The Camino is a pilgrimage, always has been. It used to be more for religious types, now millions of people do it for all kinds of reasons: to forget, to remember, for the sake of getting quiet, and simple: to shut down all the noise and voices and static and just be for awhile, without interruption, or pressure, or price. If you decide to go it alone, you won’t be lonely. There are friends to be made all along the way: if you go with friends or family, you will fight and you will laugh and most definitely end up closer than you’ve ever been before.
"Every person that walks this road changes it, adds to it, builds it's lore"
Imagine it. Every day, you get up, lace up your shoes, hoist your pack or paniers, grab a bite and the strongest coffee you can find, and start moving. Set yourself a goal: 15, 20, 50 miles a day. The landscape is vast, stretching out before you. You will walk these big open expanses, where you can spot the storm clouds from miles away. But you will also traverse meadows, large cities, and small cobblestoned villages where nary a soul is seen from siesta till dinnertime. We cycled up and down the Italian alps, through endless and poorly lit tunnels at the edges of major cities, through rain storms, mist and haze. We took wrong turns and right turns, did endless tire repairs, but most often, eventually made it to one hostel or another to bunk up for some rest.
The body hurts, the feet get sore, but slowly you become a kind of warrior. You press on. There is a great camaraderie on the Camino – you will meet people from all walks of life. We drank, ate, and shared stories with strangers who became friends.
When we got back to San Jose, we didn’t want it all to end. We knew we could overcome any obstacle, and made our dream of a brewery come true.