Spain Snapshots: Playa de las Catedrales, Galicia

After my disappointing jaunt to the ‘Most Beautiful Village in Spain,’ I had even higher expectations for the ‘Most Beautiful Beach in Spain,’ Playa As Catedrais. Arriving to Ribadeo, the first town in Galicia along the Camino de Santiago del Norte, we were exhausted and our muscles needed relaxing – we raced to the pilgrim’s inn on the quay for a bed in the small, cramped place.

Crossing Puente dos Santos, a 600m-long bridge over the Eo River (lo juro), we got a first glimpse of Galicia from the road. The town spilled down a gentle slope towards the Ría and out to the sea, and the pilgrim’s inn was located right on its banks, next to a private beach.

After a splurge on lunch at La Botellería, Iván woke me up from a deep sleep, and we caught a cab with Sandrine and Mikel towards the beach. Iván had called the local government to see when the tide would roll out, allowing us to walk along a pristine beach that spends half the day covered in water.

Walking down a set of aluminum stairs, the flat, horizontal beach stretches out before you. The waters were calm, so we waded out into the surf to rest our aching feet for a while. Being on the Cantabric Sea, the water was freeeeeeezing, but it’s honestly the best thing for your feet after 130km.

Las Catedrales, or As Catedrais in local tongue, is actually called Praia de Aguas Santas, but the soaring rock formations and arches appear to be flying buttresses. When the low tide is in, shallow pools form under the rocks and you can see mussels and goose barnacles growing along the crags. The whimsical rocks have been carved by years of erosion from the wind and salt water, and half of the beach gets covered up in high tide as proof!

If you go: The beach is a 13€ cab ride from Ribadeo’s town center and the albergue. Be sure to check when low tide occurs, as this is when you can see the rock formations from below. There are lifeguards, a full-service restaurant and a souvenir shops located at As Catedrais.

What’s your favorite beach in Spain? Beach season may be over, but visiting in winter means fewer crowds and cheaper food!

Roots&Boots: Santiago de Compostela’s Pilgrim Hostel

The elation of arriving to Santiago de Compostela after 200 miles and 14 nights alternating between pilgrims inns and pensiones was only met with the elation that we’d have a place to rest our heads. We took rounds of photos in the Plaza del Obradoiro, packs over our heads, sunbursts creeping in our shots.

Located just 350 meters (and downhill!) from the magnificent square, Roots&Boots hostel was to become the roof over our heads that night. A cross between a pilgrim’s inn and a hostel, the owners converted a gorgeous four-story casa señorial, or a state house, into a hostel complete with intricate woodwork, creaky floors and a huge outdoor terrace with bean bag chairs.

Admittedly, Hayley and I spent very little time in Roots&Boots because we had a beautiful, compact city to enjoy and a dozen other pilgrims to meet for a goodbye beer.

What I liked

The common areas and bar – For me, a hostel must have comfortable common areas with wi-fi. Since Roots&Boots is in a huge house, the yard is equally as large, with couches, tables and plenty of grass to read or check your email. They’ve also got a bar that serves breakfast for 2€, beers for 1,50€ and enormous bocadillos for 2,50€. The staff even let us use the space after we’d checked out, and we had lockers to store our bags until our late flight out. Roots&Boots also has a huge kitchen with a parrilla in the garden with enough room for many guests to eat comfortably.

The location – Roots&Boots is located adjacent to the beautiful Alameda park and has priviledged views of the cathedral through the alleyways. If you want to be close to the pulse of the city and all of its sites without dealing with the tourists, the hostel can’t be beat, and the prices are on-par with any hostel in the area.

The staff – The three people we came across at the front desk were beyond friendly – they gave us our room early, let us shower the following day after we’d checked out and even gave us leftover shampoo to use.

What didn’t work for me

The hygiene sheets: Alright, I get that the hygiene sheets are the best for combating against bed bugs and smelly pilgrims, but come on! For 15€ or 17€, I think I deserve a clean set of cloth sheets and to have someone put them on the bed for me. What’s more, there were rooms upstairs with real sheets, so what gives?

The lack of bathrooms: When we got to the hostel around 11:30a.m., our room was ready, but I had one order of business: use the facilities. Unfortunately, there was a severe lack of aseos in this hostel. We had to wait to shower, wait to pee, wait to brush our teeth, wait to change. In a hostel that has four floors and four dozen beds, four bathrooms doesn’t cut it.

The specifics

Like any hostel, Roots&Boots offers free wi-fi, lockers, city maps and a fun mix of travelers. There’s also a few computers to use with printers on the second floor. Rates vary by season and type of room, which are bunks of 4, 6, 8 or 10 beds. Expect to pay up to 17,90€ per person per night in the high season for a bed in a shared room.

I used the site Your Spain Hostel to look for and book a room, an excellent resource that focuses on all types of lodging in Spain, from hostels to paradores. Its easy-to-use interface makes searching for a room or bed beyond simple, and the site offers discounts on for groups, as well as vouchers for saving on tours, breakfasts and rentals.

You can find Roots&Boots at Rúa Campo do Cruceiro do Gaio 7, near the Alameda park. Call them at  699 63 15 94 or shoot an email to  info@rootsandboots.es.

My stay was provided by Your Spain Hostel after my long walk on the Camino. But don’t worry – my post is as real as the sore muscles after 200 miles.

Meredith’s Camino: Clarity and Accpetance on the Way

I’m touched that several of you have reached out about my journey on the Camino de Santiago to honor my late friend Kelsey and raise money for the University of Iowa Dance Marathon. By far one of the biggest draws of walking the Way is the time it gives you to think and to work out issues, and Meredith Spivey’s month on the Camino Francés two years ago was all about accepting and moving forward. Want to share your story? Email me!

Two years ago today I wrote this in my diary:

This morning I woke up at 5:30 and stretched a while. My right knee is killing me and my calves are obviously not strong like they used to be. I got operated on this morning by a friend to treat my ampolla – apparently the key to prevent them is just cover your feet in vaseline.

I am now sitting on a curb in Pamplona trying to see if a pharmacy will open, but moreso thinking I just can’t go on today. Maybe if I had different shoes or different feet…

This was a rocky point in my life. I had graduated from college during the highest point of US unemployment, had a terrible break-up, saw most of my steady college life crumble in front of my eyes… In short, the only thing that could turn me around was moving somewhere and getting a job. Starting up as we good Americans are taught. So luckily the program that originally told me “don’t hold your breath!” wrote back and said to move to sunny Murcia, part of Spain’s sunny Mediterranean coast.

I moved there and fell in love with Spain again. I had studied previously in the students’ haven of Sevilla and got back into the slow pace of life. I could go for coffee, spending every day with my friends having thoughtful conversations or gossiping because we were relaxed (and everything else is closed till 5 in Murcia anyway).

But then I had decided to get a change of pace and I moved to the big city. Madrid! I had been before with my mom on vacation and at that point had decided that it was just “OK.” But I packed my bags and moved to Spain’s buzzing and sprawling capital.

And it was terrible!

My job and workmates were wonderful, but different. Otherwise, the city was immense, packed with tourists, three times more pricey than my previous southern Spanish locales had been, and lonely. I spent the first year in Madrid literally running to catch the metro, bussing between work and nannying and tutoring, trying to find a decent supermarket, escaping each weekend to the mountains or back to Murcia to get out of the busy hum I had become such a foreigner to by living in my college town and then in Murcia. One of my friends who had continued on at the coast commented that my Spanish was worsening since I was surrounding myself with American friends and I thought it couldn’t get much worse.

When the end of the year came I decided to finally do the Camino de Santiago. I had spent years at university trying to plan out a perfect time to go, with different friends or via different routes, but it was now. I had to go. I had to go alone.

I started out fine. Shucks, I started out amazingly fine – my Spanish pilgrim friends said later, estabas corriendo, and it was true. I had been running, trying to do everything new and differently at once. And I ran up the Pyrenees the first day from France down into Spain on a steep decline. And bummed my knee and hurt my pride in the process.

When I wrote about needing new feet while sitting on the curb in Pamplona, I wasn’t kidding. I was in so much pain. I called my mom crying that old German couples were buzzing by me – how was I in such terrible shape?! I felt like I couldn’t continue – the Camino or maybe another restless year in Madrid. But later that day, a friend I had met along the Way two days prior was having a slow day, too. She convinced and inspired me to walk up and down a big mountain that day in sweltering heat, but we made it to our destination. And I finally decided to listen to myself.

I sat it out. I could not walk for a few days. All my years of dance training told me that I needed to listen to my own body and when I finally did, I could walk within the next 5 days. Eventually, with a new pair of shoes, I walked every step with my pack and without excuses from León the 400km to the end of the world: Finisterre.

I listened to a lot of people share their wisdom and advice along the Camino, including one Spanish pilgrim who promised me that Madrid wasn’t so bad and that I could have a really wonderful time there. I conceptualized what I needed from living in Madrid and how I should change my life and add my own little yellow arrows along the way. I knew the best advice would come from my own mind if I just stopped long enough to think it through. Luckily the Camino leaves a lot of time for thought!

On my birthday I arrived to Santiago and later that month I figured everything out. I registered for Spanish class at one of the Official Language Schools, found an amazing apartment with a great flatmate, made new friends and continued to visit my pilgrim friends I had made, I worked more normal hours and picked up new classes that really made me enjoy planning the lessons, I didn’t try to escape every weekend and instead, kept up with my friends and chose to visit them instead of fled to them. In fact, I didn’t even leave Spain that entire year other than a trip home for Christmas with my family. I finally got it. And I was so, so happy.

I still keep up with my pilgrim friends and the one who got me on my feet that toughest day is going to have a baby come December. And my Spanish friend that promised me Madrid would improve was there in the pouring rain to take me to dinner when I arrived back to Madrid this April. The Beatles were always right when they said that we get by with a little help from our friends. And I am so glad for that, and being able to change a few things (sometimes as simple as your shoes!) to get back on the right foot and find your way; your own camino.

Meredith Spivey has spent nearly fourteen seasons in Spain and will be returning soon to her beloved Madrid to begin another year of teaching English. She is a self-proclaimed “happy wanderer” and this past year spent some months in Italy eating pasta, sailing, and talking like the Pope (they both speak Italian with a Spanish accent!). Meredith prides herself on her prize-winning apple pie recipe!

Seville Snapshots: Waymarkers on the Camino de Santiago

My flashlight bounces off the ground, searching fanatically for a spray painted yellow arrow on anything – a rock, a tree trunk, an abadoned church. It isn’t even 6am yet, and the rain drives down steadily as we pad silently down the N-634 towards Miraz, where we’d spend the night.

Hayley spots the road marker up ahead, just off the highway. The stone obelisk is worn, and the plaque the kilometers to Santiago, long stolen. The mythic 100-kilometers-to-Santiago mark (the minimum distance to get the Compostela) is barely visible between the rain drops and the darkness, but it takes us off the highway and into a dense ecualyptus forrest.

These road markers – but way of yellow arrow, blue and yellow tiles adorned with a scallop shell or even sticks stuck together whenever the former lacked – lead us all the way from Avilés to Santiago de Compostela, 326 kilometers along the Northern coast of Spain. Sometimes we’d had to use our gut, keeping the ocean always on our right, and the relief of coming upon the next one flooded our consciousness more than once a day. The ancient pilgrims used stars, but we got to use the fabled way markers to make our way to the Obradoiro.

Between Asturias and Galicia, the two autonomous communities we passed through, the road markers changed. In Asturias, where we found the markers to be further and further apart, the ridges of the seashells converged at a point, and this was the way to turn. In Galicia, the opposite was true, and the kilometers were marked near the bottom of the base. This was both motivating and discouraging.

Within cities, the waymarkers sometimes became gold-plated shells on buildings and the sidewalk, or even stickers, such as in the town of Figueras. Still, we only got lost twice, arriving to Santiago on August 11th with enough time to pose in front of the monstrous cathedral, bask in the late morning sunlight and get to pilgrims mass to really rid ourselves of sin (it lasted about five minutes, after which we needed a glass of wine).

Does the Camino de Santiago pass thru your city or town? What are the waymarkers like? To see more pictures, direct yourself to my flickr page.

Eating Coruña: The City’s Best Restaurants

Galician food makes my heart flutter – the piping hot pimientos del padrón, raxo smothered in roquefort sauce, fresh-caught shellfish displayed  in every window of every bar on every street.

There are two reasons I spend my summers in Coruña, crossing my fingers that there will be little rain: one is because it’s way cooler, and the other because the food is incredible.

Even though I spend the majority of time eating in the camp cafeteria, the other teachers and I get the chance to actually go out and get some good food in our bellies. Before I tell you where, you need a primer in typical coruñés fare:

polbo a la feira – boiled octopus served over boiled potatoes with olive oil and paprika

navajas – razor clams that are pan seared and often served with lemon

pimientos del padrón – flash-fried green peppers. As the saying goes, some are spicy, others are not

empanada gallega – a pasty, most often stuffed with tuna or ground beef with peppers and onions

percebes – goose barnacles. I didn’t like them on my first run and now love them!

raxo – marinated pork loin, typically served with potatoes

zorza – spicy ground pork, treated with paprika and marinated in other spices

queso tetilla con membrillo – creamy ‘tit cheese’ served with a quince paste for dessert.

La Bombilla

Javi picked us up from the airport high above Coruña’s city center and promised us a surprise. We elbowed our way up to the counter, toasted to new friendships and chose tapas of off the short menu – tortilla, milanesa and croquetas the size of a baseball. La Bombilla, with its turn-of-the-century-esque bar and cheap thrills (aka tapas for just a euro apiece), is a staple in Coruña and one of my favorites. Locals sidle up to the bar at seemingly all hours of the day, so be sure to arrive early for lunch or dinner, or you’ll be forced to grab a plastic plate and find a place to sit on the ground outside. Calle de la Galera, 7

update: I read the sad news that La Bomilla will be closing on December 30th. Rumor is that it will re-open, but likely without the same encanto. Really bummed I didn’t get one last giant croqueta.

O Renchucho de Mayte

Far and away my favorite in Coruña, this little corner bar is always packed for its cheap, home-cooked food and exceptional service. You can’t miss the raxo con roque or the crispy calamares, and the bar now features takeout, too. I am a sucker for their croquetas and cheese, and the tapas are generous and inexpensive. The bar is closed Sundays. Portico Andrés, s/n

The cafeteria at the Yacht Club with no name

Oftentimes, a menú del día, the Spanish equivalent of a three-course meal, is too much for me to eat. But everytime I’m in Coruña, I’ll skip breakfast in favor of the views of the port and across the bay to Santa Cristina beach from the yacht club. While the food is often billed as generic (think caldo gallego or a mixed salad for firsts), it’s served fresh and in heaping portions. What really makes the meal is the atmosphere, with the sea breeze ruffling your napkin and the sun peeking around the enormous glass building. Located in the Club Náutico on Avda. del Puerto.

Parillada Alcume

After all those rounds of pulpo and empanada, I need meat. When it comes down to it, I am a corn- and beef-fed Midwesterner, so I can’t pass up on a parrillada, or a restaurant where meats are grilled over open coals. I’d passed Alcume loads of times, as it’s just off the shopping district, but it wasn’t until a camp vegetarian suggested its mixed plate of meaty good that we decided to try it.

You know it’s good when even the veggie-lover wants to go. We often have to wait to sit down, particularly at the wooden tables outside, but filling ourselves to the brim with sausages and flank steaks makes it worth it. And it’s a lot easier to identify the parts than it is in the camp cafeteria. Calle Galera, 44-46

Pan de Lino

I heard a rumor that there were bagels in Coruña. I gasped, horrified that there would be a place that sells my favorite breakfast food in a small port city before my beloved Seville.

As it turns out, this was merely a rumor (though I did have a bagel sandwich in Cafetería Vecchio, near the Casino), but Pan de Lino’s inviting bakery counter, beautifully mismatched furniture and organic menu is a nice change from the old man bars I usually frequent. The service is terrible, but as long as you’re accompanied with friends and something delicious, you can let it go. Calle Rosalia de Castro, 7

O Mesón Galego

The cream of Galicia’s crop is, without a doubt, its shellfish. As has become tradition, we take our camp cash to the nearest marisquería for a mariscada, or a seafood smorgasboard. I’m sure there are places that are much better (and thus more expensive!), but we group into three and split a 46€ heap of shellfish with a bottle of crisp albariño wine. The kitchen is open, and you can watch the robust cook hack away at crab legs like it ain’t no thang. I’ve also had their pimientos and empanada and approve. Calle de la Franja, 56.

Asiayu Japanese Restaurant

I thankfully have a few friends in Coruña who are always quick to point out new finds and tear me away from Mayte and Bombilla. When Julie and Forrest discovered an all-you-can-eat sushi buffet next to the beach, half of the teaching staff went down to pig out on something other than carbs. The dinner menuú runs 13,95 plus a drink, and you can choose two hot plates in addition to everything that comes around the belt. The sushi was hand rolled right in front of us, but I was too busy pouting about sitting at the end of the loop and not being able to grab the fried sushi or the dumplings before the greedy hands of the other Ts got them (though this did distract them from my terrible chopstick skills). Calle Buenos Aires, 7 Bajo

There are loads of other places I’ve tried – a hidden Mexican joint with great margaritas, an Indian place with an affordable menú, nondescript holes-in-the-wall whose names I’ve long forgotten. Then there are the places I’d love to try, like Spoom’s creative cuisine. But, somehow, the appeal of one euro tapas, a sushi conveyer belt and the tried and true always win out. But really, I’ll go anywhere I see an upturned octopus in the window.

Have you ever been to La Coruña and have any places to recommend? 

Camino de Santiago Round-Up: Best Advice and Resources

If you’re reading this on August 11th, chances are that I’m basking in the sun that’s peeking in and out of the clouds in Santiago. I’m likely hot, caked with dirt and nursing blisters on my sore feet. I’ve handed out t-shirts and ribbons, broken down in tears more than a few times and met pilgrims from all around the world.

And, knowing me, I’m probably kicking back a saucer of Albariño en O Gato Negro, a hidden gem in the Santiago dining scene.

As I write from my camp bedroom in La Coruña, less than 100km from Plaza de Obradoiro and the end of my journey, I already feel a bit different from this whole undertaking. The Camino isn’t just about me and my pack, Santi – it’s about my other caminante and dear friend, Hayley. It’s about the other peregrinos I will meet and share stories and snacks with. It’s about the blisters and the sore knees and the aches and pains and beating my body will no doubt take. It’s, of course, about Kelsey and her family, too. I know I’ll be thinking of her with every step, over every mountain. The Camino is my physical tribute to her fight against leukemia and sarcoma, and a sort of spiritual cleansing that I hope to have to get me through the grieving process that still hits me at times.

It’s about the people who have shared in all of this with me, and I feel as though I’ll carry so many of you, too. Your well wishes, donation dollars to Dance Marathon and your advice have taken me far enough. I’ve always been someone to see through any challenge I undertake, and I go after what I want. The Camino has been something in the back of my head for ages, and I’m happy I’ve waited for nearly 28 years to be emotionally fit and at a point in my life where I’m ready to step ahead and see what’s waiting for me.

The Camino seems to be all about people coming together and sharing, and this is part of what attracted me to it in the first place. During the few months we’ve spent dreaming and planning, Hayley and I have used a number of different websites and resources to make this journey happen. I’ve rounded them all up for you here (this list is definitely not exhaustive, but I used them and found them useful):

General Information and History.

The Camino de Santiago has existed for generation, for centuries, and its as steeped in history as it is tradition. For a general overview to the trail, check out the following sites.

Tom Bartel shares his advice for packing, first aid and enjoying on The Way: http://travelpast50.com/category/camino/

Santiago de Compostela’s Town Hall provides background information and history: http://www.santiagoturismo.com/camino-de-santiago

Trish Clark’s Camino guide is a great companion while on the Francés: http://guidetothecamino.com

While this site, Girls on the Way, is not just about the Camino, it’s got loads of great information on long-term hikes: http://www.girlsontheway.com

Packing Tips.

Before even hitting the road, Hayley and I made multiple trips to Decathlon, we broke in boots and bags while consuming ebooks on packing. They say the pack should weigh about 10% of your body weight, so we were working on packing a lot into just a little. These sites helped me pack my own bag.

Eroski’s guide: http://caminodesantiago.consumer.es/llevatela-al-camino/

Candace Rardon’s guide on Matador Travel: http://matadornetwork.com/goods/how-to-pack-for-the-camino-de-santiago-pilgrimage-trail/

Erin Ridley’s guide on La Tortuga Viajera (fun fact, she met Candace on the hike!): http://www.latortugaviajera.com/2012/05/camino-packing-list/

I also used an e-book called ‘To Walk Far, Carry Less

You can check out my own list here. How did I do, you ask? I ended up not using the sleeping pad, tossing out the walking sticks (I should have had two, especially for the steep climbs on the first few stages) and didn’t need to bring so many T-shirts. I also found that doing the washing with a stick of laundry soap, rather than gel or powder, was more effective in rubbing out the grime, dirt and stink from my walking clothes.

Planning.

The Camino fits my Type A personality with the planning, and Hayley’s borderline Type B with its ‘go with the flow’ sort of obstacles. But still, getting to and from the Camino, choosing the right route for your physical capabilities and preferences and even where to stay needs to be taken into consideration. Forums were particularly helpful, especially those related to the Camino del Norte, which is not as popular as the Francés.

Official Camino forum: http://www.caminodesantiago.me/board/?sid=9a633b9c5cb0f40609a9e2e2520b091e

Another great forum: http://www.caminoforums.com

A great breakdown to miles traveled and costs incurred (including blister count!) http://traveledearth.com/category/journeys/camino-de-santiago-journeys/

I also used the corresponding pages of the Ciccerone guide to the Camino del Norte, updated in summer 2012, courtesy of Books4Spain. Apart from this book, which I found to be mostly correct, save a few changes for construction in Asturias, I also used the Eroski guide to the stages in Spanish, which also had great information about the allergies along the stages and reviews from other pilgrims.

Pilgrim Credentials.

While traveling on the Camino, pilgrims carry a sort of passport that is a collection of stamps from monasteries, albergues and other historic sites (we have loads from bars and restaurants, too!). Once in Santiago, they can go to the pilgrim’s office to receive the Compostela, the official document stating that the pilgrim has walked at least 100km or biked at least 200. You can email Peterborough Pilgrims, a Christian Order located in the UK, at pilgrimpeterbros@gmail.com. They sent both Hayley and I our (street) creds by mail, free of charge, within a few months, so plan ahead. You can also get the along the Camino at parish churches, but not at albergues.

When actually getting the compostela at the Pilgrim’s Office (Rúa do Vilar, 1, adjacent the cathedral), you’ll be asked to present your credentials and write some basic information about nationality, age and starting point on a log. If you’ve done the walk for spiritual or religious purposes, you’ll be given a fancy certificate, written in Latin, stating you’ve received plenary indlugence and are absolved of your sins. If not, you’ll still recieve a certificate of completion.

Since I did the walk in memory of a friend who had passed, I was able to also add her name to my certificate, known as ‘Viccario por.’ There are volunteers in the office from all over the world, so you shouldn’t have a problem communicating your correct information. To keep your compostela from wear and tear, the post office or tourist shops sell cardboard tubes for cheap. (Many thanks to another pilgrim I met along the way, Fernando Puga, for this information. You can visit his Camino blog here).

Story Telling on the Walk.

The Camino is littered with stories, with reasons for walking, with pilgrims looking for something, whether spiritual or emotional. Part of my fascination with the big walk has been because of the incredible tales I’ve heard that have come from a few days or weeks of just walking. No doubt, we will have shared meals and swapped anecdotes with people from around the world.

The Camino is extremely spiritual, and Aviva Elyn and Gary White explore the spiritual temples along The Way: http://powerfulplaces.wordpress.com

One of the best (and there are few) resources on the Camino del Norte: http://www.caminowalkaboutnorte.blogspot.co.uk

Cole Burmeister walked just four days of the Camino from St. Jean Pied-de-Port, but he captured lovely images: http://www.fourjandals.com/europe/walking-the-camino-de-santiago-photos/

Randall St. Germain’s intimate details of his trip, including information on getting to Fisterra: http://www.caminomyway.com

I’ve always loved Sherry Ott’s perspective when writing, and her notes on the Camino are fantastic: http://www.ottsworld.com/blogs/best-time-to-walk-camino-de-santiago/

Books to read before, during or after.

I’ve long read pilgrim stories, touched by the way that the road can profoundly change a person. Here’s a selection of what I’ve read, and what’s on my Kindle for the trek (Waah, I can’t travel without it!):

Kevin Codd, ‘Field of Stars

Guy Thatcher, ‘A Journey of Days

Paulo Coehlo, ‘The Pilgrimage

Robert C. Sibley, ‘The Way of the Stars: Journeys on the Camino de Santiago

Shirley McClaine, ‘The Camino: A Journey of the Spirit‘ – finished this while on the Camino and, dios, it’s out there!

Joan Fallon, ‘Santiago Tales

Have any other great resources to share? Planning on doing the Camino de Santiago some time during your life? I’m writing this ahead of time, but I already think I’ll be back for more. You can view all of my photos on my Camino Flickr Set, get inspiration from pinterest or check out my twitter log while I’m away.

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