Whilst walking from Arles to Spain, I received several Instagram messages from prospective pilgrims asking me to share my thoughts about camping on the Camino de Santiago. Initially, I planned to camp most of the Way but, as with all the things that I initially planned, they went a little different and I ended up shipping my tent back home as soon as I got to Spain. For all of you who are thinking about bringing a tent – and yes, I know some of you do as I’m aware of the endless forum threads regarding this topic – here are some questions I reckon you should ask yourself first.

do I want to save money?

Camping on the Camino doesn’t necessarily help you save heaps of money. Unless you want to free camp of course; a choice I hold an opinion on which I’ll share a little while later in this post. Furthermore, a distinction must be made between pilgrims who start their Camino in the Netherlands, those starting on the more popular French routes and those walking the Camino del Norte.

If you are commencing your journey in the Netherlands, taking your tent might aid financially as accommodation is sparse and expensive here as well as in Belgium and the North of France. Do consider departing in a period where temperatures at night are above zero and, in case they don’t, pack gear appropriate for these circumstances.

When starting on the Via Tolosana however, and I think this applies to most of the French routes, it depends whether bringing your camping gear will make a financial difference. Although I’ve heard the gîtes on the Via Tolosana are slightly more expensive than those on the Le Puy and Vézelay route, you’ll be spending between €10-20 for a bed often including breakfast. A pitch at a campsite varies between €10-15. That could save you a little bit, but frequently there are no campsites at all or they’re not on route. This means you’ll have to sleep in a gîte anyway or detour from the route and walk back to it the next morning. If you don’t care walking the extra k’s or figuring out your own route, by all means take a tent; it might save you some cash. If you prefer following the waymarks and remain on the GR653, leave your tent. Even though I’ve pitched my tent on some beautiful spots, I didn’t like diverging from the GR all the time as it was such a beautiful route!

Walking the Camino del Norte? Forget about the tent. There are tons of albergues on route with prices ranging from €6-20. You’ll be spoilt for choice.

Even if you decide to leave your tent at home, you can still save some money! Make your own breakfast and bring things with you for lunch. Most of the gîtes in France have an equipped kitchen, so you can cook up a delicious dinner. In Spain, however, you’ll sometimes encounter unequipped kitchens, which makes cooking a little more challenging. Keep in mind that eating out and buying fresh produce in Spain is generally way cheaper than it is in France.

900x600-why you should

am I willing to carry the extra weight?

If you decide to camp, you’ll not just bring your tent. You will also need a mat, a sleeping bag, cooking gear, some other bits and pieces… BAM! That’s another three or four kilograms extra you’ll be carrying on your back. Oh that’s ok! Yeah, I thought so too and then I had to walk with it every day. Be wise, think again. Do you really want to make it more difficult for yourself?

why am I walking?

You’ve been walking for weeks on your own, you finally encounter other pilgrims (hooray!), they’re amazing, you walk together all day and then you have to say goodbye to them because you’re going off route to walk to a campsite. When this happened to me I was quite upset. I didn’t want to say goodbye! Stubborn as I am, I went to the campsite anyway because that’s what I told myself I would do! Things change. Your opinion on things might change. That’s OK! You don’t have to sit on your own in a tent four kilometres from the Camino route, even if that is what you decided you’d do in the first place. Eventually, I ended up realising I loved (!) being around people after a day of walking and that if I wanted some time for myself I could take those moments too in a gîte or albergue! I’ll be honest though, figuring this out took me about two months walking. Ask yourself why you’re walking? If you find that meeting other pilgrims is an essential part of your pilgrimage, bringing a tent won’t make you a happy camper!

a little note on wild camping

I haven’t been wild camping. Why not? To be honest, I didn’t feel comfortable pitching my tent in the middle of nowhere. When overthinking this possibility, I saw myself running away being chased by a violent French farmer with a big shotgun. Apart from that, the idea of taking a dump in the forest probably was the deciding factor not to. This, however, wouldn’tt be an issue anymore as I’ve had the pleasure of walking 32 kilometres with a bowel on steroids. Talking to one of my Camino mates, he made a valid point about wild camping. For those people that run a gîte or albergue on the Camino, hosting you provides them with an income. It’s their life. They’re the people that make the Camino possible for all those longing to be a pilgrim. If all of us would take a tent and camp for free, I think we forget to acknowledge something that is such a beautiful part of this pilgrimage: connecting to one another.

In case you are thinking about bringing your camping gear, I ask you to think again. For me personally, the freedom I thought I’d experience by bringing a tent ended up restricting me. Bringing a tent does not necessarily add to your Camino experience, it makes for a different experience. Choose wisely!




And then you are back home. Like a character taken from one novel and placed into another narrative. One you recognise, though uncertain about the details. I remember opening my door, stepping inside my house and being overwhelmed by a feeling of completion: the circle was complete, I returned where I started. The actual journey had come to an end; however, the unease and discomfort that followed marked a new beginning. I knew immediately it was not going to be easy to return to that which I had departed from.

First came the excitement. Finally! No plastic mattresses and no throw away covers that attach themselves to you body during the night. My toilet! I almost hugged my toilet. (I restrained myself though as I realised that would have been a rather strange thing to do.) But the joy I experienced knowing I no longer had to take a dump on a different toilet every day, was out of this world. Taking hot showers, buying food and keeping it in the fridge, washing my clothes longer than the 30 minute quick cycle, rolling out my yoga mat and do yoga whenever I want, wearing ACTUAL clothes, meeting up with all my friends… the list of things that made me super excited about being back home goes on and on.

Unfortunately, the initial excitement didn’t last very long. After a few days, I started to intensely miss being on the road. Getting up early, being on the way, being outside and physically active all day, the rhythm, and, most importantly, the feeling of quiet/peace/space it gave me. Everything had been moving all this time and now it had all stopped. The feeling of standing still made me anxious and irritated. For 3,5 months I was heading somewhere, I had a destination and the movement towards that – in this case – physical location allowed me to open up and work with myself. Returning home, the movement that became so important to me remained absent due to the lack of direction.

So today I asked myself: Where do you want to go? I guess this question calls for for a mini-pilgrimage. It’s time to figure out which direction will be next.



The first 21 days of my Camino de Santiago have passed and I can tell you, it didn’t go quite as I had expected. After a very cold start, my body started to disagree with me just a few days into my journey. Some extra stops made it little better, so I decided to buy a bike (Barry <3) and cycle a bit until my knee would be happy again.

Unexpected stuff happens, just roll with it! At least, that is what I thought.

In all honesty, I think I am more suited to endure the scorching heat Islamic pilgrims face when performing the Hajj, than I am to temperatures below zero, snow or overcast skies. After three days of cycling I had a full-blown winter depression and was hating every single minute of this pilgrimage (ok, that might be exaggerated but I started to develop very unpleasant thoughts).

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t mind the challenges. Getting stuck in the mud, getting lost, doing another 10k, I can handle it. But the past days I did not enjoy cycling as much as have loved the walking. Likewise, although I am very much grateful for the hospitality of my host families, the fathers at the Abbey, the B&Bs and hotels I have slept in. My heart lies with sleeping in my tent, waking up with the sun and being one with nature. That makes me feel independent or free. A state I was perhaps unknowingly chasing and, up until now, haven’t found myself in often.

Yes. In light of my plans to camp, we can all conclude that I have left a month too early. But if I had known everything beforehand it would not have been much fun either, now would it? When looking at the weather forecast in Europe (indeed, I thought I would just hang out somewhere warm before continuing my pilgrimage), the south of France caught my eye as the minimum temperatures there are above 0 degrees. I remembered something about a Camino route starting there and had a look. It was at this moment I remembered the proverb: “if the mountain won’t come to Muhammad, then Muhammad must go to the mountain”. Hello Via Tolosana!

Starting in Arles, the Via Tolosana or Chemin d’Arles, is one of the four French routes to Santiago. It also functions as a pilgrimage route to Rome, going in the opposite direction. From what I have read it is beautiful route, though it can be tough at times. Furthermore, the Via Tolosana is less popular than the other French routes, so I don’t have to expect masses of fellow pilgrims. The knee is doing better, so looking heaps forward to walking again. There is only one problem: most campsites in the south of France will open from the first of April onwards, so I’ll have to find a solution for that…

I wanted to experience what is was like to be a pilgrim, what would happen when I’d dive into the unknown. Reaching certain conclusions, making decisions and, perhaps most important, listening to myself… it’s all happening. Guess when you cannot be the pilgrim you want to be, why be one at all.



Tomorrow is the day I have been waiting for a very long time, though it seems to have come around way too soon! Words cannot even describe the state I am currently finding myself in. My mood is changing from ecstatically happy to extremely frightened and I am frantically running around trying to get everything sorted for this journey that, all of a sudden, will commence in less than 24 hours.

The past weeks I have been thinking about how I will keep my blog going, as I will not take my laptop with me. Last Monday I decided that I will communicate all the happenings of my Camino de Santiago doing something I will never get enough of: talking! Although chatting to no one in particular felt rather odd at first, I guess it will be a good way to feel slightly less alone on my journey ; )

Still have to cross many things off the list, so I am out of here! If you would like to follow my journey, do not forget to subscribe to my YouTube channel.

Talk to you soon!




It had been a rough week. My grandmother fell and ended up in the hospital. My mother was abroad to help my little brother settle into a city he will be calling home for the upcoming months and could not get back as soon as she wished to. I did what anyone else would have done and tried to be best granddaughter I could be. Home after a few days of going in and out of the hospital, I caught myself desperately trying to figure out why.

Why on earth do I want to walk the Camino de Santiago?

I am not particularly dying to see James’ relics or exceptionally eager to acquire a certificate stating I walked 100 kilometres. Neither do I solely want to figure out whether my body can cope walking the entire way, nor do I want to show my friends that I can actually read a map. So why then, do I wish to undertake this journey?

Interestingly enough, not many people have asked me why. When they do, I often said, “Because I can.” or “Why not?” Truth is I have always had a peculiar admiration for pilgrims. Without hesitation they physically remove themselves from their surroundings to venture off into the unknown. This act of distancing themselves from their daily lives, which could be regarded as a representation of someone’s current being, provides mental space to observe these selves – with or without reference to a religious tradition. Often, during the pilgrimage or upon return, these people report to have acquired certain inspiration or insights, at times resulting in some sort of personal transformation.

Every time I have read or performed research on pilgrims, their journeys and the effects of these journeys, the urge to experience such undertaking myself grew stronger. So, the answer to the question why do I want to walk the Camino de Santiago is actually rather simple. The experience itself is my motivation; I am dying to find out what will happen to me once I surrender to being a pilgrim and I am on my way to Santiago. Perhaps pursuing something I might not be aware of yet.