Part of traveling anywhere that is not “home” is experiencing (and hopefully enjoying) the local cuisine. The Camino is no different. Each region has its own unique twists on common themes. And when burning 5,000 calories per day, there’s amply opportunity to try them all. So what’s the food like in Spain? Read on to find out!

Breakfast

It’s the most important meal of the day, right? Breakfast in Spain is simple. Most mornings my breakfast was a pastry of some sort—usually a chocolate croissant—and coffee.

Cafe con Leche and postre

But not just any coffee—cafe con leche. I don’t know what alchemy Spanish cafe owners practice but they take coffee, milk, sugar, and turn it into this delightful elixir unlike anything I’ve had before—and I was a barista . It’s not a latte. Its not cafe au lait. Neither is it Cuban coffee and it is definitely not coffee with milk and sugar. That said, like much of Europe, you are not going to find a “bottomless cup” of coffee like was have in many restaurants in the US. And if you don’t want cafe con leche, you can always order a cafe americano (coffee + hot water) or cafe negro (coffee without water or milk).

Second Breakfast

About two hours after you finish breakfast, you’ve probably walked around 10km… a little over 6 miles. Time to gas up! For me this meant another cafe con leche and, probably a glass of fresh squeezed orange juice. To each I would have some variation of toast (with butter, with butter and jelly, with ham, with egg, with ham and egg—get the picture?). Spaniards call this tostada (sorry Taco Bell, yours doesn’t cut it). Occasionally I would get a tortilla—think frittata, but not baked.

Bocadilla

While stopped for my second breakfast, I would make sure I refilled my water bottle, got a stamp for my credencial, and did my first changing over of socks—to prevent blisters. Yep, I’d have second breakfast barefoot. When it was time to go, I’d don fresh socks, clip the already worn ones to my pack, and head out.

A couple of hours later it would be time to cycle The socks because its now time for—

Lunch

The most common lunch food I had was a bocadilla—very crusty bread, Spanish ham (jamon iberico), and—if you’re lucky—a little olive oil. I cannot tell you how spoiled I was eat fresh baked bread and not sandwich loaf slice. And the ham—thinly sliced and dry cured (but not smoked). I don’t know how they do it but its amazing. To wash it down, there’s always water, cafe con leche, or the regional American-style lager—low gravity but refreshing.

Jamon Iberico—hoof and all!

After that, its time to get the pack back on and head back on The Way because you’ve probably got another 2 hours of walking before arriving at where you are going to sleep or where ever you are going to stop for:

Afternoon Snack

If it’s going to be a long day walking, you’ll need to keep your energy up. Maybe its time for a slice of Santiago cake and cafe con leche. Some folks simply sat down at a cafe and ordered a beer or two before finishing out their walking for the day.

Once in town and settled for the evening, its time for:

Dinner

An early dinner (5 or 6). There’s a couple of different options for dinner. Some pilgrims will huddle together with other pilgrims and cook for one another. This is a great community building exercise and a way to learn about other cultures. Sometimes the folks running the alburgue will offer a meal, for a nominal extra fee. If you’re staying at one of the more rural alburgues, this might be your only option for dinner. In the larger towns you can eat at restaurants—most of whom will have a three-course pilgrim menu:

First Course—pasta, salad, or soup

Second Course—some kind of meat, fries

Third Course—Santiago cake, cheese cake, ice cream

On the table—bread, red wine

All of this food for 10 Euro! Is it the best food you ever ate? No. Is it tasty with plenty of calories (again, remember you’re burning as much as 5,000 calories per day). Of course!

Regional Variation

There’s things you’ll want to try along the way:

  • In Galicia: Pulpo (Octopus), Galego soup, Paella
  • In Basque Region: cheese, Pinxtos (basque tappas)
  • Rioja: wine!
  • Anywhere west of Rioja: Tapas
  • Anywhere: churros and chocolate
Churros y chocolate

Just remember, some of these regional special meals—tapas, pinxtos, pulpo, paella will blow your budget. So save and spend accordingly.

What’s the Bill?

If you budget 40 Euro per day for food, you’ll live like a king. Need to economize? Buy breakfast and a picnic lunch in the local market. Drink water. Keep your discipline to the pilgrim menu at night. You can get by for 20-25 Euro per day this way.

While it is foolish to think that there’s no preparation involved in walking The Way of St. James, its also… convenient… to think that it takes years of preparation to walk. In fact, it is one of the simpler trips to plan.

How Long Do You Have?

For most of us that are not retired or between jobs, we may or may not have unlimited time. Family, work, and other responsibilities can dictate how much time you have. Also, maybe you are worried about distances. Generally, folks can travel 20-30km per day. That’s 120-180 km if you walk 6 days and rest 1 (a recommended practice). At an average of 160km per week, you could finish from St. Jean Pied-de-Port in 5 weeks But, if that’s not appealing, there’s a myriad of starting points but the major cities seem to be:

Buy a Ticket

After you figure out how much time you’ve got, everyone I’ve talked to, every blog I’ve read, every podcast I’ve listened to begins with this advice—buy your ticket. When it comes to large international airports, you have 3 options:

  • Madrid
    • Hub for Iberia Airlines. One World Alliance, of which American Airlines is a part.
    • Served by Delta (Sky Team), United (Star Alliance).
    • You can get to your starting point via rail, bus, or a combination.
  • Paris
    • Hub for Air France (Again, Delta’s Sky Team)
    • Also served by Star Alliance and One World Alliance airlines
    • Mainly for folks who which to start in St. Jean Pied-de-Port or other locations in France.
    • Folks usually take a high-speed train to southwest France (Biarritz) and then catch a local train or bus to St. Jean Pied-de-Port.
  • Barcelona
    • Not a major hub but served by the major Airlines—either as a connecting flight or direct year-round from a few location, with more seasonally.
    • Sometimes it is cheaper to get to your starting point because, while it might be marginally more expensive to get to Barcelona from the US, it can be cheaper to get from Barcelona to where you want to start.

I’m sure folks have their favorite travel sites but let me recommend:

  • Scott’s Cheap Flights. This is a curated list of sales, date entry errors, and generally cheap flights. Select your home airport, the part of the world to which you’d like to travel and you’ll get emails when a deal pops.
  • Kayak and Google flights are good.
  • For me, I travelled on skymiles (Avios Points, actually). The original plan was to fly through London but it turned out cheaper to fly through Miami to Madrid—simply because of taxes and landing fees for Heathrow.
  • Once you get in Spain, Rome2Rio is an amazing site and app. It can tell you very possible way to get from point A to point B, and the cost.

Buy Your Pack

This is simply the single most important purchase you will make. Factors to consider include:

  • Size—35-45L is plenty. Any smaller and you risk an uncomfortable load. Much more and you’ll either carry more than you need or have a ridiculously empty pack.
  • Fit. Do not under-estimate this. Fit is everything. Historically, I’ve been a Gregory guy. Also, I know that the general public loves Osprey packs—they’re everywhere on the trail. They’re got good features—especially straps to carry your poles without having a friend unstrap them from the back of your pack and a suspension system that keeps the airflow between your back and your pack. But when I looked at what fit my needs and my long frame the best, it was the REI pack. The only two complaints I had about my pack—no daisy chains and side pockets—were fixed on the 2019 version of the pack.
  • While you don’t need to wear your backpack every time you go for a walk, it is a good idea to get used to the weight and make sure it works for you over a long hike.

Get Fitted for Shoes

This is the other major purchase you’ll need to make—and make it early. You’ll want to not only break your shoes in but go on several long walks to make sure your shoes fit well and don’t rub. A word of warning—I broke my shoes in, wore then on long and short walks and never had an issue. In Spain, I couldn’t keep my heel from slipping and wound up with blisters on both heels—ouch!! I survived but if I was walking longer, I would have had issues.

What shoes did people wear?

  • Most people wore low-cut boots, like the Merrell MOAB2’s I wore.
  • A smaller group of folk wore trail running shoes.
  • A much smaller group of people wore ankle-length or higher boots.

Folks that wore a fuller boot were comfortable with the familiarity but didn’t like the weight. Trail runners loved the weight but sometimes felt like they didn’t have a rigid enough shoe for some sections. Low-cut boot folks felt good about their choice but wondered if the lighter trail runner would work.

Another question folk ask about their shoes is whether to wear Gore-tex or not. I chose not—to wear ventilated shoes, as they are called. While you can keep your feet a little bit more dry when walking through puddles, on a rainy day it won’t matter. What does matter is that Gore-Tex boots are hotter and if your feet sweat even the least bit, this can raise your potential for blister. Just like there’s no one type of shoe, there not a right answer to this one, either.

For people who walk long distances of a Camino…. possibly those that are that walk shorter distances alone… find themselves walking with others at a similar pace. Of those, you’ll get along with some more than others. The ones you get along with become your Camino Family.

What does a Camino Family do? They will look out for one another, share meals, tend to try to stay in the same alburgues, etc.

Since I walked with a very long time friend and we hadn’t caught up in a few years, we kinda stuck to ourselves. If there had been a Camino Family, here’s who mine would have been:

The first folks I met on the Camino was a family—husband, wife, and adult daughter. Given my daughter’s determination that our family, of the same composition, will walk the Camino in a few year, I was intrigued. Every year the family did a big adventure and the Camino was their 2019 adventure. We saw them a lot the first day we walked and then nothing until the last day. We must up on Monte Gozo.. Mountain of Joy.

It was this family that took the above photo. We reciprocated, exchanged pleasantries and went on our way. We didn’t see them again.

We met a young man that was taking the summer off his consulting job before heading to Law School. We never stayed in the same alburgue or walked together but we ended up stopping at the same places for food… a lot. So we shared several meals, coffees, and snack breaks. The last time we visited over a meal was in Santiago over tapas—a true delight.

One of the lessons I realized I needed to re-learned on the Camino was talking with folks just for the sake of talking—no agenda, no “sizing up” as to whether they could be a donor, no opening question of “what do you do for a living?”, Just acknowledging each other’s common humanity and that, for a season, we’re sharing a common journey. In church work, many times when we ask someone about their faith journey or ministry they tell us what committees they serve on. When we meet someone in our communities, do we acknowledge them as a fellow human being and beloved child of God before we objectify them as a potential church member? This isn’t an anti-evangelizing statement. Rather, its an acknowledgement that non-churched folk can smell inauthenticity and objectification a mile away. As my wife says, instead of trying to get people to like us, are we adding value to their lives?

The standing greeting on the Camino… to everyone is “Buen Camino”… “Good Way”. You say it to everyone you meet that is a fellow pilgrim and every merchant of any sort that serves you sends you forth with this blessing.

One of my take-always from the Camino is seeking to—in some way big or small—bless the lives of each person with whom I come in contact. And it also starts with recognizing we’re all fellow sojourner on the way.

One of the gifts that the Church received in the second half of the 20th Century was the liturgical renewal movement–both in the Roman Church as well as Protestantism. Ironically, both happened in response to the Second Vatican Council’s Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy. There was an explosion of interest and activity in rewriting our liturgies loosely based on the same text given to the church by Hippolytus.

I have always relished that when I, a United Methodist, lead worship it is essentially in the same shape (and using many of the same words) as all the other flavors and tribes of Christianity. It has helped us live a little closer to Jesus’ prayer that we might be one.

Walking into a pilgrim mass, I didn’t know what to expect but in retrospect I should have. The priest was praying many of the same words I do when I lead worship. So I could connect with the service. Also, this meant that when there were congregational responses–the Creed, The Lord’s Prayer, the Benedictus Qui Venice, the Memorial Acclamation, or others I not only knew where we were in the service but I could join in and pray the prayers in my own language.

Walking away from the Pilgrim Mass, my friend (an Episcopal Priest) and I were reflecting upon this phenomenon. We were approached by a younger British pilgrim–whom I believe remember her saying she started in Paris. She asked us if we understood the service so we explained not exactly the Spanish but how we knew the same service in English. She was someone who was not a person of faith but attended the masses. She had walked for weeks on end and these last 100km were valedictory as much as anything.

She kept asking questions… there was an openness there. Probably not looking to profess faith in Christ but at least process what she had experienced along this Christian pilgrimage route.I regret that as we were all turning towards the restaurants we parted company with her. My friend wanted pizza and, apparently, it was in a different direction.

We have so much more in common than what separates us and there’s a real strength in that. It seems as if we’re so bent to be original and innovative in the fleeting moment that we forget the rich shared language we have as a resource.

I think this rich legacy might be part of the renewed interest in The Way of St. James. We can speak of Ley Lines, the Milky Way, or even appropriate whatever sensibilities. But the Camino is deeply rooted in a 1,000 year old Christian tradition. And there’s power in that. There was no difference in the dirt I walked on in Spain versus the dirt I walk on in the Georgia Mountains. The purpose is different, the destination is different and who has walked on that dirt is definitely different–Francis of Assisi, El Cid, Charlemagne, even Jed Bartlett!!

Tying into a deep tradition and finding belonging are two of the pieces I think churches need to pay heed to. How do we help those walking into our doors find those things without having to fly across the Atlantic? And how do we help people ask their questions, process them, and either ask deeper questions or live into the responses?

Yeah, there’s lessons for the Church on the Camino, as well.

Like many experiences that have any age on them and help give shape to meaning, The Camino is often spoken about in metaphor or aphorisms.

One of them “The Camino Provides” is part of what captivated me about the whole endeavor. The thought goes something like this—walking on the Way of St. James, you really only need to take the things you absolutely need. For one, who wants to schlep across the Iberian Peninsula with something that you might only use twice–a travel pillow, for instance. Every ounce you can take out of your backpack means that much less wear and tear on the legs, knees, ankles, and feet. Also, many of the Camino Routes–especially the Frances and Portuguese–are resourced enough such that anything you need and isn’t in your backpack can be purchased. More than likely, though, there’s another pilgrim walking with you or staying in an alburgue with you that is more than willing to share. So in a very real sense, “The Camino Provides” applies to tangible items.

But the aphorism also points to the lyrics from The Rolling Stones…. you don’t always get what you want, but if you try, sometimes, you find you get what you need. There are countless pilgrims tales of folks walking all day, coming into town late only to find that the alburgue they had highlighted in their book was full and they had to stay in another one. That, or, folks had to sleep on the floor. Desirable? No. Did they get a place to stay? Yes. One such story that I read (and can’t find) was that all the alburgues were full in the town and the pilgrim was told there was a restaurant in the next village that could put her up. The pilgrim was imagining that they would be spending the night sleeping on a table or the floor…. maybe some chairs ganged together. That she discovered was the restaurant had just finished building an alburgue. She got to stay in it and, because the CO was yet to be given, the owner could charge. So it was free.

The Camino Provides. Yes it provided lodging but it also provided an opportunity for hospitality, to trust, and an invitation to adventure. In our work-a-day lives where everything is structured, everything is predictable, and everything is double-checked and verified–the Camino invites you to consider opening yourself up to a little ambiguity.

You Carry Your Worries in Your Backpack

I heard about this aphorism in the later stages of planning for my Camino. Again the saying in multi-layered. If you are really worried about not having enough clothes, you overpack on clothes. If you are afraid that you will run out water, you’ll carry multiple water bottles. If you are afraid that you’ll get blisters, you’ll carry boxes full of your favorite blister pad/ barrier.

But it works on another level as well. Confessionally, I’m embarrassed at my relatively paltry Spanish. While I didn’t carry my best friend–rather fluent in Spanish–around in my backpack, every time I ran into something that required more than muttering 2 or 3 words I would defer to my friend to translate. I also hate being the cliche. One of those cliches was that American pilgrims are always the ones to arrive last at the alburgue and the last to leave the alburgue. Well, we were the last folks leaving each morning. Why did that matter to me? I said it was because I didn’t want the alburgue hosts thinking we were ungrateful or get in their way cleaning up. But, if I’m honest, I just don’t like looking like I’m not “in the know”.

So What Was in My Backpack?

Folks always want to know what you carry on the Camino. If you search YouTube, you can find a plethora of packing lists and gear reviews. Here’s mine:

Backpack: REI Flash 45 (2018 Model). This pack was more than enough room. You really only need 35 Liters in your bag. 45 was overkill. But the pack fit my long frame and (slowly diminishing) gut better than others. The pack cover was useful on rainy days but the travel lock was not used. In my top pocket was my Brierley book and a waterproof bag with my wallet, my phone, my credencial, and my passport.FIrst Aid, Sewing, and Emergency TP:

All I used here was the Compeed, Triple-Antibiotic and Advil. Everything else was superfluous.Sleeping Bag: I took an REI 50F Bag. I also used the gray waterproof compression stuff sack. Worked like a charm to shrink the sleeping bag down as much as possible. The green thing on the left is a sleep sheet. It didn’t get hot enough to use that instead of the sleeping bag. If I ever go back I’ll take one or the other, not both.Electronics kit (kept in a mesh stuff sack): the international travel charger with 4 USB ports was a winner (and friend maker!!). The earbuds were useful for music. The headlamp I used once. I’d take all three again. The cord that came with the charger worked on Lightning and had an adaptor for USB micro. Not pictured is a small lithium-ion battery that I used to keep my Apple Watch charged.Hard wear: Extra carabiners, extra trekking pole tip covers, diaper pins and bulldog clips, compact day pack, clothes line, laundry soap. Only ever used the day bag. But the rest was there just in case. And its all light.Toiletries and pack towel–’nuff said. I did like the Dr. Bonner’s peppermint bar soap and the tiny “dry bag” for the bar.Foot lotion, sunscreen, Peppermint foot powder. While all this stuff made it to Spain, everything but the three items I identified didn’t make it out of the airport.Socks and underwear. Gross confession–I have sweaty feet. I took 2x the socks as I did outfits. And I changed my socks every time we stopped for a break. I think that’s why I didn’t have too many blisters. Base layer/ underwear? I doubled up as well, not knowing about accessibility to washing clothes. It wasn’t an issue. Extra clothes items: glove liners, toboggan, flip flops, wide-brim hat, extra boot laces, rain jacket, 2 buffs. I used all of these except the laces. Flip flops were for the shower and walking around without my boots. So you really only need 2 outfits–today’s clothes (the ones on your back) and tomorrow’s clothes (the ones in your backpack) . Both outfits were zip-off quick dry pants. The shirts were wicking/ quick dry shirts. I also brought a pair of soccer shorts and 1 cotton shirt to wear after I showered/ as pj’s. I rarely used them. Instead, I just went ahead and put on “tomorrow’s clothes” after my shower. Not pictured: I took a down jacket that folded up into one pocket. The idea was it could double as a pillow. I used the jacket in the mornings a couple of days. Never used it as a pillow. Also, trekking poles. I used them almost all the time. They were amazing. Shoes? I wore Merrill MOAB2 low-cut, ventilated. They served me well. Ankle height boots are overkill for many and trail runners, so I understand, aren’t enough support for cobblestone sections. Lastly, I had a copy of St. Teresa of Avila’s The Interior Castle. It was amazing to read her in her own country.

What a great question.

It was our second night on the Camino and the only night where we had to do a little bit of searching of beds to sleep in.

Before continuing this story, a little background. There’s a distinct rhythm and etiquette to Camino life. When you’re done walking for the day, you find where you are sleeping that night. Once secured, you check out your bunk for bed bugs (rare but unpleasant), roll out your sleeping bag on your bed, head to the shower, clean your clothes (usually with a wash sink and clothes line; occasionally in a washer/ dryer), and rest. Somewhere in there you check out your feet, evaluate your gear (is there anything I can get rid of), catch up with fellow pilgrims and figure out dinner. After dinner there’s further socializing with fellow pilgrims and potentially attending a pilgrims’ mass. Lights out around 10—something I graciously welcomed each night.

Back to the really great question.

I was sitting there on the edge of my bunk, my hand buried deep in my pack. I was looking for my travel towel and toiletry bag. I wanted a shower as soon as possible as we had just walked 27 kilometers. Across the room were these two British retired nurses. They were a few steps ahead of us in the evening albergue liturgy. After exchanging pleasantries–where’s home, small talk about the weather and condition of the roads (really? What was this,a Jane Austen novel?), and discussion as to whether or not to eat the community meal in-house or seek out a meal elsewhere–one of the ladies asked my friend and I, “So, do you consider yourself a pilgrim or would you say you’re on holiday.” We replied,”pilgrim” to which questioner replied, “how refreshing”.

A little more explanation:

The Camino de Santiago has experienced a dramatic increase in participation. In 2007 114,000 people walked the Camino. By 2018 the number had grown above 300,000–surpassing best estimates of pilgrims walking to Santiago during the height of its popularity just prior to the Reformation.

While “back in the day” everyone walking to Santiago was doing so because of their Christian faith (seeking a plenary indulgence for themselves or on behalf of someone else, seeking intercession for a health concern, or even a criminal sentenced to make pilgrimage to atone for their crime) the modern resurgence of The Way of St. James does not find everyone walking to Santiago doing so because of or in response to their faith. I’ll write more on the phenomenally explosive growth in interest in the Camino–and what the church might be able to learn from it–but for this post’s purpose it is good to note that people walk to Santiago for many reasons, not all of them religious. And this fascinates me.

In fact, to receive a Compostela certificate from the pilgrim office (an extension of the Cathedral) you must attest that your are walking for religious or spiritual reasons. You don’t have to be baptized, profess faith, be Roman Catholic, or consider yourself a Christian. You can be a seeker, a questioner, or even someone of another faith or no faith. If you can’t honestly say you are walking for religious or spiritual reasons, though, you receive a different kind of document from the pilgrims office–a Certificate of Distance. Those receiving a Compostela can also receive a certificate of distance, if they like.

So what’s the difference between being a pilgrim and “on holiday”? Intent, expectation, and disposition seems to have something to do with this distinction. Not that all pilgrims a somber, pious persons while those on holidays are the happy go lucky, half-drunk through-hiker. But there does seem to be something about approach. Do you receive each new day as a gift? Are you in a posture to receive whatever the day brings you–the terrain, people with whom you’ll be walking, the person serving you your 2nd Coffee 2 hours in on today’s walk towards Santiago, the weather, the conversations, the silence? Or is each day simply something to be tolerated, something to be rushed through in order to check another day off an itinerary of cheap accommodation, cheap food, and plenteous libation?

Not that these are mutually exclusive, mind you. I thoroughly enjoyed cafe con leche and my morning postre, bocadilla for lunch, and the evening’s pilgrim menu (more on food in a later post).

In life beyond the Camino de Santiago, do we think of ourselves a pilgrims on a jourmey–do we understand ourselves as on trajectory towards the source of our life with God? Or do we think of life as something nihilistic–void of meaning and simply to be endured or everything is so subjective that there’s no sense of a common life? Are we pilgrims or simply on holiday?

This is as good a place to start as any: Why take time away from work and family to head to Santiago de Compostela. I mean, there are plenty of ways to spend a week’s vacation, including:

  • burying your feet in the sand at the nearest beach.
  • If you want to spend a week hiking there’s always section hiking part of the Appalachian Trail.
  • If it’s Europe and backpacks you want, making your way through Europe, you can find a plethora of hostels–youth or otherwise–in any major European city.
  • For visiting sites considered holy to Christians, there are vastly more important Christian sites in Israel/ Palestine, Rome… even Turkey.

But why Compostela? A week after standing in front of the Cathedral built to house St. James’ remains, I can’t give a sound bite answer. Not yet, maybe never. But, like many things in life, my interest began with a story.

Eight years ago, I was part of a clergy group that made pilgrimage to Israel/ Palestine. One of the participants was a campus ministry. As we were getting to know each other, she recounted he story of having taken a group of college students to walk this as-yet-unknown-to-me trail in Northern Spain. She described what has now become familiar and endearing to me–the cash economy, albergues aplenty, cafes in almost every hamlet, and the aphorism that “the Camino provides.” When I asked for an example she shared the story of a college student coming from a privileged background–the student was well-traveled upon entering college. As such, this student felt like they knew everything there was to know about world travel–especially Europe.

One of the throw-back parts of the Camino is that, by and large, the Camino is a cash-based economy (more on that later). With this knowledge, begin to paint the picture of this well-travelled teenager from whom every scenario could be solved by paying with their credit card, of which parents paid the bill. This expectation crashed into the reality of the Camino when it came time to pay. I honestly don’t remember if it was for a meal or for lodging. At any rate, this student learned the lesson of the Camino provided early on. All along the way others not in her group, having heard her surprise and desperation when her cards were not accepted as payment, paid for all of her expenses. And when an ATM finally appeared along their way, none of her benefactors would accept payment. They simply said, “Buen Camino!”

I was hooked.

I had to find out more about this Camino thing. I mean, what was is about that place and journey that moved people to that kind of generosity to give–and humility to receive!

For years timing was never right–not enough time, not enough money, language barriers, family responsibilities… the list goes on and on. But when my best and longest-serving friend (since 1987!!) was ordained a priest in May of 2018–his 3rd career–I told him on the morning of his ordination “let’s celebrate your 1 year anniversary of ordination in Santiago de Compostela.”

And we did.

Over the next few weeks I’ll be sharing lessons learned on The Way and reflections as the journey continues back at home. I’ll also… probably early on… share the resources that were helpful to my preparation and what, if anything, would I do differently.