I had often thought I’d like to walk The Camino in Northern Spain but as it turns out there are a number of ways (approximately 12 at present), with a one originating in Holland, Switzerland and France to name but a few. Camino France’s is the most popular and at 790 kms long, it’s quite a commitment. I’d really like to walk all 790 kms, but for the present I’m doing the last 114kms over 5 days with a couple more days in Santiago de Compestilla before I return home.
My intention is to bring a flavour of my experiences along the way.
Day 1. Sarria a to Portomarin.
We left the hotel at approx 8.30 in darkness and the route was shrouded in mist, magical but it hid the fact that we were in a valley and had to climb out of it quite steeply. I felt it was a baptism of fire, I hadn’t expected us to have to climb so soon. I may have considered this walk but was I really prepared for it? I asked myself. I knew I wasn’t prepared for the sheer volume of fellow travellers that we met immediately as we set out. But within a short space of time the crowd thinned and we had beautiful tree-lined woodland walks to ourselves, or walked along gentle streams and I will add photos later.
There is an atmosphere and a camaraderie quite unlike any other I’ve experienced, on other walks with many “Buen Camino’s or Ola! Along the route. Fellow travellers inquired as to where we were from and shared tips and experiences as we passed each other enroute.
As much of the path is on trails, or through tiny hamlets, farmlands and woodlands there is a sense of stepping out of 21st century time and connecting with a timeless energy that is in in tune with nature and her seasons. We witnessed nature’s bounty on the hedgerows, sweet chestnut trees lined our paths as did blackberries bushes and wild apple orchards or the farmers were harvesting crops or ploughing the fields.
When we stopped for coffee in the tiny hamlets with many other travellers, those serving never became overwhelmed by the volume of customers, offering instead a ” momento por favore” and there many a pleasant greeting shared in those moments.
As we approached Portmarin the low level of the river Mino revealed the remains of the old bridge, terraces and a riverbank settlement that time forgot.
Ger Moroney 