You are going to walk across Spain. On foot. Carrying everything you need on your back. Sleeping in shared dormitories. Wearing the same two outfits for weeks. Eating whatever is available. Enduring blisters, sore muscles, and the occasional snorer who could shake the walls of a medieval albergue.

Sounds crazy, right?

And yet, thousands of people do it every year. Not just hikers or seasoned backpackers, but retirees, students, accountants, teachers, artists, and people who have never set foot on a trail before. The Camino de Santiago has a pull unlike any other journey in the world. And once you hear about it, once it plants itself in your mind, it’s only a matter of time before you find yourself booking a flight, lacing up your shoes, and stepping onto that first dusty path.

But why? Why do people do this?

The Many Reasons to Walk

Some come for adventure. Some for history. Some for faith. Others, simply because they saw “The Way” with Martin Sheen and thought, Hey, that looks fun!

The truth is, there’s no single reason to walk the Camino—there are thousands. Some pilgrims are processing grief, heartbreak, or a major life transition. Some are seeking clarity or purpose. Others just want an extended break from emails, traffic, and the never-ending scroll of modern life.

The beauty of the Camino is that no matter why you start, the journey has a way of shifting and surprising you. What begins as a physical challenge soon becomes a lesson in patience. What starts as a quest for solitude turns into an unexpected festival of friendships. And sometimes, the moment you stop looking for answers, you find exactly what you needed.

The Pull of History

The Camino is old—very old. For over a thousand years, people have followed these same routes toward Santiago de Compostela, where the remains of St. James are said to be buried. Before that, ancient Celtic and Roman roads traced the same paths, leading travelers toward the westernmost edge of the known world.

There’s something humbling about walking in those footsteps, knowing that for centuries, people from all backgrounds—medieval peasants, noble knights, monks, merchants, misfits—have made this same journey. Some carried relics, some carried sins, some carried nothing at all. But all of them walked, just like you will.

A Different Kind of Travel

The Camino is not a vacation. It is not a resort getaway. You will not be sipping cocktails by the beach (unless, of course, you detour to Finisterre, which I highly recommend).

Instead, you’ll wake up early, lace up your boots, and walk. Every day, a new town. Every night, a new bed. Some days will be easy, filled with laughter and sunshine. Others will test your patience, with sore feet, endless hills, and the nagging question of Why did I think this was a good idea?

But along the way, something shifts. The clutter of everyday life falls away. The rhythm of walking becomes meditative. And you start noticing things—how the morning mist hangs over the fields, how a stranger’s kindness can feel like a miracle, how a simple meal after a long walk tastes like the best thing you’ve ever eaten.

The Camino Changes You

Ask any pilgrim, and they’ll tell you: the Camino stays with you. It gets under your skin. Long after you’ve returned home, unpacked your bag, and soaked your weary feet, the memories will linger.

Maybe it’s the people you met—the Dutch retiree who had the best stories, the Korean student who shared their last granola bar, the Spanish hospitalero who greeted every pilgrim with a warm smile. Maybe it’s the simplicity—how little you needed to be happy, how light you felt without the weight of daily worries. Maybe it’s the realization that, for a while, you were part of something bigger than yourself—a pilgrimage that has stretched across centuries.

And maybe, just maybe, you’ll start planning your next Camino before the dust has even settled on your boots.

Because if there’s one thing I know for sure, it’s this: the Camino calls. And when it does, you go.