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2025Norte/Lebaniego/Vadiniense
  • Chad Estes
Jun – Jul 2025

2025Norte/Lebaniego/Vadiniense

Bonnie and I will walk the first two weeks of the Camino del Norte and then use the Lebaniego and Vadiniense Caminos to connect us to the Frances Camino near Leon. This includes a day in Spain's Picos National Park. Baca selengkapnya
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  • Awal trip
    17 Juni 2025
  • Chad Estes2025Norte/Lebaniego/VadiniensePelancong

    Travel day to San Sebastian

    17–18 Jun, Spanyol ⋅ ☀️ 79 °F

    Today, I am starting my fourth summer walking a pilgrimage to Santiago de Compostela in the northwest corner of Spain. By the end of July, I will have walked over 2,000 miles on the Iberian Peninsula. I never really considered myself a walker before my first Camino, and now I can't imagine life off my feet.

    Each of these caminos has served a different purpose for me. The first, from Lisbon with Jamie, Bonnie, and Kona, revealed that I can hide behind my caregiving and that I needed to create space to take care of myself. That led to my second Camino, a solo journey across the Frances route, which exposed that while I live a life of compassion, I did not know how to show it to myself. This put me on the road to more self-care and healing. Last summer, I walked two Camino routes: the Portuguese coastal, which gave me the space to grieve Alex’s passing and celebrate his life through food and travel—both of which he loved. Then, Bonnie joined me on the exquisite Primitivo route, where we learned how to keep moving forward and upward through all conditions.

    Our present Camino will be in three stages on four different routes. Bonnie is with me again, and we are starting in Irun, Spain, on the border with France in the heart of the Basque region. We are excited to experience this culture, which is represented in our hometown of Boise with a significant Basque heritage, and now we get to see its origin. Next, we will detour over the Picos mountains on the Lebaniego and Vadiniense Camino routes that not very many pilgrims experience. Finally, we will walk the last two weeks of the Frances route with our friend Christie. On this leg, we will map out a directed breast cancer experience that we will lead next year from Leon to Santiago.

    Traveling, especially by walking, expands our world by engaging our senses in new experiences. This isn’t simply a vacation; it is an intentional pilgrimage that engages body, mind, and spirit. It changes the way we live moving forward. Each one has been a new chapter for me.

    Again this year, I wrestled with bringing a camera, and for the third time, simplicity won out. All I have is my phone for photos, but I am thankful that it does a pretty decent job. I made two books from my photos last year and was amazed at how they turned out. I did bring an upgraded keyboard and screen, as I intend to process my photos and reflect through journaling at the end of each day. Even now, as I type this while flying towards Spain, I think it is worth the extra weight.

    I titled this first entry, “What is on my Backpack.” Besides the zippers, loops, and ties, there are a few things dangling from my “mochila.”

    Toy Hand - A Spanish toymaker named José Sanchís, better known as Mocho, handed out these small trinkets to pilgrims he felt represented the spirit of the Camino. He delivered them hidden in his palm during a handshake and a blessing. My friend Steve Walther not only received one on one of his Caminos but was also fortunate to meet Mocho in Santiago and was given a handful of “little hands” to pass out himself. Steve honored both Bonnie and me with one of these treasures. It may be simple, but to me, it is a Camino relic, full of meaning and purpose.

    Flashlight - Earlier this spring, I attended the annual American Pilgrims on the Camino gathering, a joint celebration with the Canadian Company of Pilgrims. Our theme was, “Bridges of the Camino: Connecting Cultures and Hearts.” In a world with so much division, this is a theme that resonates with me. During one of our sessions, we passed out these small flashlights (in lieu of candles) and filled the room with our sparks as a demonstration that we can all be a light in a dark world. I attached mine to my backpack as a reminder to sparkle.

    This year, the small turtle that was on my backpack in past years is hanging from my neck. It serves as a reminder of my first Camino with my family, where we referred to ourselves as the Turtles. There is an intentionality to the turtle’s pace that keeps it from rushing or racing, which is what I need. Being present in the moment is how I want to journey in this life. The turtle necklace sits underneath a coin and a pearl, representing a couple of Jesus' parables about value: the Lost Coin and the Pearl of Great Price. This necklace is a result of what I learned on my solo Camino and a daily reminder for me of what is important; as such, it represents my sobriety.

    There is a scallop shell on my backpack. This is an iconic symbol of the Camino and identifies the bearer as a pilgrim. The Camino routes are marked with yellow arrows and shells that help guide the way to Santiago. My shell happens to be white and is missing the red St. James Cross. While this cross and sword symbol is important to Spain and Catholicism, it is also connected with the wars against the Moors and the mythic fable that St. James returned in the 9th century from heaven on a horse to defeat the Muslims. I’m not interested in wearing icons that combine religion and warfare, as my battle isn’t against other people. I’d rather build bridges.

    The best addition to my backpack this year is a photo of my friend Wade, whose face peeks out of the eyeglass pouch on my left strap. Wade is experiencing some health issues that prevent him from walking the Camino himself, so I am keeping him and his wife, Jill, close to my heart as I walk in proxy for him. You may see his face popping up throughout this journey.

    Flights to Dallas, Madrid, and San Sebastian; an Uber to Irun to our hotel, and then we walk and walk and walk!

    Ultreia et Suseia - onward and upward!    Baca selengkapnya

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  • Chad Estes2025Norte/Lebaniego/VadiniensePelancong

    Irun to Pasaia, part 1

    18 Juni, Spanyol ⋅ ⛅ 75 °F

    Our first day walking on the Camino Norte has begun! Last night we flew into San Sebastian airport, which is actually in Irún, and took a quick taxi to our hotel. We could have walked the two miles in about 40 minutes, but after 24 hours of travel, Bonnie and I weren't up for it with our backpacks. We checked into our hotel, grateful for a room with two single beds, showers, and towels. Then we found a local place for a shared pizza before crashing.

    Neither of us slept as well as we had hoped. I woke up several times having to go to the bathroom. Apparently, my bladder felt I had hydrated through the long travel day, but my head sure didn’t, as I had a pounding headache.

    About 3 AM, I decided to get out my Kindle to finish a book I was reading, An Atheist on Pilgrimage by Leonard Vance. It was fascinating how insightful and spiritual his 1200 KM Camino from Gibraltar to Santiago and finishing in Muxia was for him as (in his words) he "opened his mind." In reading it, it seemed that he opened his heart wide, wide open, but then I’m a chaplain and he is a research scientist, so we would describe things differently.

    Again, his words, “The Camino has given me a gift. I can see the world through the eyes of spirituality, and with it, the ability to engage perfect strangers in this kind of serious conversation. My world is a richer place, but in a way that is, as ever, ultimately unquantifiable.” I like this guy. I hope we become friends. After finishing his book, I thankfully fell back asleep.

    Bonnie and I woke up before our alarm, both from our internal clocks being messed up by the eight-hour time change, as well as our excitement to be on the Camino. Our backpacks had been prepped the night before, so we didn’t need much time before we were heading to our starting point. We were walking to a bridge that was half in Spanish territory and half in French. We had planned to find a bakery in France for our kickoff breakfast, but the bakery was closed. Our backup plan was a nearby cafe, but it was not open. A grumpy Frenchman was setting up the chairs on the patio, and he told us he'd be open in 10 minutes. We decided this ambiance added to the experience, so we decided to wait. Once opened, we ate Spanish tortilla, but in France, and the moody Frenchman turned out to be kind, giving us extra baguettes with our coffees. Bonnie and I both agreed, though, that our coffee back home at the neighborhood coffee shop (shout out to Common Grounds) serves better coffee and pastries than what we had today in France.

    We stopped and took pictures on the bridge at the border and then continued back into Irún. We followed the yellow arrows, which we found on the ground, on posts, and on signs. It was easy to navigate the Camino path through this border town, and that can’t be said for all cities on the Camino.

    The large Catholic church in Irún was closed as we passed by, as was the Santiago Hermitage, but I was able to take a couple of interesting photos through a window. The Guadalupe Hermitage was open after our first gradual climb, and it was full of interesting art and a crucifix suspended from the center of the ceiling. Later in the day, we entered the Basilica of Cristo de la Bonanza, which had a model ship with a green hull hanging from its ceiling and a couple of life preservers on the altar, which made more sense when we learned that the locals pray for the fishermen’s safe return, as well as boatloads of fish.

    The walk today took us out of the city, through farmland, and over a mountain pass that was full of livestock. One donkey laughed and brayed at us for a good half a minute. We laughed at ourselves today, too. The sun hoodie I am wearing says, “Mauka to Makai,” which in Hawaiian means “from the mountains to the sea,” which is a great theme for these first two weeks. Weatherwise, there was not a cloud in the sky, and while it wasn’t as warm as it is in other parts of Spain, both of us had finished our three liters of water before we reached the town of Pasai Donibane, where we stopped for the day. Most pilgrims push on to San Sebastian, but we had agreed not to rush the beginning and let our bodies adjust to the walk, especially since this route starts out with a gnarly climb. We were glad we did. We were spent when we arrived and grateful for a private room, hot showers, and a nap.

    So much planning goes into a Camino; I spent over six months on the logistics and preparing for this journey. Today, I’m actually here, grateful for the plan but acknowledging that I find so much joy being present for the things you can never schedule. We met our first couple of pilgrims. The first two were English lads from Manchester and Newcastle, both living in London. They've been walking from St. Jean Pied de Port and will be ending in San Sebastian, a mini-Camino before they join their family on holiday. As we reached the first monument past the Guadalupe Chapel, we met an American couple. I asked where they were from, and they said a small town on the Idaho/Washington border. We laughed and told them we were from Boise, and they said they were from Moscow. Their names are Tom and Carol, and today is their last day of a walking tour through the Basque region. We had a nice conversation about their journey and travels, as well as ours. If we had passed by them in Boise, even in the Basque block, maybe we would have politely nodded to each other. But when you meet at a Jaizkibel historical landmark on the other side of the world from home, within five minutes these strangers are inviting us to use their cabin in McCall.

    This is the Way.    Baca selengkapnya

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  • Chad Estes2025Norte/Lebaniego/VadiniensePelancong

    Pasaia to San Sebastian

    19 Juni, Spanyol ⋅ ☁️ 75 °F

    What a spectacular second day on the Camino Del Norte! Bonnie and I are officially in San Sebastian, and we are glad that we took our time getting here.

    After yesterday's brutal climb, we were SO glad we decided to break up the journey and have fresher legs this morning for the relatively short day into San Sebastian. Staying in Pasai (which I've seen spelled as Pisaya or Pasajes) was an adventure in itself! Staying at the hostel there can be quite challenging – it has a limited number of beds, doesn't take reservations, and only opens its doors at 4 PM. We'd even heard accounts of pilgrims waiting in line only to find no room, or arriving at 4 PM to discover beds were filled because doors opened earlier!

    To counter this, Bonnie and I tried to make reservations at the one hotel in town, which is also small with a limited number of seven rooms. Initially, they told us in an email that they preferred to reserve rooms for people staying two or more nights, so we were declined because we only wanted to stay one night. They told me to contact them back in a couple of months. Down, but not out, I messaged them again a few weeks later, saying, "I know you said to reach back in a few months. However, I’m asking again as it is now a new month," I figured the worst they could say was no, again, but they actually agreed to reserve the room for us! It was certainly more money than we usually budget for a night on the Camino, but it was incredibly well spent for the rest and hospitality we received!

    When we arrived, they gave us the key to a little attic apartment with the air conditioner already turned on and cold water in the fridge. Amazingly, there was an elevator! Bonnie and I typically always take the stairs, but when we found out the elevator opened directly into our room, we opted to use it as our own private entrance into our mini-flat! This place also came with breakfast, and knowing we had a shorter day to walk, we decided to stay until 8:30 AM for it. We joked it would just be toast, but we were pleasantly surprised at the array of foods set out – a very pleasant breakfast served with hospitality. We even had a good conversation with three French pilgrims we'd met yesterday on the mountain pass, who joined us at our table, chatting about yesterday's walk and today's path all in gestures because of our inability to speak French and theirs to speak English. But the best part of the breakfast was the croissants, which were to die for, so flaky – certainly what we were expecting yesterday in France!

    Speaking of food, on the flight to Madrid one of our flight attendants handed out Nestle Crunch candy bars to Bonnie and I with our cups of coffee. He said, “Energy!” with a smile as he handed them to us. We found it a strange word to use. We thought of the candy more as a sweet reward for behaving well on a 10-hour flight while being crunched together in a cigar tube. We shared one of the bars and Bonnie put the other in her backpack. Well, yesterday, we crested the top of one of the hills and sat down to take a much needed break. I looked at Bonnie expectantly and said, "Energy?!" She laughed, said "absolutely!" and dug into her pack. We shared the second chocolate bar, praising the memory of our flight attendant who was our first Camino Angel of this trip!

    After our wonderful breakfast, we donned our backpacks and took a 2-minute boat ride across the river. We decided to find another cup of coffee as there would be no stops along the route today for additional caffeine. One shop owner wasn't open yet but kindly directed us to a cafe down the street where a nice barista made us great coffee con leches.

    We took the trail to the end of town where we passed next to a shipbuilding factory. The trail turns into a vigorous set of stone stairs switchbacking up the mountain. We met a couple of locals heading the other direction, with a large battery on a cart, lowering it down one step at a time for the lighthouse below us– quite an effort!

    We had several amazing views of the coast today under another cloudless sky, while at other times the forest we passed through was so thick you would have had no idea you were near the ocean. Many locals take to these trails for exercise, and there are scattered picnic benches along the way for people to enjoy.

    At one of these picnic benches we met three female pilgrims from Romania. We noticed that one, named Diana, was walking barefoot! I was flabbergasted, but she said it helps her connect to the Earth and that she's conditioned her feet. She mentioned that when she started, even sand tickled her feet, but now she can walk over almost anything! Unfortunately, this afternoon, we saw her heading back up the trail towards us. We asked what was wrong, and she said she lost one of her sandals! She had decided it was best to put her sandals on when she got to the hot pavement, but one was missing. She was literally wearing just one sandal! Her other Romanian pilgrims were waiting with her further down the path with her backpack while she searched for the lost shoe.

    Halfway through our trek we came upon a sign welcoming pilgrims to come up the hill for rest and refreshment. I hadn’t read about this place in any of the guidebooks. The owner said he ran an albergue for pilgrims and that they also bake their own sourdough bread in a wood fire stone oven. I was a little sceptical, fearing that he kidnapped pilgrims who wandered by his place and ate them after preparing them in the oven, but he turned out to just be a baker. We ate our second breakfast and had our third cup of coffee because we have learned to never pass by an open cafe on the Camino.

    Finally, we arrived in San Sebastian, which is just amazing! There are thousands upon thousands of people enjoying the beach on this beautiful sunny day. The beach is nestled into a cove, so it doesn't get large waves, making it very fun for families to bring their kids to swim. The sand is soft, and the water is warm. I honestly think this is the nicest beach I have ever been to! Bonnie and I walked the entire length of the beach after showering and doing our laundry. Even though there are so many people, it doesn't seem too crowded; it feels like it was created for this purpose. I love the ocean and beaches, and I think I could spend much more time here. But who knows, probably after being on the beach for a few days I’d be hankering for another long walk.

    For dinner tonight, we headed out to Old Town, under the Good Shepherd statue on the top of the hill. I introduced Bonnie to Pinchos, the Basque version of Spanish tapas. I had been taught well by my friend Nancy Reynolds when I passed through Pamplona two summers ago when she was also in that city. She encouraged me to invite my friends to come along but was a little surprised when I showed up with 17 of them! It’s easy to make friends on the Camino, especially when you invite them to have Pinchos.

    If I tell you we ended the night with a piece of Basque cheesecake, you may stop believing this is a pilgrimage and instead an indulgence. Well, tonight it was…    Baca selengkapnya

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  • Chad Estes2025Norte/Lebaniego/VadiniensePelancong

    San Sebastian to Zarautz

    20 Juni, Spanyol ⋅ 🌙 77 °F

    If all you knew about the journey to Santiago de Compostela was from my writings and photos the past couple of days you might think it is all butterflies and rainbows. The reality is so far from that. It is truly one of the hardest things a person can choose to do, not just because it is physically taxing to walk 15-20 miles a day, but because it gives you an opportunity to get to know yourself, your belief systems, and your world view - both your inward thoughts and your outward projections - in a way that you might not experience back home. We avoid things that cause us pain and even distance ourselves from things that might make us uncomfortable. Our social media is full of the pounds we have lost, the goals we have achieved, and the quotes that make us feel good about ourselves. But life isn’t really like that. Neither is the Camino, but then I wouldn’t get that many thumbs-ups, likes, or heart emojis from photos of the mud and manure on the trail, the used toilet paper wads under the bushes, and the third of today’s trail that was on the shoulder of the highway with cars and motorcycles zooming too close by.

    I had a boss once that chewed me out in the morning and let me stew and simmer in his ire and my self-doubt all day long. At the end of that work day he told me that the situation he castrated me for wasn’t actually significant and to him it was all in the past. I asked him why in God’s name he had so thoroughly punished me and his response was, “Sometimes you just need to jump on someone to see what squeezes out.” I didn’t like that answer, and for a long time I didn’t like him very much either, but I’ve come to understand what he was trying to tell me that day, hardships can reveal our true character.

    I think that may be why I keep walking the Camino. I get to see what squeezes out.

    Recently I bought an Oura ring. Each morning I log onto the app and it tells me how well I slept, how rested I am, and a score of my resilience. You wouldn’t think I would need an app for this data but it has been helpful to know my body so that I can take care of it. During the day the ring can tell me when my stress levels are elevated, when I need a breathing exercise, or when I need to get up from my desk and stretch my legs. Again, things my body is probably already telling me but I’ve learned how to ignore the cues.

    This morning my app told me I had missed a night of sleep and that the three hours that I did rest was more like a nap. With the 24-hour travel day and subsequent jet lag earlier this week, combined with two rigorous days of hiking, my body is worn out. The problem was last night I couldn’t shut off my head.

    For the purpose of this journal entry it doesn’t matter what was keeping me up, but it does matter how I think about this Camino. I came here to process, so should I be upset that it is working? I lay in bed in San Sebastian this morning realizing that bemoaning my restlessness wouldn’t move me forward, and I came to do just that - advance forward and upward. I decided to spend my day reframing the things that were making me uncomfortable.

    My frustration continued with the chaotic cello (stamp) gathering process at the cathedral. My experience in San Sebastian mirrored the flippant attitude I was shown in both Lisbon and Porto from their cathedrals on earlier Caminos. While the brochure on the table outside the church office is a message from Pope Francis encouraging pilgrimages in this year of Jubilee it seems it wasn’t read by some of the staff. I don’t walk away from these encounters feeling honored for being a pilgrim but instead a burden. After reflection, I reframed this. While I enjoy collecting stamps in my credential and turning it in at the finish to get my Compostela certificate in Latin, I don't need validation from a religious institution to feel good about my journey. The true value lies in the pilgrimage and the personal growth I can take home with me.

    Sometimes, it's the little things that require reframing. Bonnie and I scouted out cafes last night for a quick breakfast and coffee before leaving the city, only to find our first choice still setting up for the day. As we scouted for another cafe I spied a marvelous display of *pastel de natas* my favorite Portuguese pastry. I could taste the warm custard and flakey crust as we walked into the cafe only to realize that the display belonged to the the bakery next door, which was closed. The cafe owner wasn't interested in helping me break into his neighbor's establishment. The initial disappointment quickly turned into a positive when we met a young Australian lad named Andy who was starting his long walk in the opposite direction we were going. It was a joy to share our experiences and encourage him on his journey as we had just come form the Way he was going. This unexpected encounter happens all the time on the Camino and is a result of the little things like closed cafe’s, that deposit us into the perfect moment with another soul if we are open to it.

    We also met two teachers from San Francisco, walking alongside them for nearly two hours, sharing stories as we walked at a similar pace. Later, we encountered a young Norwegian woman who had walked from her home in Norway. She had been on the trail for 100 days and it had been devoid of good connections as not many pilgrims were on her route and those who were didn’t speak her language. This week her mother joined her in San Sebastian to walk to Bilbao with her because sometimes you just really need your mom. She became teary as she told us her story and was reframing her spirit so she could continue her Camino. I’m not sure what lessons this taught her, but it was obvious that she found comfort in her family relationships and sometimes we don’t understand those deep connections until they aren’t available to us the same way they have always been.

    Physical challenges on the Camino are inevitable. My IT band and left knee have been bothering me, especially on downhill stretches. These coastal towns and cities are all separated by hills and mountains to effort up and curse down. My reframe here is acknowledging my ability to take care of myself. A knee brace from the pharmacy that was less than $5, pain cream that I brought from my chiropractor, and adjusting my stride to shorter steps and keeping my knees bent made today nearly pain-free.

    Even a stop at a place I knew to be a religious cult, based on reviews I had read online, became an opportunity for reframing. While their fear-mongering message plastered across their bus parked behind the cafe was unappealing - “Are You Prepared for what is Coming?”, their location was perfect for a break. They offered homemade cheese, bread, brownies and fresh fruit juice. They even had an espresso machine for my midmorning fix. The staff's genuine hospitality to all pilgrims was a stark contrast to my less-than-enthusiastic cathedral experience from yesterday. It was a valuable lesson in finding good in people where you might not expect it.

    Towards the end of the day, my body started to shut down. I ran out of energy, and the last mile into town felt endless. Once in town I realized our lodging was on the other side, meaning we still had another mile to go. I started to feel frustrated but Bonnie reminded me I had just walked 22 kilometers on what Oura had told me was a nap. Looking back, I'm incredibly proud of what my body accomplished with such little rest. My last little reframe is this - though today was longer than I expected, we are now that much closer to tomorrow’s destination.    Baca selengkapnya

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  • Chad Estes2025Norte/Lebaniego/VadiniensePelancong

    Zarautz to Deba, part 1

    21 Juni, Spanyol ⋅ ☁️ 68 °F

    Washington Irving coined the term, "Fork in the Road." On the Camino, these options to take a path other than the official or traditional route are called "Variants."

    Robert Frost’s famous poem describes the tension at these crossroads: Which path do you take?

    Jamie doesn’t mind these junctions. As a rule, she is drawn to scenic routes. When out for a hike, she is known to divert down a trail just to see where it leads, even if it is just a rabbit hole.

    Not me.

    Once I’m on the interstate, I monitor my miles per hour, the miles to go, and the minivan that I’ve leapfrogged three times. I consolidate gas fill-ups, potty breaks, and meal purchases into one 15-minute or under pit stop per seven hours of drive time.

    Jamie points longingly to the sign for the scenic highway, and I answer, "Not this trip. We have to get to Portland," even though we aren’t on a tight schedule. She points to the Multnomah Falls exit, and I tell her, "We’ve hiked that before."

    Bonnie and I decided we would try something different on this Camino. If the Way gave us an option, we would take a hard right. On the Norte, this means staying close to the coast even though the distance and difficulty may increase exponentially. Our hope was that the views would too.

    Today, we took two of these variants on the way to Deba from Zarautz. It cost us more time, more effort, and more kilometers. It cost us the chance for a *cafe con leche* break in Itziar as well as all of the Camino friends we expected to travel with today. We didn’t see any other pilgrims on these two routes (but there were certainly a lot of locals).

    My photos don’t do justice to what we saw and experienced. There were times I was dancing with my poles. At one point Bonnie literally yelled out loud to me, "Dad, this is why we came!" And both kept uttering, “Wow!”, “Would you look at that?!” and "Jesus Christ!" Figuring he was responsible for all this.

    Our path less traveled took us above the geological formations called Flysch along the coast. They are alternating layers of hard and soft sedimentary rock, jutting out of the ground, and making you believe this world we live in is worth exploring, treasuring, and protecting.

    It made me rethink my position on scenic routes and diversions. It made me value walking and slowing down. It made me think I should let Jamie take the wheel more often.

    Today left me pleasantly exhausted and positively fulfilled.

    It made all the difference.    Baca selengkapnya

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  • Chad Estes2025Norte/Lebaniego/VadiniensePelancong

    Deba to Markina-Xemein, part 1

    22 Juni, Spanyol ⋅ ☁️ 68 °F

    An entry of random thoughts:

    Yesterday was an epic journey! Taking the variants and seeing the Flyche was crazy and memorable, but it expended a lot of energy. The route was much different than the traditional path, and I think it took a toll on Bonnie and me. We were grateful for the overcast weather, as the previous two days were hot and sunny. Last night, it rained, so our path today is damp, muddy, and the rocks and pavement are slippery.

    ***

    I’ve done a lot of planning and scouting for this trip, but I’m also letting each day come as it is. Yesterday, I was focused on that route and the entrances to the variants so that we didn’t miss them. I didn’t pay attention to today's section until last night when I checked in my guide books. We noticed that today is marked as "hard" in terms of effort, like one of the hardest on the Norte, which neither of us were prepared for after yesterday.

    ***

    Bonnie and I were so thankful for our accommodations last night. They were difficult to find because a Bruce Springsteen concert had everything booked from Deba back to San Sebastian. Months ago, I attempted to book a room from a pension and was told none were available, however they did have an apartment for rent. I put a deposit down, and it was so nice to have not only nice beds but separate rooms, separate bathrooms, and a beautiful ocean view (as we had no energy to walk down to the ocean at the end of the day).

    Funny story: when we arrived at the office to get our keys, the manager told us the apartment was back up on the hill we had just struggled down. Bonnie basically lost her religion coming down that slope, and when the lady pointed back up the hill, we both said, "Hell no!"

    This town has actually built a series of two outdoor elevators to get people up the hill, but even the walk to the elevator at that time seemed like more steps than either of us had left. So, even though we had intended not to get into a moving vehicle until we were finished with this Camino, we did accept a ride back up to the apartment. We only came down once for groceries and dinner yesterday evening.

    The apartment also had a washing machine, which was so nice to clean our clothes after yesterday. We laughed about how appalling it must have smelled in the car with the apartment manager. Earlier in the day I had sat down on a bench for a break next to a lady who appeared to have been picking up dog poop in a field. No sooner did I sit down than she stood up, walked across the street, and just stood there. Bonnie laughed, saying, "Dad you must smell pretty bad; the poop scooper is trying to distance themselves from you!"

    ***

    The restaurant that looked good to us was closed for no obvious reason, but that can be expected on the Camino. We found a kebab shop that gave a nice deal: kebab, french fries, and a drink. The only annoying part was the TV that was blaring this god-awful song in the background over and over and over. The whole time we were there, it was my turn to lose my religion. Bonnie just laughed at me.

    ***

    When we got back to the apartment, we put out our laundry to dry, and I set to edit photos, which I fell asleep between almost every other one. We went to bed early and both rested well. We did talk about the coming day and how there would be a long stretch, about 17 KM, unsupported by any towns, facilities, or food. So, we would have to prepare for that.

    When faced with a difficult challenge I tend to put my head down and just push through it. Bonnie reminded me to keep my head up today, be present with the moment, and even stop often to look behind us to see where we had just come. While today was challenging, it was a beautiful, mostly forest walk through mist and clouds.

    We ate anise flavored mini-cakes from this town, as it is one of their specialties, and we shared the box of them with the other pilgrims at the community meal this evening.

    No one else at our table is walking all the way to Santiago.

    We are one day and 40,000 steps closer to it ourselves.    Baca selengkapnya

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  • Chad Estes2025Norte/Lebaniego/VadiniensePelancong

    Markina to Gernika, part 1

    23 Juni, Spanyol ⋅ ☁️ 68 °F

    Gernika is more than a bar that serves great crocettas in Boise’s Basque Block. Gernika is actually a sister-city to Boise and is located a long day’s walk from Markina and an even longer walk to Bilbao. 

    Gernika has a special oak tree where the town elders would assemble to make decisions for the Basque people. Through the years this tree has been the center for political decisions for the Basque people and a symbol of their freedom. Bonnie and I visited the trunk of the “Old Tree” that is now protected in a shrine. 

    We also visited the tile reproduction of Pablo Picasso’s Guernica, an enormous painting he created as a response to the bombing of this city during the Spanish Civil War by Nazi Germany. It shows scenes of chaos, pain and death. It is a powerful anti-war statement and sobering to take in while standing in the city that experienced this terror that killed so many of its citizens. 

    We also took in the black and white photo exhibit that shows the devastation of the bombing. The only thing I had hoped to experience, but we didn’t arrive in time to see, was the Peace Museum and its exhibits about that status of peace in the world today.

    My soul is troubled, not just by the history of that bombing, but with the news reports of others this week. Why in God’s name are we spending so much on the making of war and so little on the humanity in our streets and cities? And it isn’t just my soul that is troubled, there is graffiti all over the Basque countryside condemning Israel for being like Nazi Germany in their vicious dehumanizing of the Palestinian people. It is a stinging comparison by the Basques, who themselves have a history of their innocents being victims of violence.

    Still glad you are reading my Camino musings? As the Irish poet Bono once said in a concert:

    “Am I buggin’ you?

    I didn’t mean to bug ya.

    Okay, Edge, play the blues.”

    ***

    Speaking of the Irish, we had a wonderful communal dinner last night with a pilgrim from Ireland. She has been walking the Via Podiensis Camino from Le Puy, France and today was her last stage. As we ate together she told us her story. She worked as a nurse throughout her career but got burned out during the Covid epidemic. Those two years felt like ten years to her, so as soon as she could she retired. She then began taking care of her mom who was in her nineties. She and her other family members would rotate going to their childhood home to take care of her. Sheila had planned a two-week holiday where she would start the Camino in Le Puy and then intended to come home to her mom. She passed before Sheila left, so she decided she could walk longer as she had no one to rush back for.

    I asked her how she was doing processing her grief. She said this last week it has been difficult knowing she would be returning back to Ireland.

    “There is home, and there is home-home. Home is where you currently live. Home-home is where you are from - your place and your childhood home, but really what it stands for is your parents. Going home will never be the same for me as it will never include my mum again.”

    She apologized for crying at the table, but we showed her that we were too.

    Home-home and grief. 

    Thank you, Sheila.

    ***

    Speaking of grief, last year Bonnie and I met a wonderful Danish man on our first day walking from Oviedo on the Primitivo Camino. We leapfrogged those first couple of days, but then stayed together in the same Albergue on the second night. We learned he was on his first Camino in order to grieve his 18-year old son who had passed of cancer. Though it had been a few years he felt stuck in his grief, and thought walking a solo Camino might provide some healing or at least some meaningful space. 

    It hadn’t been that long since Alex had passed, so Bonnie and I could both really relate to his pain. One night we met up with him for dinner and asked him if he’d like to tell us about his son. It was a beautiful night of stories as this Dad with a tender heart shared his love for his son and what had made him so special. 

    We celebrated together at another dinner in Santiago after finishing our Caminos and have kept in touch since. He told me it was difficult to get his friends and family to understand all that had happened to him on his pilgrimages, but that he was trying to let the experience into his heart and be open to sharing it however he could.

    Today he reached out to me and shared that he will be back to Spain next week for a different Camino routes, this time with his girlfriend and his younger son.

    These Camino connections are simply special. I’m not convinced that it is about Spain, the specific routes, or any of the religious rituals. But when you take time off to disconnect from chaos and connect with nature and each other, it creates space for learning, listening, growing, and moving forward.

    Ultreia et Suseia!    Baca selengkapnya

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  • Chad Estes2025Norte/Lebaniego/VadiniensePelancong

    Gernika to Bilbao

    24 Juni, Spanyol ⋅ 🌩️ 79 °F

    Today took a significant toll on Bonnie and me. We have walked for a week and have covered 102 miles. We climbed up and down like Billy goats and smelled like them too. It was by far our longest day at 20 miles, and was also the hottest. Some of our new friends cut this stage in two, but Bonnie and I wanted a well-deserved day off in Bilbao tomorrow so we pushed through.

    I didn’t take as many pictures as I was putting my focus into moving forward. I’m also not going to spend much effort writing this evening as I am spent. I’m sure tomorrow will look different. We know it is supposed to be 15 degrees cooler and we can’t wait to see the Gugenheim museum!

    My one topic for tonight are Camino Angels. These are the people and experiences that seem to be heavenly sent while you are walking. We experienced several of them today:

    The sweet lady that was selling skewers of fresh fruit outside of her home in the middle of a tough hill.

    The house that left a sign for the passing pilgrims that it was okay to use their water.

    The vending machine at the top of a hill that was full of very cold drinks.

    Bonnie navigating us down a series of stairs in Bilbao, that I don’t think even the locals knew about, so that we could get to our room without any extra steps. 54,000 was enough!    Baca selengkapnya

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  • Chad Estes2025Norte/Lebaniego/VadiniensePelancong

    Rest day in Bilbao - Guggenheim

    25 Juni, Spanyol ⋅ ⛅ 72 °F

    Today was a day of refueling for our body, mind and soul. Bilbao provided us the nourishment that Bonnie and I were craving.

    We started the day by walking to the Guggenheim Museum, stopping first at a cafe that roasts its own coffee beans. We celebrated our best java of the trip by ordering second cups along with their freshly made acai bowls.

    We arrived at the museum early so we could walk around the exterior and take in the architecture in its surroundings, including the flower cat, the metal spider, and the shiny silver balls. The building itself is beyond any design I've ever experienced; every few steps it took on a new look as the perspectives with all the elements were almost fluid in motion. While I don't have an architectural background, there's something special about a building that seems to have a different design element every 20 feet, evoking different thoughts and feelings, including, “Hey, that looks like Noah’s Ark!”

    Once inside, I was truly impressed with the modern way to see the museum, using QR codes for audio tours and recordings about each exhibit. Some even encouraged us to listen to the background of the piece before entering the room and experiencing it. Some exhibits suggested that you start from a specific vantage point as there was an order to the presentation. All of this was a good reminder to me that some art needs direction for it to be experienced as intended.

    One of the first exhibits we walked into was a series of large metal walls that encouraged visitors to examine what time and space meant to them while walking through and around them. Some of the walls leaned in, some leaned out; you were never sure exactly where they were leading you or what was inside. Not only did you get to experience walking through the exhibit, but there was a small room with a miniature of the whole setup so you could see the artist's planning. What was also thoughtful is that on the second floor of the museum there was a vantage point where you could look down on the exhibit to see where you had been, kind of a God’s view of life down on the first floor. I had never experienced an exhibit quite like this.

    It was also fantastic to see retrospectives of different artists, with representations of their entire life's work. It was encouraging to see how artists grew and expanded what they did through the years. The creativity in these artists didn't end with one exhibit; it grew with their experience, from their travels, and from their relationships. This challenged me to consider my own work with photography and writing, and how to continue growing with what I'm creating.

    There were a couple of exhibits that powerfully demonstrated the use of the power of words, space, and visuals. I found myself soaking up the experience. There is a provocative nature in many of the pieces, not for shock value's sake, but in order to make a statement and challenge complacency. Art can be a wake up call when everyone has been sleep walking. Again, it made me think about my own projects. Some of them could be considered provocative, depending on where you are standing, but they have always been for a purpose. The truth is, I know that sometimes I have held back simply because of fear of how something could be interpreted. I want to move beyond that.

    The artists that I experienced today didn't seem to be ruled by fear (however one created her art from a mental institution she placed herself in). If somebody didn't like their art, they didn't like their art; if someone didn't appreciate it, they just didn't appreciate it. But if today was any representation there are many people who are moved by these artists and what they have created. I'd like to think that art makes a difference, and I certainly want my art to be something that I can create with the purpose of bringing light into the world, to create conversation, and to show beauty, even in its rawest form. This invigorated me today.

    Bonnie and I have made the most of our day off in Bilbao. Though we are “resting,” we'll have over 20,000 steps in by the end of the day, but at least we don't have a backpack on our shoulders. We walked to the cathedral to get our Camino stamp and it too is a very impressive building, filled with gorgeous light. The art we experience in the churches is so different from what we experienced today in the Guggenheim. I don’t think I’m moved the same way by religious art, but I enjoy taking photos of their altarpieces and some of the statues, especially the ones that represent St. James or someone on a pilgrimage.

    Bilbao seems to be a city for walking, and it would be difficult to get around this metropolis in a car. I've marveled that there are so few scooters and bicycles; everybody seems to be on their feet.

    For lunch, we found a restaurant that served us a delicious seafood paella. Then we navigated to get a massage from an agency that had very high reviews. They listed a bunch of different massage options. I wanted the one where, when they push on a spot that hurts, you say "Ow," and they work on it until you don't feel that way anymore. We picked a Balinese massage that incorporated a lot of deep tissue work, as well as stretching, and we paid very little compared to what we would back home for this 90 minutes of body ministry. When we left, it felt like we were floating.

    We were also thankful to find a Decathlon sports store right around the corner from where we are staying. It is good for me because I've literally walked my ass off and I needed new hiking pants, as I spent too much time yesterday stopping to pull up my Patagonia trousers.

    Tomorrow we move forward and upward.    Baca selengkapnya

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  • Chad Estes2025Norte/Lebaniego/VadiniensePelancong
    1

    Bilbao to Pobena

    26 Juni, Spanyol ⋅ ☀️ 73 °F

    Getting out of a big city on a Camino route can have its challenges: long, boring, traffic, neighborhoods, lack of signage, lack of scenery, and industrial.

    When Jamie and the girls and I did our first Camino trip, walking out of Lisbon and Porto was like magic. We had started very early, before sunrise, as there were long, hot days ahead of us. The cities were still slumbering, and we had the streets to ourselves. I’ve had friends share how much they hated these stages, but for us, I remember walking down the middle of these empty European cities like we owned them.

    Today’s stage leaving Bilbao isn’t known for being picturesque, even though it takes you back around the Guggenheim Museum. The first 15 or so KM are heading downriver through the outskirts of town. The best term is certainly, "industrial." We also woke up to overcast skies and a drizzle, which set the mood as well.

    Several years ago, I was going through the winter blues and bemoaning the lack of anything to photograph. The trees were bare. The sky was gray. The light was muted, and I was depressed. I was given the challenge to go out and find beauty, which I did both in nature as well as in people. My friend Kat told me to come take photos of her daughter Lula. It is a precious memory for me. She didn’t always like being in the camera frame. She already had a lot of attention on her because of a cancer diagnosis, but she was a willing model, and the images are a lasting treasure.

    Outside, I found that the conditions were perfect for black and white photography, which is how I got started as a photographer as a teenager, but had fallen out of practice when everything went digital. Industrial doesn’t scare me off anymore, not even walking through it. Industrial is its own kind of beauty, and I happen to love what I captured along the route today.

    ***

    A couple of funny stories:

    We stopped at a cafe after crossing the river in a suspended ferry. They didn’t have any of the pastries I wanted, so Bonnie kindly looked up a bakery down the street and headed off to get us some treats. I had been hoping for a chocolate or Nutella-filled croissant. What she brought back were eclairs. Normally, we split one, laughing about which one of us would get the side with the filling. With the eclairs, there was no lack of filling. I swear they were as heavy as a 1lb burrito you get late at night at Los Betos. We laughed our heads off at each other trying to eat the pastries without spilling any of the filling. It was a losing battle, but the neighborhood birds were soon flying around us enjoying a second breakfast too.

    Later, we entered a church so we could get a stamp in our credential for this town. The church had a culture office on the bottom floor, but there was no attendant. We saw an older lady approaching us, and after trying with words we attempted miming to her that we were looking for a “cello,” a “stamp.” She looked at the empty office, shook her head, and then pointed Bonnie down the hall to where the bathrooms were. We tried to tell her, "no, we don’t need the 'bano,'" but now she became the mime, putting her hands between her legs, thrusting them downward, and making a loud gushing noise! We couldn’t help but start laughing! Thankfully, the gentleman running the office came by at that time and stamped our Camino passports for us. We left without using the facilities.

    The second half of our walk today was along a bike path. It was so different not being on trails and dirt roads, as so much of the last week had been. It was flat; however, this meant we made great time, putting us back at the oceanside with our afternoon free. When we first arrived, the beach was deserted, and the tide was low, but after lunch and showers, it was packed with sun worshippers and surfers as the tide and the sea breeze were accompanied with perfect blue skies and puffy white clouds.    Baca selengkapnya

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  • Chad Estes2025Norte/Lebaniego/VadiniensePelancong

    Pobena to Castro Urdiales

    27 Juni, Spanyol ⋅ ☀️ 72 °F

    I battled with demons all night long. Not ones in my head, ones buzzing around my head, as in mosquitos. I reacted to their bites and took a benadryl to counteract their poison. When I woke up this morning I had reacted to the benadryl and my head was in a fog. After hunting and killing a half dozen demons, four of which were filled with both their blood and mine, we headed to the nearest cafe where I attempted to counteract the fog with caffeine. My attitude was lousy until we climbed the stairs outside of town and saw the coastline below. Then the fog lifted. 

    The first half of the walk was high against the shore and included views of waves, trees, horses, tunnels and lots of mining and shipping history from this area. We passed out of the Basque region and started walking through Cantabria. It looks and feels different to both Bonnie and me, beginning with the architecture and style of the buildings.

    We had a choice about halfway through today's hike to take a longer route up and around, or a shorter path along the ocean. We didn’t care so much about the length of the route but the ocean description made up our minds to go right. Well, we didn’t really get to see the ocean as that whole next section was on a highway with no shoulder and we had to look out for traffic. It wasn’t picturesque or enjoyable and I was quickly reverting back to my earlier foul mood.

    But once again the Camino provided connection with a pilgrim we needed to meet and now we are not second guessing our path.

    We stopped at the first cafe we came to, to rest our toes and refuel on caffeine. We saw people that we met yesterday, a group of retired seniors from the US who were biking the Norte in a group, and a few other new pilgrims as well, including Brian and Daniel. Daniel kept looking at my hoodie, trying to read the words on the front. Finally he asked me, “‘Mauka to Makai’ Is that Hawaiian?”

    “Yes! It means, ‘From the mountains to the sea!” I thought it was an appropriate shirt for this Camino.”

    We discussed Hawaii, our Camino histories, and our plans for the ones we are currently walking. Then he asked, “Hey, have you been on a podcast?”

    Daniel recognized me from Dan Mullin’s podcast that was recorded after our family walked the Portuguese Camino from Lisbon. He specifically remembered me sharing about how important it had been for us to take rest days on that stretch. He also remembered the story about Jamie having a birthday dessert at a special restaurant in Porto. I was blown away that he remembered me as well as the stories. This is the second time that Bonnie and I have had a chance encounter with someone who recognized me on the Camino from one of the podcast interviews I've been on.

    As Bonnie and I walked into Castro Urdiles I continued to process the power of stories. I’m grateful for the ones we have told, and am excited about the ones we are writing down right now.    Baca selengkapnya

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  • Chad Estes2025Norte/Lebaniego/VadiniensePelancong

    Castro to Laredo

    28 Juni, Spanyol ⋅ ☀️ 73 °F

    It helps to be curious when you walk a Camino. You won’t be much of a pilgrim if you aren’t open to trying new modes of transportation (your feet), new foods (that’s not what we call a tortilla back home), new languages and phrases, and even unfathomable bathroom and sleeping arrangements.

    If you are stuck in your ways, have life figured out, and believe that the Camino should cater to your needs, then you aren’t much of a pilgrim; you are actually just a tourist, and you will have a miserable time getting to Santiago.

    I’ve been impressed by a couple of people who, though being atheists, plopped themselves down on this sacred path in Spain because they were curious to see what it could bring to their lives.

    One is an author, Shoshana Kerewsky, who wrote a biography of her breast cancer journey and her pilgrimage to Santiago, titled, “Cancer, Kintsugi, Camino: A Memoir.” I underlined the passage where she accepted the gift of a small metal cross from another pilgrim and carried it on the rest of her journey, despite being culturally Jewish, philosophically a Buddhist, and religiously an atheist. In her words, “I want to be flexible, I want not to cling to automatic behaviors rooted in beliefs I do not hold.”

    I like that she was open, that she embraced the religious and cultural history of the Camino. When I met her at an American Pilgrims of the Camino Gathering in Lake Tahoe, I told her that while reading her story, I realized she had been more open to embracing spirituality than I had on my first Camino because she was open. Even though I was the one with a Christian background, I found myself with biases against Catholicism that left me cold instead of curious. I told her I planned to warm up on my future pilgrimages, and I have.

    The second is Leonard Vance, who wrote the book, “An Atheist on Pilgrimage.” I found this paragraph of his so fascinating: “At the top of a rise, a clearing opens up within the forest, and a stone cross stands at its center, alight in the late morning sun. I stand and wonder. No one else is nearby, and I walk up to the cross and press my ear against the stone. I don’t know what I think is going to happen, but the coldness of the stone on my cheek is my first sensation, and a shock, although once I get used to it, a pleasant one. The deep silence I can hear within the stone is disappointing, if exactly to be expected, but I linger for a moment anyway. Very slowly, I start to hear sounds, muted echoes from those who have passed here across the centuries, a quiet cacophony of voices and footsteps rising up through the stone, each with its own burdens, pains, and yearnings. Someone seeing me like this might question my mental soundness, as I do in this moment, but I find it fascinating that my brain can conjure such things. It’s an unexplored dimension of innate spirituality elbowing around underneath my chosen scientific philosophy, and it intrigues me.”

    I remembered this story when Bonnie and I walked through a town in the Basque Country that had a series of stone crosses. I decided to do what Leonard did, not because I expected anything, but because I wanted to honor what he might call exploration (and I might refer to as faith).

    I put my head against the stone, and moments later, I was startled when I heard an audible voice clearly speaking two words, “Battery High.”

    Leaning up against the stone, I had somehow turned on my sports headphones that I had placed in the pocket on my left shoulder strap.

    Bonnie and I had a good laugh.

    And that is where I find myself today at the end of another long and beautiful walk: Battery high, charged with curiosity as opposed to being drained by judgments.

    Ultreia et Suseia!    Baca selengkapnya

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  • Chad Estes2025Norte/Lebaniego/VadiniensePelancong

    Laredo to Guemes

    29 Juni, Spanyol ⋅ 🌙 75 °F

    Life is a beach .. And then you fry.

    Bonnie and I stayed on the east end of Laredo, on the rim above the city. It presented us with an incredible view of the sunset over the beach last night, as well as the sunrise this morning. What didn’t happen in this heat wave was any cool air making its way up to our room. We woke up this morning already needing a shower.

    Laredo’s beachfront is really long, with two beach fronts combining for almost five miles of soft sand and rippling waves. Bonnie and I have been walking the length of all the beach fronts in the towns we have been staying in after dropping off our backpacks. The sand and water on our tired feet has been rejuvenating. Yesterday, we only traversed half of Laredo’s beach due to its size. This morning, however, we had to walk the entire length to get out of town, but now in hiking shoes and loaded backpacks, We then headed to a ferry that would take us across the river. We met up with several friends we have made along the Way, as well as met some new ones.

    Our time on the North coast of Spain is coming to a close; only three more days on the Norte. Our stages are a bit different from some of our friends, so we realized that we could be saying ‘Buen Camino” to them for the last time.

    Next we navigated our way up and over a pass and through a lot of shrubs and bushes. We were finally deposited onto the edge of Berria beach, which we think meant "Bare Naked" beach because most of the people we saw on the outskirts were without skirts. Bonnie looked at me in my long pants, long sleeves, sun hoodie pulled up over my ball cap and sunglasses, and said, “I think you are seriously overdressed for this place.”

    It was a diverse day of walking. We meandered through vacation towns and rural neighborhoods. By the end of the day, we were on hot pavement and wished for the cooler air and softer sand from this morning. We arrived much later than we anticipated, having spent nine hours in the sun. The heat wave that is hitting Spain right now is relentless. We needed a shower so bad. Then, after washing our clothes and hanging them to dry, we needed another shower.

    We asked our host if she had a fan. Since she didn’t speak English and I haven’t learned the Spanish words for “Where in the name of God and all that is Holy is the air conditioner unit?”, I had to play charades with her. I tried to mimic what a fan looks like and what it would do. When it was her turn, she acted out that I needed another shower.

    She did her best to explain to us that they don’t have air conditioners or fans in this town because they are never needed. They aren’t used to this heat either.

    Bonnie and I retreated to our room, making plans to leave really early tomorrow so we could beat the heat, not sure that we would be able to sleep that much anyway. About twenty minutes later, there was a knock on the door, and our host showed up with her friend who had brought us his room fan from his home and a gigantic bottle of very cold water. They were both beaming that they had found a way to soothe the llamas del infierno.

    Uletreia et Suseia!    Baca selengkapnya

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  • Chad Estes2025Norte/Lebaniego/VadiniensePelancong

    Guemes to Santa Cruz de Bezana

    30 Juni, Spanyol ⋅ ☁️ 73 °F

    We started early this morning, racing down the road hoping it would take awhile before the sun could find us. It is a long game. In those first hours of daylight the westward rays reach out like long fingers, and our shadows stretch out far in front of us, prompting us to hurry and keep up. As the sun gains on us with its warmth, our shadows retreat under us, hoping we can shield them from him. Then in the afternoon, our shadows have given up, and we are dragging them along behind us, faces into the heat of the day, which can be blistering. And that is why we started early.

    While the heat has not been kind, the light of today was simply glorious! We walked along a coastline that can only be reached by foot, and we celebrated like the roaring of the waves down below us. I’m sure the photos don’t do justice, but they will serve as a memory for me and bring me back to this place and time when I see them.

    Once we reached the town of Somo, our beach walking was done for the day. We did some ferry hopping over to Santander, the largest and capital city of the Cantabria region of Spain. Cities can be a welcome sight to Camino pilgrims who need to refresh their stores. Cities can also be overwhelming. It felt that way today. Once Bonnie and I had made our stop at the bank, the pharmacy, and a small sporting goods store, we headed out of town, only stopping for a cup of coffee.

    I hardly took any photos of the second half of the day. Nothing was as inspiring as the shore in the morning light and fog.

    We did meet a pilgrim on the ferry rides over to Santander. The conversation went something like this:

    “Buen Camino!”

    “Yes, Buen Camino!”

    “Where did you start today?”

    “Guemes. And you?”

    “Yes, Guemes. I didn’t see you in the Albergue.”

    “No, we stayed with some Angels in town.”

    “Where will you go today?”

    “Santa Cruz de Bezana. You?”

    “The town after that, Boo de Pielagos.”

    “I’m Chad and this is my daughter Bonnie.”

    “I’m walking.”

    Laughing, “Yes, I can see that. We are too. Where did you start walking?”

    “I started in Irun.”

    “We did too! Funny that we are just meeting now while we are on a boat and not walking!”

    “I am walking.”

    “Yes, but not till we get docked, I hope!”

    We talked more and found out that he too would be branching off to follow the Lebaniego trail and take it all the way to Leon. He was interested in our schedule and was intrigued that we were taking a day off in the Pico’s National Park.

    “We should exchange Whatsapp connections,” I suggested.

    “Yes, of course!”

    “What name should I put in for you?”

    “I’m walking!”

    “How did you learn English?”

    “My wife is from the States, and when she gets angry with me, she yells at me in English.”

    “I’m beginning to understand why.”

    I hand him my phone so he can add his number.

    Joaquin may be a new walking partner with us.

    Uletreia et Suseia!    Baca selengkapnya

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    Santa Cruz de Bezana to Santillana del M

    1 Juli, Spanyol ⋅ ☁️ 70 °F

    Bonnie sets two alarms in the morning. The first one just vibrates. 95% of the time this wakes her up. She has been doing this since our Camino in Portugal. Our family was waking up earlier than other pilgrims and she didn’t want our alarm to wake them. Her second alarm is a backup for those rare times she doesn’t wake up from the mini-shaking. Today was one of those days.

    She then shook my shoulder. “Dad, it's time.”

    Ugh.

    Some mornings are just bleh. 

    I didn’t care that I was in Spain or walking the Camino. All I knew is that I had a rough night of sleep, I had tortured dreams, and I wanted to roll back over and not start this day until much much later. Like maybe even tomorrow.

    Bonnie wasn’t pleasant either. There was a dog outside the window that should have shrunken into oblivion from the words coming out of her mouth. I wanted to make a dad joke about being dog-tired, but I knew better.

    We had planned to be on the road 30 minutes after the first alarm. It took us an hour.

    Once we left neither of us had anything to say except to point and grunt at arrows. So we kept moving forward.

    And that is what it took.

    By the time we found a marker that told us we were on the “Camino Oficial Official Route,” we started laughing, especially since the next sign was covered and it led us into a road construction zone. Our joints became lubricated by our motion and we got into a rhythm. Even though the day was overcast and we never met our shadows, we were thankful for the respite from the heat. We met new pilgrims and had good conversations. We reached our destination town in 6.5 hours having walked nearly 30 KM. 

    Sometimes you just have to keep moving forward - Ultreia.

    ***

    Santillana del Mar is a unique little town with great stone buildings and medieval history. It is a tourist trap and every other shop sells the same local treasures and treats. It is full of museums, including one full of religious art (that we went to) and one about medevial torture methods (that we didn’t). 

    Tomorrow is another full day of walking, our longest one yet, and like today it will be almost all on the road. Our feet are worn out from the pavement so as I write this I have my feet up on the wall hoping that the elevation will help the swelling subside. 

    Bonnie is already repacking her backpack. She has set her alarm. Both of them.    Baca selengkapnya

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    Santillana to San Vicente de la Barquera

    2 Juli, Spanyol ⋅ ☁️ 66 °F

    I mentioned that Santillana del Mar had a Museum of Torture. Bonnie thinks they should add a section on cobblestones.

    Cobblestones make cool-looking streets, and apparently, they last forever. But they wreak havoc on the soles of your feet, destroy your shoes, and if you trip on them, you are pretty much roadkill. Santillana’s streets are not just made of cobblestones; they are so poorly put together that we think kindergartners on field trips put them in place.

    Yesterday, Bonnie walked with me through the town to do our laundry, have lunch, and visit the church and the religious art museum. But later in the afternoon, after siesta, when the grocery store was open, she wouldn’t go with me. “No. I’m done. I’m not walking one more step on those cobblestones. If it means I go without breakfast tomorrow, I’d rather just be hungry.”

    “But Bonnie, you have walked 40,000 steps today. What is another couple of hundred?”

    “&^%$@”

    I went to the store by myself…

    This morning, we were happy to leave the cobblestones behind, but there was another cloud hanging over us. Actually, we were walking right through the middle of it, and we were grateful that we had already placed the rain shells over our backpacks. A few kilometers down the road, we stopped to put our ponchos on too. It never poured rain today; it just sort of hung in the air, and you had to walk through it. Despite the layer of vinyl around us, we were thoroughly soaked. You can’t avoid getting wet when you walk in the rainy mist for eight hours. The best you can do is protect your backpack so you will have something dry to put on at the end of the day.

    Being our longest day at 35 KM, this could have been our most depressing, but it wasn’t. Not long after putting on our ponchos, Bonnie said, “Dad, remember this?” and started playing a song off of her phone. Flashback to our first Camino on the Portuguese with Jamie and Kona, and all four of us were under our ponchos looking like giant, wet turtles. We have a video of us singing B.J. Thomas’ song, “Raindrops Keep Fallin’ on My Head.” The memory brings joy, and the two of us today sang the song again. The line, “It won’t be long till Happiness steps up to greet me,” rang true. Today was a wet and happy day.

    At the end of the day, our clothes are clean and dry. Our bodies are showered and warm. Our stomachs are full of pizza and shrimp linguini. Our shoes are still wet, but they are stuffed with balled-up newspaper that should soak up most of the moisture by tomorrow morning.

    Today, like most rainy days, I didn't get as many photos, but there were enough that captured the moments that when viewed will bring us back to the discussion we had this afternoon, “Bonnie, I know this has been a very long day, and we are soaked through…”

    “And our feet are on fire.”

    “Yes, and we haven’t eaten much.”

    “Not to mention heat rash and bug bites.”

    “And that last coffee was one of the worst I’ve had on any Camino. Yet, I can’t help but admit I am having a wonderful time today.”

    “I know, right? The views, the movement, the breathing, the air…”

    “The life.”

    “Ultreia, Dad! We keep moving forward!”

    And this is how by moving forward, we are also moving upward.

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  • Chad Estes2025Norte/Lebaniego/VadiniensePelancong

    Sam Vicente de la Barquera to Cades

    3 Juli, Spanyol ⋅ 🌩️ 68 °F

    The Camino Lebaniego is a special route in Spain that by itself does not lead to Santiago de Compostela. Instead, it is a three to four-day walk from the northern coast of Spain to the Monastery of Santo Toribio, where, according to legend (and the Catholic Church), is the largest surviving fragment of the “lignum crucis” or “wood of the cross.” Yes, that cross. How Constantine’s mother discovered Jesus’ cross as well as the ones of the two thieves, some 300 years after the crucifixion, is a story I haven’t studied, but this piece of the left arm of the Holy Cross has been in Spain since the 8th century.

    I read this interesting history on the cross: “When it arrived in Cantabria in the Middle Ages from the Church of the Holy Sepulchre in Jerusalem, brought by Saint Turibius of Astorga, it was the entire left arm of the cross, but splinter by splinter it was whittled away until it resembled a walking stick well on its way to becoming a chopstick.

    In 1679, the monks cut what remained into two pieces and encased them in a gilded silver cruciform reliquary. The longer, vertical piece is exposed near its base, revealing the hole where the nail was hammered through Christ’s wrist.

    The wood is Mediterranean cypress, which was and is common in the Holy Land, and carbon dating shows the tree from which it came grew 2,000-odd years ago. Science puts it in the right place at the right time, while faith verifies its bona fides for believers."

    The monastery, where Bonnie and I are walking to, is considered by Catholics to be one of the most holy places, along with Jerusalem, Rome, and Santiago de Compostela. I’m surprised this route isn’t more popular. It is mostly the Spanish people who make this pilgrimage.

    We didn’t choose this route because of the relic, although we are excited to visit the monastery, get our certificate, and see the Lebaniego Cross. We actually were looking to find a way from the Norte Camino down to the Frances route, and this fit the bill.

    Finding information about this route has been a challenge. Of the three phone apps that we have used on all of our Camino trips, none of them cover the Lebaniego or the Vadiniense route, which continues the path down to the Frances from the monastery. So we are using a Spanish website and app that we have to translate into English. We’ve also used YouTube to see what other pilgrims have experienced on this route.

    What we are most excited about is that this Camino takes us up and over the “Picos de Europa,” a mountain range in northern Spain with the second most visited national park in the country.

    So this morning we said goodbye to the ocean and hello to the mountains! We will climb over a mile of elevation in the next five days. We will then take a day off from walking the Camino to ride a cable car to some of the peaks in the national park and then hike back down. Yes, that means we are hiking on our day off. Imagine that.

    Today’s walk was spectacular, first giving us views of the coastal town we had just left, then up through farms with produce and livestock, including an emu who wanted to eat me. We then walked along a river for miles and miles before finally getting deposited at our first albergue on this route. We are staying with other crazy pilgrims making this journey, sleeping in an attic full of bunk beds, eating the local chickpea stew, salad, and rice pudding at a community meal, and feeling extremely grateful for this incredible opportunity.

    Ultreia et Suseia!    Baca selengkapnya

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