiago de Compostela, a city in northwest Spain. Pilgrims have been walking along these famed routes to reach the city’s cathedral and venerate the relics of St. James, one of the 12 Apostles of Jesus Christ, since times medieval. Modern-day tourists have embraced the pilgrimage concept as well, flocking to Spain in record numbers. These spiritual journeys can be undertaken on foot, by bicycle, or even on horseback.  

Five years ago, I kicked off a tour along Spain’s northern coast with a visit to Santiago de Compostela. Its jumbled, hilly medieval lanes and hints of Celtic culture held a certain magnetic charm, but the most striking experience I had by far there was standing in front of the cathedral and watching a steady stream of pilgrims completing the emotion-wrought final steps of their journeys. Struck by both the physical and spiritual aspects of such an undertaking, I vowed someday I’d be among them.

Getting Started

It’s a commonly held belief that the Camino has life lessons to teach, even for non-Catholics and the completely undevout. In order to truly embrace it, many will spend weeks underway, the uncomplicated rhythm of walking, tending to one’s daily needs and conversing with fellow pilgrims allowing the concerns of the life one left behind to gradually slip away.

Although I knew it would be difficult to find a period when I could be gone for weeks at a time, my desire to walk the Camino never diminished. I wondered if I could do the walk in a much shorter time frame without disrespect to the magnitude of the endeavor. My chance to find out appeared in the form of an invitation to visit friends in Portugal which regrettably fell through. With a flight to Spain all booked and paid for and five days at my disposal, I opted to take on a massively abridged version of the pilgrim’s journey. 

As I’d done plenty of research on the Camino since that memorable first trip, I knew I would need to walk a minimum distance of 100 kilometers before reaching Santiago for my walk to qualify as a pilgrimage. When charting my course, I settled on a coastal variation of The Portuguese Way, which gets its start in Lisbon. What appealed to me about the route was a deviation which allows pilgrims to complete a section of the journey by boat.

Day One

Following a late-evening arrival in Santiago, I woke early the next day and took an hour-long journey by train to the city of Vigo, Spain. To officially document the start of my pilgrimage, I dropped in to the tourist office and collected the first stamp in my “credencial,” the booklet that serves as the pilgrim’s passport. 

Quickly bidding farewell to Vigo’s port, I trekked past large modern sculptures and through an artsy neighborhood before reaching a highway running parallel to the coast. While sharing the first ten miles of walking with a steady stream of traffic wasn’t optimal, sweeping views over the broad, sparkling blue estuary and a majestic suspension bridge was a visual feast for someone living far from any ocean. 

Once I’d passed the town of Redondela, the path began to take on the form in which I’d know it from here on in, a mostly paved track running alternately through forests and villages with tidy, flower-bedecked homes and ancient churches. I loved the sight of the “hórreos,” stone granaries with slotted walls raised off the ground by pillars typical to the region of Galicia. The routes was marked by a blue trail marker bearing the image of a scallop shell. 

After a solid day’s walking under a relentlessly sunny sky, my goal, the city of Pontevedra, came as a welcome view. I’d read that finding accommodation in one of the many “albergues,” the hostels specifically catering to pilgrims along these routes, would be easy and inexpensive.

Day Two 

Key to making the route I had chosen work within my limited time frame was reaching the city of Vilanova de Arousa by nightfall; from there, I would need to catch a ferry early the following day. Combining two stages of the Spiritual Variant, a recently created sub-route of the Portuguese Way, was a challenge that pushed me to close to the edge. Highlights of this extremely long day of walking included a bagpiper playing his music at the Poio Monastery, a stop for refreshment and photo ops in the captivating fisherman’s village of Combarro, and walking along the Route of Stone and Water, a shady riverside path passing mossy rocks and the ruins of long-abandoned water mills. 

Dusk was gathering and it was well past 10 p.m. by the time I trudged to my destination, the distant sounds of a band playing 80s rock music serving as my welcome. Here, the local sports hall provided pilgrims with beds for the night, and room was still available.

Day Three

From Vilanova de Arousa, a boat carries tourists and pilgrims along the Ulla River to the city of Padrón. Legend holds that this route, known as the Translatio, retraces the way St. James’ body was returned to the Iberian Peninsula on a stone boat following his beheading by King Herod Agrippa I of Judea in 44 A.D. The route is dotted on either side by ancient stone crosses and framed by rolling hills. 

As the river is tidal, the ferry’s departure time is changed constantly to coincide with high tide. The boat set off at 8 a.m., and an hour later we docked in Padrón, where the Spiritual Route rejoins the Portuguese Way.

With its market Sunday and European Union elections taking place, Padrón hummed with activity. After a plate of the tasty fried peppers named after the town, I located the trail marker and melded into the company of numerous fellow pilgrims.

The first city landmark I saw from afar was not, as expected, the spires of the famous cathedral. Instead I was closing in on a massive Ferris wheel, as it turned out, part of a lively fun fair taking place in the city’s Alameda Park. The brash lights and strident sounds of a fun fair were hardly what I’d expected to encounter on the final miles of my pilgrimage. Perhaps it had been there to serve as a contrast to the late-evening quiet of the cathedral square.

Departure

Following a blissful sleep in a private room, I set off the next morning to the Pilgrim’s Reception Office, where documentation confirming completion of a pilgrimage is issued. Here, among this crowd, my niggling sense of guilt for having blitzed the route dissolved, and I understood the personal nature of the Camino: it really is whatever you wish to make of it. And with so many routes to choose from, there’s a fair chance I’ll be back on the trail soon enough – perhaps, next time, for longer.

Yet, already, I am a pilgrim. I have the paper to prove it. And perhaps I’ve gained some wisdom that’s yet to be revealed. 

Before you start a pilgrimage

• Countless online forums connect would-be pilgrims with those who’ve completed the journey. Reading their stories is a testament to the moving and highly personal nature of the experience. 

• When I completed my trip in late May, midday temperatures were already reaching the high 80s. I can only imagine how grueling this walk would be at the height of summer. 

• Finding reasonably priced hostel accommodation really did prove easy in my case; again, I chalk this up to having done it in the shoulder season. Leave it too late in the season, however, and you run the risk of finding much of the lodgings for pilgrims shut tight for the year.

• If you’re seeking the certificate of completion, be sure to obtain a credential and get it stamped at every possible church and hostel. It’s necessary to collect two stamps per day at a minimum on the last 100 km of your journey.

• Pilgrims walking for weeks on end by necessity wield heavy and cumbersome backpacks. Since my trip was so short, I had a small pack that weighed just a few pounds. For me, the joy of traveling so lightly was what made all the difference.