Beginning the Camino de San Salvador

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Setting off on a pilgrimage is a very particular experience, completely different from a typical beach or mountain holiday. First and foremost, your outfit speaks for itself, though clothes don't make the pilgrim.

But the enormous backpack you carry on your shoulders will be unmistakable proof to those who see you that you're about to embark on a singular journey, one that most of them have never undertaken.

You become an object of curiosity, and naturally you'll feel the urge to share this adventure with others. Because setting out with a backpack always requires considerable preparation, expectations and excitement, and it's perfectly natural to want to talk about something you love doing and that makes you happy.

This morning, as we departed from Bergamo airport, we felt exactly that way—excited and thrilled about this new adventure.

Today's plan was straightforward: arrival in Madrid, a stop at Plaza del Sol for a jamón serrano sandwich, Estación Sur and a coach to León. What looked like a relaxed itinerary on paper turned out to be rather demanding with all those hours of sitting.

On the bright side, we managed to catch glimpses from the window of parts of Spain we'd never seen before—a stunning corner of nature that made us fall in love with this land even more. We arrived in León bang on schedule! Alsa and their coaches are truly fantastic: not only is there a bathroom on board, but the seats are comfortable, wifi is free and fast, and there's a touchscreen for every seat. Simply brilliant!

Credential, hostel, registration—and we can officially call ourselves pilgrims. The only drawback—though I'm not sure that's the right word—is that we still struggle to feel truly at ease.

Not that we're newcomers to this world—we completed a pilgrimage two years ago—but we feel genuinely out of place, caught in a kind of limbo, suspended between tourist and pilgrim.

This "approach" to the Way is proving complicated! Perhaps we still feel alone, in a world apart from those who reached their destination on foot today. Because after all, the only thing that matters is the road, and the people you walk it with.

We feel excluded, distant—aware spectators who haven't yet taken that crucial next step. A group that isn't theirs, that doesn't feel like theirs because they know in their bones what it means to reach a destination through the effort of their own legs. It's almost paradoxical to think of a community usually so open and willing to help one another and offer mutual support, yet based not on inclusion but on the exclusion of those who are different.

You can spot pilgrims from a distance by their characteristic dress—comfortable clothes for those wanting to relax and enjoy a beer at the bar—by their tired smiles, by broken words spoken in a language that doesn't exist, invented on the spot to make themselves understood to a fellow foreign pilgrim. English, Spanish or alien! It's a group where you're either in or you're out, with no middle ground!!

For us who start tomorrow, this sense of otherness remains. Perhaps sharing breakfast, leaving the hostel together, or walking side by side—even just a hundred metres—will finally make us feel like we belong to them!

All we need is to feel like pilgrims!!

Go to Stage 1 〉

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