Returning from Spain: An Unexpected Camino Before the Trans Canada Trail

Sailing, Walking, and Preparing to Return to Canada's North

 
When we set out earlier this spring, our plans seemed relatively straightforward. With another season of walking along the Trans Canada Trail ahead of us along the northern route from Whitehorse, Yukon, toward Tuktoyaktuk, Northwest Territories,  we wanted to spend the intervening month getting back into hiking shape while allowing temperatures in Canada's North to warm a little.

 
Our plan was to cross the Atlantic Ocean aboard Windstar Cruises' five-masted sailing yacht, Wind Surf, arriving in Lisbon, Portugal, before travelling by train to northern Spain. From there, we intended to follow the Camino del Norte along Spain's Atlantic coastline toward Santiago de Compostela, combining several weeks of walking with opportunities to explore unfamiliar landscapes, historic communities, and the region's birdlife.
 
Yet, as so often happens when travelling, things ultimately did not go quite as expected.
 

An Atlantic Crossing and an Unexpected Arrival

 
Our voyage aboard Wind Surf began in St. Maarten, in the Caribbean, where we boarded the magnificent sailing yacht for what we anticipated would be a relatively leisurely crossing to Portugal. Having previously crossed the Atlantic aboard Cunard's Queen Mary 2, we were looking forward to experiencing the ocean from a very different vessel, one whose towering masts and sails offered a rather romantic reminder of an earlier era of maritime travel.

 
The crossing proved to be a wonderful experience, filled with long days at sea, changing weather, opportunities to observe marine wildlife, and the extraordinary sense of freedom that comes from travelling slowly between continents.
 
Unfortunately, in addition to the wonder en route, the Atlantic and its storms had other plans for us.  Strong winds and heavy seas required our captain to rightly alter the ship's course, taking us farther south than originally intended. Instead of stopping in the Azores, we visited the Canary Islands, and rather than arriving in Lisbon, we eventually made landfall in Cádiz, on Spain's southern Atlantic coast.

 
Suddenly, our carefully considered plans for hiking the Camino del Norte seemed considerably less practical.  We could of course still have travelled north across Spain to begin the route we had originally intended, but standing in Cádiz with our backpacks and the prospect of adding more days and longer train journeys to our schedule, we began to wonder whether there might be a more interesting alternative.
 
After all, we had crossed an ocean to spend time walking. Did it really matter whether we began on the trail we had planned, or on one that happened to be waiting just beyond the harbour?
And so, somewhat unexpectedly, we decided to follow the Camino north from Cádiz toward Santiago de Compostela.
 

Walking the Via Augusta

 
Our unexpected pilgrimage began along the Via Augusta, a relatively little-known Camino route following the historical Roman corridor between Cádiz and Seville. Over nine days, we travelled through the remarkable landscapes of Andalucía, following pathways, agricultural tracks, canals, roadways and the occasional rather confusing series of yellow arrows toward the beginning of the Via de la Plata.

 
It proved to be a fascinating introduction to southern Spain. Salt marshes and wetlands provided opportunities to observe birds, while agricultural landscapes, historic communities and the remnants of Roman history offered plenty of reasons to stop and explore.  After months away from sustained long-distance hiking, the Via Augusta also gave us an opportunity to readjust to carrying our backpacks every day. We rediscovered the familiar routines of following arrows, finding our way between communities, locating food and accommodation, coping with tired bodies, and appreciating the kindness of strangers.

 
By the time we reached Seville, we were beginning to feel like long-distance walkers again.
What lay ahead, however, would prove considerably more demanding.
 

The Via de la Plata: A Different Kind of Camino

 
From Seville, we continued north along the Via de la Plata, one of Spain's longest and less frequently travelled pilgrimage routes. Passing through Andalucía, Extremadura and Castilla y León, the trail follows ancient roads and rural pathways through a landscape filled with Roman history, agricultural towns, historic cities and vast stretches of open countryside.

 
Over the years, when we had considered this route, we had anticipated that it would be a challenging Camino, but I am not sure we fully appreciated just how demanding it would become.  Unlike the Camino Francés or Portuguese routes we had previously walked, the Via de la Plata offered comparatively few pilgrim services, considerable distances between communities, and a seemingly endless series of logistical uncertainties. Finding food and somewhere to sleep frequently required as much attention as the walking itself – especially as we walked during Easter (Semana Santa)

 
There were wonderful moments, of course. We explored extraordinary historic cities, encountered beautiful landscapes, observed birds and wildlife, and met people whose generosity and encouragement helped us continue. The Roman roads, bridges and monuments provided a remarkable connection to the many generations who had travelled through these regions before us.  Yet this was not always an easy or particularly peaceful pilgrimage. Long days, difficult conditions and unexpected encounters tested our patience and endurance in ways we had not anticipated when we first stepped ashore in Cádiz or set out from Seville.

 
After thousands of kilometres along the Trans Canada Trail, we might have expected that a Camino would seem relatively straightforward. Instead, the Via de la Plata reminded us that experience does not eliminate uncertainty, and that every long-distance route and sometimes every day presents its own challenges.
 

The Camino Sanabrés and the Road to Santiago

 
Eventually, as we approached Granja de Moreruela, we faced another decision. We could continue north toward Astorga and join the Camino Francés, or turn west along the Camino Sanabrés toward Santiago de Compostela. After much debate, and having already followed the Camino Francés on previous pilgrimages, we decided to explore another unfamiliar route.

 
The Camino Sanabrés carried us through increasingly varied landscapes, from open agricultural country into forested hills, river valleys and the greener countryside of Galicia. Along the way, we passed through villages, visited historic churches, and trekked along quiet pathways that felt wonderfully removed from the busiest pilgrimage corridors.

 
Although the difficulties of the preceding weeks had certainly taken their toll, this final portion of our journey offered some of the most beautiful walking of the entire pilgrimage. By the time we reached Santiago de Compostela, we had followed three connected Camino routes across much of Spain, an adventure we had never contemplated when making our original plans to walk the Camino del Norte.  What had begun as an opportunity to regain our fitness before returning to Canada had become a substantial long-distance journey in its own right.
 

Different Trails, Familiar Lessons

 
Looking back, one of the most interesting aspects of this unexpected adventure was how much it reminded us of our years on the Trans Canada Trail. Although the landscapes, histories and walking traditions of Spain are very different from those of Canada, we repeatedly encountered familiar challenges. Routes were not always straightforward, services could be unreliable, weather influenced our progress, and even carefully considered plans occasionally had to be adapted en route or completely abandoned.
 
We were also reminded of the importance of remaining curious about the places through which we travel. Some of our favourite experiences occurred not at the celebrated destinations, but along seemingly ordinary stretches of pathway where we stopped to watch birds, investigate something unfamiliar, or simply appreciate the landscape around us.

 
Perhaps most importantly, the journey reminded us that preparation does not necessarily mean controlling everything that happens along the way. Sometimes it means developing the confidence and willingness to adapt when circumstances change.  We had intended to walk the Camino del Norte. Instead, we discovered three remarkable routes that we might otherwise never have explored.
 
For those interested in following the journey in greater detail, we have separate collections documenting our Atlantic crossing aboard Wind Surf, the Via Augusta from Cádiz to Seville, the Via de la Plata, and the Camino Sanabrés. Each includes our daily experiences, photographs,
wildlife observations and the challenges and discoveries that made these journeys memorable.
 

Returning Our Attention to the Arctic Ocean

 
For now, however, our thoughts are turning once again toward Canada.  Our time in Spain has given us more than a month of sustained walking, the opportunity to regain some of our hiking fitness, and plenty of reminders about the importance of patience and adaptability. As spring gives way to summer and temperatures begin to rise (even in the north), we are looking forward to returning to Whitehorse and continuing the northern portion of our #Hike4Birds along the Trans Canada Trail.
 

There are still enormous distances ahead, including the journey toward Dawson City and the long route north along the Dempster Highway to Tuktoyaktuk. Weather, resupply, road conditions, wildlife and the practical realities of travelling through remote northern landscapes will undoubtedly shape the days, weeks and months ahead.  We have learned enough over the past six years to know that reaching the Arctic Ocean will require more than simply putting one foot in front of the other. Yet after spending much of the spring following ancient pathways across Spain, we are eager to return to the landscapes and communities of Canada to see what’s next.
 
When we left Whitehorse last autumn, the Arctic Ocean still seemed a very long way away. It remains so, but with another season approaching, we are hopeful that this will be the year we finally reach it.  Until then, we are grateful for the unexpected opportunity to cross an ocean under sail, follow three remarkable Caminos, and discover another part of the world at walking speed.
 
The Camino del Norte will have to wait for another day. For now, the Trans Canada Trail is calling us north once again.
 
See you on the trail!