Part One: Eight days hiking the Camino via Saint James, the French way

Forward motion is medicine for the stretched spirit. Whether that be by the choices we make to propel us forward in life or simply by courageously putting one foot in front of the other. 

My spirit reached a low point last year. Like Bilbo Baggins, I was butter spread over too much bread. 

Never proponents for wallowing in a tough spot, The Husband and I decided to hike a section of the Camino de Santiago. The pilgrimage to the tomb of Saint James at the Cathedral of Santiago de Compostella in Galicia, on the west coast of Spain. 

It was a spur of the moment decision, made in a dark hour. 

Our daily routine keeps us fit and strong. We’ve hiked in South Africa before, so we had no need for new gear or clothes. We were however stuck with a two-week spot in August for which we had booked leave earlier in the year. 

It was tricky timing. Even the Spaniards tend to flee to the coast or the mountains during that country’s extreme August heat. But, if not August, then never. So we moved forward. 

A unique and liberating feature of a Camino trip is the pilgrim’s freedom to tailor every aspect of their journey to their ability, needs and likes.

You really can plan it last-minute or, if half your fun is in the planning, the pilgrim will plot the route, overnight stays, rest days and must-see landmarks in great detail. 

It can be done on a shoestring budget, but you don’t have to. You can start from hundreds of markers right across Europe. If you never reach Santiago de Compostella, that’s okay, too.

Pilgrims hike it all year round, alone or in groups. Some don’t hike it, but cycle. The route mostly remains the same, with alternative sections indicated for cyclists along the way. 

You don’t even have to carry your own bag and, if you have appetite for uncertainty and adventure, don’t need to book accommodation in advance. 

We started in French Basque Country, took the iconic route from Saint-Jean-Pied-de-Port named “the French Way”, aimed for Pamplona and ended our trip in Logroño, in the Rioja district of Spain. 

The French Way followed right through to Santiago de Compostella is about 800km in total.

We hiked 160km over eight days through peaceful French and Spanish countryside on a route that clocked up a 4,000m elevation gain and about 3,000m descent, my Garmin watch measured. (For comparison, Table Mountain’s cable car takes passengers 765m up the mountain to a point of just more than 1,000m above sea level. A hike up Melville-koppies in Johannesburg has a 50m elevation gain.) 

Long before we stepped foot in French Basque Country, our journey began with a fair amount of preparation and careful packing. I've detailed everything we did to prepare, including our packing list and what you need to know before visiting the Pilgrim Office. Read all of that here on Part Two: What to prepare for an eight-day hike on the Camino de Santiago

***

Illustrative map of the Camino Hike (Image: Camino map / Freepik)

Day 1: Saint-Jean-Pied-de-Port to Roncesvalles — 26km, 1,320m elevation, about 400m descent, hiked in six hours 

The scallop shell will guide your choices for the rest of your hike. 

Usually depicted in yellow and blue, you will follow the shells on buildings, against signposts or inlaid at your feet along the Way of Saint James. Sometimes these include or are swapped with pictures of a pilgrim, a staff or a simple yellow arrow.

The different Camino signs showing the way to Spain, August 2023. (Photo: Pauli van Wyk)

The different Camino signs showing the way to Spain, August 2023. (Photo: Pauli van Wyk)

The different Camino signs showing the way. This one was in Paris, France, August 2023. (Photo: Pauli van Wyk)

The different Camino signs showing the way to Spain, August 2023. (Photo: Pauli van Wyk)

The different Camino signs showing the way to Spain, August 2023. (Photo: Pauli van Wyk)

The different Camino signs showing the way to Spain, August 2023. (Photo: Pauli van Wyk)

The different Camino signs showing the way to Spain, August 2023. (Photo: Pauli van Wyk)

Pilgrims discuss their starting time each day with the same devotion Isaac Newton considered the falling apple. 

How fast a hiker are you? Do you enjoy a leisurely stroll with long rests, swims and perhaps a nap during the day, or do you prefer going hard until you arrive at your destination? Are you an early riser, or prefer to catch a morning coffee and croissant when the local opens up at 9am or 10am?

There is space for every one of your quirks. In the end, I think we were guided by the intense heat, but also perhaps by the private position that a purposeful, brisk hike will clear months’ worth of cobwebs. 

To escape the heat in the summer months, many people start hiking when it is still dark. If you do hike in the dark, be sure to use a headlight and keep one eye on your realtime map. 

Unlike most of the South African hiking trails, the Camino is not a dedicated trail used for only that purpose. Pilgrims cross communal and farm land, and hike through cities and villages. The path is fairly well marked, but still requires keen awareness. Some hikers complained of having missed the markers in the dark and hiked the wrong way — one couple I met only realised this 13km into their mistake.

We started hiking at 8.30am. It was cool and incredibly humid, the incline immediate as you walk through the village gates. For the first 3km mint, ferns and blueberries grew next to the narrow tarred road. My watch registered an elevation gain of 350m at around 4km. It was about to get steeper.

The Husband and fellow pilgrims walking uphill. The first 7km is a straight and steep uphill winding through farmland. Thick mist muffles the belled livestock and obscures the view, France. 22 August 2023. (Photo: Pauli van Wyk)

Every blog will tell you about the magnificent views on this section of the hike. This article won’t. The mist enveloped the surrounding farmland. Sometimes we could hear the bells around the necks of grazing livestock nearby. 

At the 7,5km mark, just as I privately considered whether this mountain could get any steeper and if I really was as fit as I boasted, we heard the sound of happy people. Refuge D’Orisson took shape from the mist.

At around 7km Refuge Auberge d'Orisson comes in to view. Some people stay over. We forged on. France, 22 August 2023. (Photo: The Husband)

This auberge is a mountain overnight stay with a bustling restaurant. Many pilgrims hike to this point and call it a day. We ordered coffee, unpacked our lunch and I told The Husband how our intrepid friend Anim van Wyk dragged her laptop along the previous year and for a few hours worked on her MBA thesis at the very same spot. 

We moved forward. After this stop, the steep incline appeared to be more gradual and then mostly eases out at around 13km. Somewhere we lost the clouds and at this point hiked on top of the sunny Pyrénées. 

The last hill hides around 19km, and from there you follow an uncomfortable downhill to Roncesvalles. 

The Husband with belled livestock, above the clouds and mist, on top of the Pyrenees, somewhere between France and Spain, 22 August 2023. (Photo: Pauli van Wyk)

The Husband at a signpost, which doubles up as a shrine, on top of the Pyrenees on the way between St Jean Pied de Port and Roncesvalles, France, 22 August 2023. (Photo: Pauli van Wyk)

Top Tip: 

To travel abroad, I use Nomad, a digital sim card app, with the option to buy data at excellent rates per country or for a group of countries. 

***

Day 2: Roncesvalles to Zubiri — 23km, 410m elevation, about 1,000m descent, hiked in just under five hours

Sections of forest and farmland dotted with small hamlets in between coloured our hike down the mountain. There were holly and ferns and bright orange slugs as long as my palm and as thick as my middle finger. 

Pilgrims congregating for seemingly no good reason around random shrubs became a sign of ripe berries. The trail was less dramatic — and perhaps more peaceful and meditative — than hiking over the Pyrénées. 

The Husband hiking in a forest close to Roncesvalles, on the road to Zubiri, Spain, 23 August 2023. (Photo: Pauli van Wyk)

The Husband hiking between Roncesvalles and Zubiri, Spain., 23 August 2023. (Photo: Pauli van Wyk)

The Camino path winds through many small hamlets. This one is on the way between Roncesvalles and Zubiri, Spain, 23 August 2023. (Photo: Pauli van Wyk)

Signs on the houses showing the way as you walk through small hamlets along the way between Roncesvalles and Zubiri, Spain, 23 August 2023. (Photo: Pauli van Wyk)

Along the way, we stopped for a snack, coffee and shade. Our hike started at 8:30am. Ideally, we should’ve rolled out of bed by 6am to skip most of the heat. In a counter move, we just hiked faster. 

As we settled into the silence, into the rhythm and into our heads, we also reached out. 

Two themes stand out. 

We met a lovely bunch of engaging Americans whom we’d share stories and tips or news with while passing them sporadically on the trail for the next six days. 

The second is the human need to receive and spread intelligence — the same Americans had the unfortunate penchant of loudly listening to sermons or music banging from a speaker that their tour leader carried. If anyone communicated their displeasure, we didn’t witness it — but news of the “selfish assholes” reverberated up and down the trail. 

We walked into Zubiri, hot and bothered and footsore. The Rio Arga, a small shallow river passing by, saved many a pilgrim’s life on that day.

In the meantime, a potential disaster was brewing.

Top Tip:

Take along at least one banana a day, for sudden bouts of extreme hunger or energy slumps. 

***

Day 3: Zubiri to Pamplona — 19km, 355m elevation, about 300m descent, hiked in four hours

It all started with plakkies (flip flops) in Paris. 

The Husband left his favourite city with a prize blister between his toes, triggered by kilometres of exploring in chafing plakkies. 

No biggie, normally.

But hiking the Camino is not a normal endeavour. 

By the end of day two, The Husband had 50km in almost 11 hours under the belt. The blister had burst, was red-rimmed and, ominously, seemed to be the root cause of a feint red line crawling up his foot. 

Fortunately, The Husband is a man of some medical intelligence. He doctored his foot with an antibiotic ointment overnight. The good news was that the crawling red line seemed to have temporarily halted moving upwards. 

He was left with a hobble, though, and needed antibiotic tablets. We had none. That was a mistake. 

The sole pharmacy in Zubiri opened at 10am. Antibiotics are a prescription medicine. To work our way through the unfamiliar Spanish medical system would take more time than we wanted to spend in Zubiri. 

The Husband at a painted house, showing the way between Zubiri and Pamplona, Spain, 4 August 2023. (Photo: Pauli van Wyk)

Pamplona, on the upside, was our next stop. We decided to move forward. 

We made a quick stop for elevenses at La Parada restaurant in the hamlet of Zuriain, and met a British couple who intended to hike the entire 800km route with their three-year-old daughter in tow. Literally. 

The toddler was happily playing with soft toys in her purple hiking trailer which she shared with her dad’s backpack. “Slowly, but surely” was their motto.

Stopping for elvensies at La parada restaurant in Zuriain, Spain, 24 August 2023. (Photo: Pauli van Wyk)

Three fellow Pilgrims at La Parada restaurant in Zuriain, Spain, 24 August 2023. (Photo: Pauli van Wyk)

The trail winded along the Arga River. By 11am we were hot. At 12, the heat was uncomfortable. By 2pm that day, the temperature was positively blistering. 

Weather forecast website Windguru claimed the area reached a high of 41 degrees Celsius that day. There was barely any shade. Wading in the Agra river earlier was a distant memory. It felt like walking in a furnace. 

Fellow pilgrims swimming and resting in the shade next to a stream halfway between Zubiri and Pamplona, Spain, 24 August 2023. (Photo: Pauli van Wyk)

This was my emotional low point on the route. Miserable under a scrappy tree, I ate a banana and worked up the courage to simply reach the next hill.  

About 20 minutes’ hike onwards from my scrappy tree, we reached an unexpected forest. The banana probably also kicked in because suddenly, everything went (more) swimmingly. If ever there was a lesson in not wallowing there where life is difficult, my scrappy tree and the courage to move forward were it.

Walking into Pamplona, even the animated figures on the pedestrian traffic lights wore broad-rimmed hats. 

A cold shower cures most ailments, though. That evening we relaxed at Plaza Castillo, sipping drinks and ploughing through the local food scene, watching the locals perform folk dances to the tunes on their Txistu’s — a three-holed flute and symbol of the Basque folk music revival.

Top Tip:

My hat had no ventilation mesh. That was a mistake. 

***

Day 4: Rest day in Pamplona

A “cold front” moved in on our rest day and the temperature dropped to a pleasant 25 degrees Celsius. 

We made the most of it. The Husband took a tour of the Spanish medical system and I explored the university town known for its Basque flair — the Ciudadela de Pamplona (citadel), the Plaza de Toros (bullring) sporting a bust of Ernest Hemingway, and the wonderful food scene and bars. 

Hemmingway and I at his favourite bar, Cafe Iruna on the Plaza del Castillo in Pamplona, Spain, August 2023. (Photo: Pauli van Wyk)

We clocked up 68km in three days with just more than 2,000m elevation and, worse, about 1,700m descent. Our bodies were creaky, in need of a good stretch and some wine. Pamplona had our backs. 

I found us a local Irish bar and, in a twist of perfect timing, we witnessed the Springboks annihilate the All Blacks in an epic match at Twickenham. 

DM’s sportswriter Craig Ray described the 35-7 win in front of 82,000 people in southwest London as a “brutal emasculation of the All Blacks”. 

The pub was left under no false impression that there were two South Africans among them, and they were winning.

***

Day 5: Pamplona to Puente la Reina — 13,11km, 279m elevation, about 400m descent, hiked in three hours

From the same Camino-telegraph that gossiped about the Americans and their questionable hiking ethics, we had some forewarning about an uphill battle just outside Pamplona. 

The outskirts of Pamplona with its highways and traffic is no fun. 

We cheated a bit with a taxi ride to the first hamlet, Zariquiegui, and started our hike from there. To our intense embarrassment, we had no cash to pay for the coffee and two croissants ordered from a dedicated Camino shop (which, surprisingly, was open at this hour). 

The shop owner took no cards. And spoke no English. It took some fuss to sort this out.

Perhaps because we were elated by the Boks demolishing the enemy, or perhaps because our perception of an “uphill battle” was somewhat influenced by hiking over the Pyrenees, we attacked the route by 7.30am on this morning. 

A sign showing the way on the road between Pamplona and Puente la Reina, Spain, 26 August 2023. (Photo: Pauli van Wyk)

The cool weather persisted. The “struggle” turned out to be an easy although steep set of switchbacks. A reminder that perception is truth. 

Here, the pilgrim arrives at the Alto de Perdón, the Mount of Forgiveness. 

It is difficult to say what grabs the eye first: the iconic sculpture of pilgrims, their dog and four laden steeds, the magnificent 360-degree views or about 40 wind turbines turning silently. 

The scene, installed on the summit in 1996, depicts a group of pilgrims en route.  

The words etched into it reads: “Donde se Cruza el camino del viento con el de las estrellas.” 

“Where the path of the wind crosses with that of the stars.” 

The Husband on the road between Pamplona and Puente la Reina, Spain, 26 August 2023. (Photo: Pauli van Wyk)

The iconic sculpture on top of Alto de Perdón, the Mount of Forgiveness, Spain, 26 August 2023. (Photo: Pauli van Wyk)

Author Jean Mitchell-Lanham’s book The Lore of the Camino de Santiago decodes the symbolism: 

“The sculpture exhibits a small history of pilgrims and the pilgrimage… through various stages of development, from the beginning in the Middle Ages up to the present day, in the form of a procession. Of the twelve pilgrims, the first pilgrim appears to be searching for the route and symbolizes the beginning of interest in the pilgrimage. Next is a group of three that depicts the growth or rise in popularity of the Camino. These three are followed by another group depicted as merchants or tradesmen on horseback that symbolize the medieval era of merchants hawking their wares to the pilgrims. Spaced away from them is a solitary figure that characterizes the decline in pilgrimages due to political, religious, and social unrest from the mid-fourteenth to the mid-twentieth centuries. At the very end of the procession are two modern-day figures depicted to show the renewed interest and rise in popularity of the pilgrimage in the late twentieth century.”

Top Tip:

Have petty cash on hand. Some food trucks and shops have no card facilities.

Explore Puente la Reina and look out for this town’s own “running of the bulls” festival. 

***

Day 6: Puente la Reina to Estella — 23,5km, 552m elevation, about 200m descent, hiked in five hours

A jazz band playing at a music festival on the banks of the Arga river at Puente la Reina. The seven arch bridge in the background, Spain, 26 August 2023. (Photo: Pauli van Wyk)

Puente la Reina is in the Navarre district of Spain. It is named after the bridge that straddles the Rio Arga. Construction of the seven-arch bridge was ordered in the eleventh century by Muniadona, Queen of Pamplona by her marriage with King Sancho III, in an effort to shield the pilgrims from harm. 

It is the confluence of two routes, the Camino Aragonés and the Camino Francés — possibly the reason for its bustling nature. 

I walked through the medieval arch and over the Queen Muniadona bridge with the distinct idea that the economy at Puenta la Reina centres around the pilgrims. 

Much of the day’s walk was on a jeep track through pine forests. 

We walked into the charming village of Cirauqui on the bell of 10am and stopped for elevenses at an entrepreneur’s shop he runs from his garage, serving cakes, nuts, coffee and smoothies. The Navarre district seemed to me to have an odd fascination with 80s and 90s pop music, too. I’ve never heard so much Whigfield, Cher, The Bangles, Letters to Cleo and Irene Cara as in the shops, cafeterias and villas we passed by here.

Top Tip: 

Don’t fret over lost or broken gear. Villages along the route usually offer at least one outdoor shop for just such an occasion. 

Fellow Pilgrims hiking through beautiful hamlets and winelands on the road between Puente la Reina and Estella, 27 August 2023. (Photo: Pauli van Wyk)

Fellow Pilgrims hiking through beautiful hamlets and winelands on the road between Puente la Reina and Estell, 27 August 2023. (Photo: Pauli van Wyk)

The Husband walking over the seven arch bridge at Puente la Reina, heading towards Estella, Spain, 7 August 2023. (Photo: Pauli van Wyk)

***

Day 7: Estella to Los Arcos — 24km, 510m elevation, about 250m descent, hiked in five hours

The scenery between Estella and Los Arcos was, to me, only second to the Pyrénées. We mostly hiked on narrow gravel roads next to small vineyards, through medieval hamlets and calmly beautiful countryside.

A highlight was the Wine Fountain of Irache in Ayegui, about 2km from Estella. The area is known since the 12th century for its wine and the surrounding vineyards belong to the Bodegas Irache winery. The owners every day top up the fountain, draining in the left tap, with 100 litres of red wine so that everyone can enjoy a scallop shell or glass of wine. The right tap offers water.

Fellow Pilgrims hiking through beautiful hamlets and winelands on the road between Puente la Reina and Estella, 7 August 2023. (Photo: Pauli van Wyk)

The winding Pilgrim's way between Estella and Los Arcos, Spain, 28 August 2023. (Photo: Pauli van Wyk)

The Husband and fellow Pilgrims refresh with some wine and water at the Wine Fountain of Irache in Ayegui, just outside Estella, on the way to Los Arcos, Spain, 28 August 2023. (Photo: Pauli van Wyk)

The sign at the Wine Fountain of Irache in Ayegui, just outside Estella, on the way to Los Arcos, Spain, 8 August 2023. (Photo: Pauli van Wyk)

The Spanish sign at the fountain reads: “If you want to arrive in Santiago with strength and vitality, take a sip of this great wine and toast to happiness.” 

The weather took a turn for the better after we left Pamplona and on this day some light rain sifted down over the landscape, creating dramatic clouds. Some pilgrims walked with ponchos. We didn’t have any, and wouldn’t have used it if we did. We fitted our backpacks’ rain covers, though, and my hat kept the rain out of my eyes — that was all I needed. 

As we hiked into the one-horse town of Los Carlos, we caught up with a pilgrim fitted with a handmade flag of the Czech Republic and a scallop shell on his backpack. 

In big black capital letters on the flag, he wrote: “Feel free to speak with me”.

Top Tip:

You will never be sorry about carrying a backpack rain cover. 

If you need anything, don’t wait until Los Arcos to buy it. You’ll probably not find what you need here.

***

Day 8: Los Arcos to Logroño — 30km, 561m elevation, about 350m descent, hiked in five hours 45 minutes

“There is just something about the rhythmic, forward motion of hiking”, everyone I met on the Camino trail agreed. 

At one of the many shrines next to the path of our last day, I lighted a beeswax candle my plastic-hating friend Anim van Wyk sent me. 

I lingered a bit over the shards of life left by my fellow pilgrims.

The Husband reads signs and mementoes attached to a shrine on the road between Los Arcos and Logroño, Spain, 29 August 2023. (Photo: Pauli van Wyk)

Ribbons, road maps, flags, Covid masks, bangles, letters and photos. Tied to a tree, to a heap of rocks. 

The moment was holy: I was a witness of loss and intense emotional distress, the birth of new ideas and obsolete careers reimagined. 

We chose to move forward. 

Me hiking on the road between Los Arcos and Logrońo, Spain, 29 August 2023. (Photo: The Husband)

The road between Los Arcos and Logrońo, Spain, 29 August 2023. (Photo: The Husband)

Me hiking on the road between Los Arcos and Logrońo, Spain, 29 August 2023. (Photo: The Husband)

At 11.08am, as if by order and right in time for elevenses, an oasis opened up between the trees in the hills of Viana. 

Next to happy red chairs and steel tables stands a rickety, graffitied shack dubbed “Bar Casita Lucia”. 

The most welcome sight. Red chairs and tables signal Pepe the entrepreneur's roadside Bar Casita Lucia, Spain. 29 August 2023. (Photo: Pauli van Wyk)

The most welcome sight. Pepe the entrepreneur's roadside Bar Casita Lucia, Spain, 29 August 2023. (Photo: Pauli van Wyk)

The owner said his name was Pepe. He was connected to a lightweight oxygen pump with plastic pipes running behind his ears to his nose. He spent his life in Catalonia and once, many years ago, himself hiked the Camino. It was life-changing. 

He returned to Catalonia once: To pack some scraps and sell the rest. He wanted to come “live on the Camino”. 

Pepe sold pastries, boiled eggs, fruit, soft drinks, water and joy. He wore tortoiseshell-rimmed glasses and played tunes like Edelweiss, made famous in the musical Sound of Music, and from Tchaikovsky’s Swan Lake. 

Among the graffiti on his bar was a sticker that read “Keep smiling”. 

Walking into Logroño, Spain, 29 August 2023. (Photo: Pauli van Wyk)

Me hiking past fellow pilgrims resting on the road between Los Arcos and Logrońo, Spain, 29 August 2023. (Photo: The Husband)

The Husband hiking into a hamlet on the outskirts of Logroño, Spain, 29 August 2023. (Photo: Pauli van Wyk)

Just after 4pm, we walked into Logroño, a wonderful town in the Rioja district of Spain. It is known as a foodie centre of the region, but is also the type of town that can sustain a hat shop, designer lights and one of the best confectioneries I’ve ever visited. 

Restaurateurs here put a premium on foie fresco and Rioja wine.

Top Tip: 

We stayed for one night before catching a bus back to Pamplona and Saint-Jean-Pied-de-Port the next morning. I wish we’d stayed for two. DM