Camino Francés

I walked the Camino Francés in spring 2026 — roughly 800 kilometres from Saint-Jean-Pied-de-Port to Santiago de Compostela, then onward to the Atlantic at Fisterra and Muxía. A long, strange, beautiful compression algorithm for life: fewer choices, more walking, and an unusual amount of clarity in exchange.

~900kilometres on foot
~40days walking
39stops logged
1Compostela collected
The journey

Walking west, one day at a time

The Camino turns distance into routine. Wake up early, pack badly, find coffee, walk through whatever the day gives you, check into an albergue, do it again. Somewhere in that repetition the route stops being dramatic and starts being honest.

I started in Saint-Jean-Pied-de-Port with too much in my pack — physically and otherwise. The first day crosses the Pyrenees: 25 kilometres, 1400 metres of altitude gain, and a very quick lesson in what you actually need versus what you thought you did.

By week two, the weight was down, the pace was steadier, and the conversations with strangers had gotten significantly more interesting. There's something about the Camino that makes people open up: everyone's carrying something, literally or not, and the walking gives you time to talk about it without it feeling forced.

HIGHLIGHTS

Six moments that stayed with me

Mar 8 · before SJPDP

Walter, in the rain

My train to the Pyrenees got cancelled and I had a hostel waiting in Saint-Jean-Pied-de-Port. So I put my thumb up along the road.

Fifteen minutes and fifteen cars later, I get picked up by Walter. He decides to bring me all the way to SJPDP, even though he only meant to go to the next town over. What a kind man — took a 30-minute detour so I didn't have to stand in the rain. Shoutout Walter.
Mar 9 · Day 1 · Pyrenees

Crossing into Spain

The first walking day — Saint-Jean over the Pyrenees to Roncesvalles. 24 kilometres, ~1,400 metres of climb, and a duty-free bottle of Rioja the moment I crossed the border.

21:00, I'm going to bed. In the end today I had about 39,000 steps. Statistics.
Mar 10 · Roncesvalles → Urdániz

A Bib Gourmand in sandals

I'd just walked out of the Pyrenees and into a tiny village in the middle of nowhere — where, somehow, a two-Michelin-star restaurant with a Bib Gourmand menu was hiding.

If you know me, you know one thing: I never skip a Bib. So while all the Spaniards here are dressed up, I'm enjoying the food in socks and sandals.
Mar 16 · Logroño

Wine country, alone with the bodega

21 kilometres in, into the capital of Rioja. Climbed 139 steps to the top of the cathedral. Booked a wine tasting and bodega tour expecting a group — got a private one instead.

Pintxos and wine. Life of a pilgrim is so hard. Someone get me out of here already.
Mar 22 · Burgos → Hontanas

Into the Meseta

The pilgrim handbook talks about three challenges of the Camino: body (the early climbs), mind (the flat Meseta), and heart (the final stretch). Today the body was done. The mind was next.

Right now I entered the second challenge with the Meseta. Let's see! I found a guitar at the hostel though! Cool!
Apr 19 · Cee → Fisterra

The edge of the world

After Santiago, three more days of walking west to the cape. The Romans thought this was where the land ended.

Emotional moment when I walked to the edge of the world and realized the journey westward has come to an end. Weird feeling when I turned my back towards the ocean and walked back to the town of Fisterra; I won't go westbound any longer.
THE ROUTE

Every stop, plotted

Click a marker for that day's notes. Pan, zoom, and follow the line west.

CLOSING THOUGHTS

Two parts that don't show up in the stats

On the Meseta

The part everyone warns you about

The Meseta — the long flat stretch across the central plateau — has a reputation for breaking pilgrims. No shade, no dramatic scenery, just wheat fields and sky and the sound of your own footsteps for days on end.

I loved it. Turns out I'm fine being alone with my thoughts for extended periods. The AI research probably helped with that.

The Meseta strips away distraction and leaves you with the walk itself. If you fight it, it's miserable. If you accept it, it's almost meditative. Somewhere in there I started listening to the Silmarillion as I walked — and the empty land became a strange kind of stage for it.

On finishing

You think Santiago is the end. It isn't.

The note I wrote on the day from Santa Irene to Santiago was three words long: It's done. That should have been the end of the story.

It wasn't. Three more days west and I was standing at Fisterra with the Atlantic ahead and nowhere left to walk. My sister and her boyfriend joined me for those final kilometres. The next day we walked north to Muxía, and that was the last hiking day.

Then, for the first time since France, I got on something that wasn't my legs. The strangeness of that took a while to wear off.