Camino Reflections Week One: Basking in Basque
Day 1 - 828 Kilometers to Santiago
In the spring of 2024, I walked the Camino del Norte, a 828-kilometer stretch of coastline, winding trails, sunshine, and rain (so much rain), all accompanied by pure, unfiltered joy. The kind of joy that makes you grateful for everything, even the moments that sucked. For five weeks, I followed yellow arrows and ancient paths, met strangers who became family, and cried more tears than I could count - most of them from the sheer beauty of being alive, and many of them from releasing pain I hadn’t realized I was still carrying.
Each day, I shared short updates on Facebook, capturing small slices of the trail life and photo after photo of that ever-changing path.
Now, as I prepare to lead a group walk along the Portuguese Camino this September, I’m returning to that journey with fresh eyes and a full heart.
Over the next five weeks, I’ll be sharing reflections, not just retelling, but a glimpse into the soul of the Camino—a quiet invitation for those who feel the call to take a different kind of step.
Whether you followed my steps last year or are just discovering this path, I hope these reflections meet you in the right moment and stir something wild.
Day 1: Irún to San Sebastián – 25 km
April 15, 2024
Despite the rain, or maybe because of it, the trail felt familiar. Mist clinging to the trees, mud underfoot, the quiet joy of putting one foot in front of the other. It reminded me of hiking in British Columbia, and I felt at home.
Only halfway through the day, I got off the ferry and confidently turned left instead of right. I lost the markers and wandered off the trail, eventually weaving my way through backyards on the edge of a small village, then climbing straight up the side of a very steep hill, no trail, no signs, just stubborn determination and grit.
Eventually, I found my way back to the trail, and I was silently proud of myself. And truthfully, a little concerned that maybe I hadn’t prepared myself as well as I should have. Nonetheless, feeling quite happy with myself for finding the trial again, and then it happened. I was so excited to see San Sebastian, knowing that my first day was almost done, I stopped to film myself and capture the moment, only to turn my ankle, fall, drop my phone, and fall flat on my ass. Video proof is posted below. My sprained ankle was very swollen, and miraculously, it hurt only when it happened. It stayed swollen for the entire 5 weeks, a daily reminder to take care and respect the trail.
And so began my Camino.
The Foot Ferry in Pasajes de San Juan / Pasai Donibane
Day 2: Rest Day in San Sebastián / Donostia – 16 km of wandering
April 16, 2024
It was supposed to be a rest day. Instead, it turned into a walking feast. I covered 16 km, exploring cobbled streets, seaside promenades, and history, and followed my curiosity, as well as the insanely delicious scents wafting out of every pintxos taberna, all over San Sebastian. This city doesn’t whisper. It seduces. With every bite, every vista, every turn of the corner to markets, squares, beaches, and more than a few pintxos, I was mesmerized. I came to explore and I was not disappointed.
Santa Clara Island in Bahia de la Concha / La Concha Bay
A Basque delight! Tarta de Queso Vasca / Gazta Tarta / Burnt Basque Cheesecake. Soft, creamy, heaven!
Day 3: San Sebastián to Zarautz – 24 km
April 17, 2025
Rain, wind, sun. Leaving San Sebastián was bittersweet. Walking out of town towards the sea and along the beach, I met new pilgrims along the way, people who would walk by my side until we reached Bilboa. Arriving in Zarautz, the sun came out to play. The beach was warm, surfers dotted the waves and I rested seaside with more delicious pintxos and a lovey glass of local wine. The sea inspires me. I'm grateful for my health and legs that carry me.
My walk out of San Sebastian, early morning, and all is quiet.
The beachfront at Plaza Cervantes
My first Camino Family 💖
Ready for action
Day 4: Zurautz to Deba – 28 km
April 18, 2024
Today was hard — and breathtaking. The terrain was challenging, but the views made every steep climb worthwhile. The trail from Zarautz to Deba followed the paved road, so I cheerfully suggested to my new family that we take a variant along the coast. It was stunning. We walked through a living fossil bed, past cliffs that sliced into the sea, where layers of time were laid bare. We thought we had lost our way, but what we found that day will stay with me forever. My traveling companions agreed; it was tough, but worth it, after they recovered from the day's challenge. We arrived late and exhausted. Our lovely host had cold beer and warm smiles. It was a day you could only have on the Camino.
We lost the official trail, my fault, I wanted to wander to the sea. The views were worth every minute we were off course.
UNESCO Global Geopark on the Basque Coast.
The biggest challenge of the day? A peaceful pause in a steep hillside field, high above the rocky shoreline. We were down to the last of our water, off track and sun-warmed, trying to make sense of the map and the moment. Then, a low thunder rolled down the slope. Cows. Dozens of them. Stampeding straight toward us. There was no time to run, and nowhere to run to. Behind us, rocky cliffs. Below us, the sea. As we braced ourselves for the hoof stomping finale, a truck appeared. The farmer. It was dinnertime. We forgot we were lost. We forgot the miles still ahead and the lack of water. All was well. Laughter spilled out of us, echoing across the hillside. And behind the wheel of that truck, a puzzled farmer wondered, What could be that funny?
The UNESCO Global Geopark - Geoparque de la Costa Vasca (Basque Coast Geopark) is more stunning than the pictures can display.
For me - this is exactly what the walk is ALL about, these amazing views. My heart was soaring, my spirit was free.
Day 5: Deba to Markina – 28 km
April 19, 2024
We turned inland, leaving the sea behind. The mountains rose around us — lush, steep, stunning. We landed in a green valley, in a 16th-century farmhouse. My body was tired. My soul? Buzzing.
Leaving the sea behind.
Old farmhouses and an abundance of Calla Lilies. All along the trail, there were moments of visual beauty welcoming you to be present and smell the flowers.
Friendships are built with ease, and you realize how very alike we all are.
Day 6: Markina-Xemein to Gernika-Lumo – 28 km
April 20, 2024
Following a clear, rocky bottomed river through farmland stitched with wildflowers, past stone built barns and fields that breathed spring. Dogs watched from doorways while sheep and goats grazed in the green fields.. By the time we reached Gernika, a bocadillo de tortilla and a glass of red wine tasted like a blessing. And a soft bed, a throne for my aching legs. Rest never felt so holy.
The Artibai River leading into the Lea River valley
Feeling the sun healing the soul.
Bocadillo de Tortilla, heaven in your mouth!
A sunny stop on the way Gernika, pilgrims gather over coffee midday.
Day 7: Gernika to Bilbao – 18 km + train
April 21, 2024
A morning of ups and downs — literally. We climbed and descended, again and again and again, legs tightening, breath steadying, until the rhythm became its own kind of meditation. The final stretch into Bilbao turned industrial. Long pavement, traffic snarling beside us, the romance of the Camino was briefly interrupted. Steep stone steps dropped us into a suburb, and with he city sprawling ahead, we caught a short train for the last few kilometers. Bilbao greeted me like a heartbeat, alive, creative, and unmistakably itself. My father had spoken of its wonder. Perhaps his reverence shaped my own. We arrived under blue skies, heavy with fast moving clouds. It was cold and clear for the moment. Bilbao shimmered, cool and modern, yet humming with something ancient beneath its surface. Here, I will rest for one day. Always exploring. Always seeking… Bilbao did not disappoint,
Bilbao
The Nervion River, Bilbao
San Francisco, Bilbao.
The Guggenheim and four very happy (and cold!) Pilgrims.
The Guggenheim Museum
Puppy by Jeff Kroons, built in 1992 and installed in 1997, is a beautiful living sculpture of a Westie. The scale and size are impressive.
Patatas a lo Pobre con Huevo. Poor man’s potatoes with Egg.
Reflection
The Camino began, not with a bang but with mist, mud, and the quiet thrill of setting out into the unknown.
Awe, exhaustion, beauty, surrender, excitement, and connection, those were the themes etched into the soles of my boots. I laughed, I limped, I learned. I walked beside strangers who felt familiar and met parts of myself I'd forgotten. With each step, something softened. The freedom was intoxicating. The simple pleasure of having nothing but the road ahead, long days of walking, wandering, and listening, was precisely what my soul needed. No inbox, no obligations, no airports. The independence and freedom I felt spilled from my feet in bursts of joyful movement. This week was a beginning, not just of a walk but of something wilder. Something deeper. This is where the path of the wild heart truly began.
🎥 Bonus Moment
Watch the video of me (posted below) stumbling into San Sebastián — phone flying and heart wide open. It was a humbling end to my first day.
This September, I’m Guiding Others
And this fall, I won’t repeat that fall. I’m walking a different path, shorter and a little easier. This time, I’ll be guiding a small group on a 12-day journey along the Portuguese coast.
It won’t be exactly the same trail, but the essence? Presence, purpose, connection. The wild heart way.
A perfect first day - until I proudly (and stupidly) filmed myself, not looking where I am walking. Oops! Lesson one from the Camino: Stay present, or the trail will teach you.
