The relationships I’ve built through the Camino de Santiago are some of my most treasured. Whether we’ve met along The Way, through Hospitalero work, or in local and online Camino groups, each person I’ve connected with on this journey has brought something special to my life. I’ve also heard great tales of Camino romances, but that hasn’t been my destiny unless you count bed bugs, because no creature loves me more than they do.
The Francés was my first Camino back in 2017. The thought of walking 800 km was intimidating. But aside from that mental hurdle, I couldn’t have asked for a more perfect experience. The sun shone every day, I made tons of friends, and I fell in love with a new country. Even the bed bugs are a funny memory.
But my Primitivo was a different story.
During Semana Santa in 2023, I spent a few days in Oviedo. Although I went for the Easter festivities, I knew I wanted to take a day to walk the first stage of the Primitivo, from Oviedo to Grado.
On the day I walked, the sun was shining and the air was crisp. Perfect walking weather. There was a lot of city walking leaving Oviedo. But with a lush mountain backdrop, it was a far cry from the industrial outskirts of other Camino towns.
It wasn’t long before the Camino led me into the mountains. I passed through quaint hamlets, peeked into tiny churches, and visited with the animals.
As it was March, the Primitivo was quiet. I only encountered about eight other pilgrims and a few locals. But it was a nice opportunity to revel in the silence of my stunning surroundings. Something about this first stage touched my soul.
If not for that day, the Primitivo may not have been high on my Camino list just yet. But I couldn’t get the beauty of that first stage out of my mind. So, in September 2024, I returned to Spain to complete it.
I began where I left off in Grado, and the first few days were incredible. It was warm and sunny. The scenery took my breath away. I met wonderful people. And since my Spanish was better, I could engage with the locals and help my fellow pilgrims with the language. The terrain was tough. If I wasn’t walking uphill, I was walking down. But I couldn’t have been happier.
At the end of Day 3, I arrived in Colinas de Arriba, excited for the next day on the Hospitales route. I had been watching the forecasts and all looked well. But as is typical for Asturias, the weather can change instantly. And it did. The night before we were to walk, the angry skies opened.
We set out in the rain and fog. And this would continue for much of the day, with only the odd break. The day was still beautiful, don’t get me wrong. I loved all the animals and the breathtaking expanse over the mountains. But I was disappointed.
That day taught me, like no other on the Camino, about the strength of pilgrim relationships. Aside from the constant uphills and bad weather, we also knew this 25 km stage would be without food or water. We never wandered too far from each other and always looked back to keep tabs on everyone. It was a difficult one physically, but my heart was full.
Over the next few days, the rain would continue. My itchy arm would turn out to not have been bitten by mosquitoes, but by bed bugs. And I came down with a cold and a knee injury. I also realized I left my backpack cover in Berducedo. And I lost my pen, a tube of toothpaste and a special yellow arrow that hung on my pack.
I was feeling broken by the time I got to O Cadavo. Even though I’m from Vancouver, I was tired of being waterlogged. I wasn’t feeling well, and couldn’t believe I encountered bed bugs, yet again. I didn’t cry one day on the Francés, but crying became a part of my daily routine on the Primitivo.
My day from O Cadavo to Lugo would be the worst. Because of time constraints, I couldn’t break up the 30 km day, so I took it slowly. I set off under heavy gray skies, sniffling, sneezing, and hobbling along. But I was grateful that it remained dry. I reached the outskirts of Lugo in a lot of pain, but knew I’d be at my hotel in about an hour. I could do this.
But St. James wasn’t done with me yet. As I crossed the highway into town, I felt a drop. And then the deluge began. I stomped and cursed and finally arrived in the city. I pulled out Google Maps to find my hotel and was taken in all sorts of wrong directions. I spent another hour in the pouring rain trying to find my hotel.
And, yes, I cried.
As I spoke with my parents that night, I said that if I saw a drop of rain in the forecast, I would take the train back to Madrid the next day. The thought of quitting a Camino would never have crossed my mind, but I didn’t have any more in me. My mum reassured me that I’d already finished the hardest part, and to take my rest day to decide.
Thankfully, the rain held off, so I continued. Lugo was a joy. And I loved meeting back up with the Francés. These were some of the best days of my Camino. But the rains would return on my last day of walking and during my stay in Santiago de Compostela. I wasn’t thrilled about that, but standing at the cathedral felt like a miracle.
Most of us can say that our Caminos have changed our lives. We’ve seen incredible places, made amazing friendships, and some have even found love with other wonderful humans. But without a doubt, the Camino strengthens the relationship with ourselves. And that’s the most important one.
My Francés gave me confidence and helped me overcome my fear of risk-taking. Without it, I certainly wouldn’t be where I am today.
But my Primitivo shone a light on the darker aspects of myself that still need a lot of work. It taught me acceptance and dealing with disappointments. I learned that even in the depths of my misery, there is still beauty and blessings all around. It showed me what I was physically capable of. And that even if I think of giving up, I can still be proud of my accomplishments. Life doesn’t have to be perfect. Nor do our Caminos.
What my challenging Primitivo experience taught me most is to be kinder and more respectful to myself. Although we always talk about how great the Camino is, it’s hard. And like life, sometimes we get a lot thrown our way at the same time. But continuing, step-by-step, and making it to that cathedral is something to be proud of.
If I haven’t scared you off and you still want to walk the Primitivo (which you should – it’s amazing in the sun), I’ve written a more detailed account of my journey that you can check out here.
Buen Camino!