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Spirituality

How I Accidentally Ended Up Walking the Camino de Santiago

I was in France for a wedding. Two weeks later I was crossing the Pyrenees with a borrowed backpack. Here's how it happened.

November 29, 2025 · 7 min read

I'd never planned to walk the Camino. I knew it existed in the way you know any famous trail exists — vaguely, somewhere on a list.

Then a friend's wedding in Bayonne fell through, my flight home wasn't for two weeks, and I had no plan. The hotel owner asked, in the casual French way: 'You're not walking the Camino?'

I bought a backpack at a Decathlon outside Bayonne. Borrowed a sleeping bag from the hotel's lost-and-found. Took the bus to Saint-Jean-Pied-de-Port the next morning.

Day one over the Pyrenees nearly broke me. I had no map, no idea about stages, and the wrong shoes. By the time I reached Roncesvalles, I'd decided to quit.

I didn't quit. I don't entirely know why. Something about the rhythm of the next morning — strangers becoming friends, the way the trail tells you what to do — kept me walking.

Thirty-one days later I walked into Santiago. I haven't been the same person since. I've walked two more Caminos and I think I'll walk many more.

If you're reading this and considering it: just go. The trail will take care of the rest.