Why Did You Walk the Camino de Santiago More Than Once?

What Makes Someone Want to Walk the Camino de Santiago Again After Finishing Once?

Here's the thing nobody tells you before your first Camino: you don't really finish. You arrive in Santiago de Compostela, you stand in the Praza do Obradoiro, you might cry or laugh or feel strangely numb. And then, weeks or months later, somewhere in the middle of an ordinary Tuesday, you feel it. The pull. A quiet, persistent tug back towards something you can't quite name.

This post is for two kinds of people. If you're considering your first walk, wondering what the Camino de Santiago actually does to a person, this will give you an honest answer. And if you've already walked the Camino and find yourself googling routes at midnight, unable to explain to friends why you'd "do that again," you're not alone. There are many reasons to walk the Camino more than once, and most of them have nothing to do with the destination.

Leslie Gilmour walked the Camino Francés for the first time in June 2013. What started as a plan with a friend became a solo pilgrimage that reshaped how he understood travel, community, and the meaning of enough. He's been back since. So have hundreds of thousands of others. According to the Oficina del Peregrino, over 446,000 pilgrims received the Compostela in 2023, and a significant proportion of those were repeat walkers.

The reasons people walk the Camino de Santiago more than once cluster around a few recurring themes: the quiet transformation that starts on the trail but continues long after, the people you meet, the addictive simplicity of village to village walking, the sensory richness of northern Spain, and the deeper layers of meaning that reveal themselves with each return. There's also a trap worth naming: the temptation to recreate the past, which is a mistake I'll unpack later.

How Did the First Camino in June 2013 Turn Into a Solo Pilgrimage, and Why Was That the Best Decision?

The original plan was simple. Walk with a friend. Split the nerves, share the load, have someone to laugh with over bad wine in Burgos. Then the friend dropped out. And there it was: the blank page, the quiet panic, the question of whether to go at all.

Choosing to go anyway felt reckless at the time. Walking alone for 500 miles across a foreign country with a backpack and a phrase book is not the kind of thing that comes with guarantees. But solo walking on the Camino is different from solo travel almost anywhere else, because you're never really alone for long. The route funnels pilgrims together. You eat breakfast at the same cafés, rest in the same albergues, follow the same yellow arrows through the same sleepy towns. Solitude and company take turns finding you, and you don't have to orchestrate either one.

The pivotal moment came in Saint-Jean-Pied-de-Port, the traditional starting point of the Camino Francés route. That first evening, a communal dinner at a pilgrim hostel. Strangers passing bread and wine around a long table, stumbling through introductions in four languages. By the time the soup arrived, "solo" had already started to dissolve.

What Should First-Timers Know About Walking Solo on the Camino?

Solo doesn't equal lonely on a pilgrimage route this well-trodden. The social rhythm of the Camino creates natural connection points throughout each day:

• Morning café stops, where you'll see the same faces ordering café con leche
• Walking clusters that form and dissolve organically along the trail
• Albergue evenings with shared cooking, washing lines, and the universal ritual of comparing blisters
• Stamp-collecting at churches and hostels, which sparks easy conversation

A realistic note: the Camino is broadly very safe, particularly the Camino Francés, which has the highest volume of walkers. Common sense applies. Keep valuables close, stay aware in cities like Pamplona and Burgos, and trust your instincts about people and places. But the overwhelming experience, for women walking alone and everyone else, is one of warmth and mutual care among fellow pilgrims.

Why Do "Camino Families" Form So Fast, and Why Do They Keep Calling You Back?

A "Camino family" is the group of pilgrims you end up walking with, eating with, and looking out for, not because anyone planned it but because the trail kept putting you in the same place at the same time. It's one of the things that makes the Camino de Santiago pilgrimage genuinely unlike anything else.

Leslie's Camino family started forming from day one out of Saint-Jean-Pied-de-Port. People he met on the Camino during that first week became lifelong friends. Not acquaintances. Not "travel buddies." The kind of people you call when something goes sideways in your life, years later, from a different continent.

Why do these bonds form so fast? A few reasons, and they're worth understanding if you're wondering what draws people back:

Factor	Why It Deepens Connection
Shared physical challenge	Crossing the Pyrenees together on day one, pushing through the Meseta's heat, nursing each other's blisters. Shared hardship bonds people quickly.
Simple daily routine	Walk, eat, rest, sleep. Without the noise of day-to-day life, conversations go deeper faster.
Vulnerability and openness	Something about carrying everything you own in a backpack strips away pretence. People talk honestly on the Camino in ways they rarely do at home.
Repeated run-ins	You separate, you reunite three days later in a small town. These unplanned reunions feel like gifts, and they happen constantly along the Camino.

Returning to the Camino can be about reconnecting with these people, walking a section together again. But it's also about recreating that quality of community without forcing it. New walks bring new people. The spirit doesn't change, even if the faces do. And there's something quietly addictive about entering a world where strangers greet you with "Buen Camino" and mean it.

What's So Transformative About the Camino Compared to Other Travel?

I hesitate to use the word "transformative" without explaining what actually transforms. So let me be specific.

Normal travel, even good travel, can feel like consumption. You see places, you photograph them, you move on. The Camino is participation. The act of walking 20 to 30 kilometres a day, town to town, through changing landscapes and weather, does something to your thinking that a flight and a hotel room simply cannot. The rhythm of it, the repetition, walk, eat, rest, creates mental space that most of us haven't experienced since childhood.

• Mental clarity from repetition: with fewer decisions to make each day, your mind quiets. Problems you've been wrestling with for months sometimes resolve themselves somewhere on the Meseta, without any conscious effort.
• Space for reflection: hours of walking in silence or easy conversation allow a kind of soul-searching that feels organic, not forced.
• Identity and confidence: proving to yourself that you can keep going, day after day, with everything you need on your back, reshapes how you see your own capabilities. You feel competent in a stripped-down life.

Compare this to other long-distance routes. The Appalachian Trail demands wilderness skills. The Kumano Kodo in Japan offers a shorter, more structured experience (and completing both makes you a dual pilgrim, which is a wonderful thing). But the Camino de Santiago occupies a unique middle ground: long enough to change you, supported enough that the physical challenge doesn't overwhelm the inner journey.

What Changes When You Live Day-to-Day With Fewer Decisions?

Less planning. Fewer possessions. Fewer inputs. You don't check the news. You don't scroll. You pay attention to your body, the weather, the people around you, and the place you're in. That's it.

It sounds simple because it is. And simplicity, it turns out, can feel addictive in the best possible way. When you return home, everything feels loud. The Camino whispers. You miss the whispering. That's part of why people walk the Camino de Santiago more than once.

What Does a Typical Day on the Camino Feel Like, and Why Does That Routine Make You Want to Return?

People ask what a day on the Camino is like, and the honest answer is: beautifully monotonous. Here's the loop that hooks you.

Time of Day	What Happens	Why It Matters
Early morning (6:00-7:00)	Wake in the albergue to the sound of rustling sleeping bags and zips. Pack your backpack in the dark. Step outside into cool air.	The world is yours before anyone else claims it.
Morning (7:00-10:00)	Café con leche at the first open bar. Walk through mist or sun, following yellow arrows. Quiet miles.	This is where the thinking happens, or doesn't. Both are fine.
Midday (10:00-13:00)	Pass through small towns. Get your pilgrim passport stamped. Eat tortilla at a bar counter.	Small goals, small rewards. The day has structure without pressure.
Afternoon (13:00-17:00)	Arrive at your destination. Claim a bed. Wash your clothes. Shower. Rest.	The satisfaction of having earned rest through honest effort.
Evening	Shared meal with fellow pilgrims. Wine. Stories. Sleep by 21:00.	Connection, then deep, earned sleep.

The satisfying loop of effort, nourishment, connection, and sleep is something the modern world has largely engineered out of existence. On the Camino, "enough" is obvious. You walked. You ate. You talked. You slept. That's enough. And the comfort factor matters too: this is long-distance hiking with infrastructure. Beds, food, waymarking, towns along the way every few kilometres. You don't need to be a wilderness expert. You need feet and a willingness to use them.

Why Is the Camino So Easy to Plan, and How Does That Lower the Barrier to Going Back?

One reason people walk the Camino more than once is that the logistics are remarkably straightforward, especially compared to other pilgrimage routes or multi-week treks. This is true even for pilgrims travelling from the US or further afield.

• Route marking: the yellow arrows and scallop shell markers on the Camino Francés are so reliable that many pilgrims walk without a guidebook, though carrying one (like John Brierley's guide) adds useful context.
• Frequent towns and lodging: albergues (pilgrim hostels) appear every few kilometres. You can also find private rooms, hostels, and small hotels if you prefer more comfort. Most municipal albergues cost between 6 and 12 euros per night. You can stay in municipal albergues or upgrade as your budget allows.
• Flexible pacing: no need to book everything in advance (except during peak season in July and August). You walk at your own pace, stop when you're tired, and take a rest day when your body asks for one.

What still takes thought: timing and season (spring and autumn are generally best), building some fitness beforehand, and packing light. Budget basics matter too. The Camino can be surprisingly affordable. A pilgrim walking the Camino Francés can spend as little as 30 to 50 euros per day on accommodation, food, and incidentals, according to experienced pilgrims on CaminoDeSantiago.me forums.

And then there's route variety. Even if your first walk was the Camino Francés, the various Camino routes offer completely different experiences. The Camino Portugués starts in Porto and traces the coast or the central route through Portugal. The Camino del Norte follows the rugged coast of Asturias and the Basque Country. The Camino Primitivo is quieter, wilder, and crosses mountainous terrain in Galicia. Each different Camino reveals something new about Spain and Portugal, and about you.

What Do You Experience on Repeat Walks: People, History, and the Sights, Sounds, and Tastes of Spain?

The sensory richness of the Camino doesn't fade with repetition. If anything, it deepens. The first time, you're in survival mode: navigating, managing blisters, worrying about where you'll sleep. The second time, you notice more.

• Food rituals: the pilgrim menu (menú del peregrino) with its reliable three courses and bottle of wine. The tortilla in Estella. The pulpo in Galicia. The way every town smells different depending on what's baking.
• Landscapes: the drama of the Pyrenees crossing on day one, the vast austerity of the Meseta that teaches you patience, the green closeness of Galicia as you walk towards Santiago, eucalyptus and rain on your face.
• Sound: church bells marking the hours. The tap of walking poles on stone. Birdsong at dawn. The botafumeiro swinging in the cathedral in Santiago de Compostela, if you're lucky enough to be there when it flies.

Walking through layers of history is part of what makes the Camino de Santiago special. Medieval bridges in Puente la Reina. The Gothic cathedral in Burgos. Romanesque churches in tiny villages where the door is always open. The UNESCO World Heritage designation of the route recognises something pilgrims feel instinctively: this path connects you to something bigger than yourself, to centuries of people who walked the same stones towards Santiago for their own reasons, religious or spiritual or simply human.

Why doesn't repetition feel redundant? Because you're different each time. New conversations with new fellow pilgrims. Different weather reshaping familiar landscapes. A different inner life meeting the same external path. You notice the things you missed. You linger where you rushed. The Camino is patient enough to let you keep learning from it.

Is It a Mistake to Try to Recreate Your First Camino Experience?

Yes. Mostly. Let me explain.

The most common trap for returning pilgrims is chasing the exact same magic. You want the same Camino family, the same weather, the same moment of clarity on the Meseta, the same feeling of walking into the Praza do Obradoiro for the first time. But the Camino doesn't work that way. It's not a recording you can replay. It's a living thing, and it meets you where you are, not where you were.

The healthier reframe: return to the practice, not the storyline. The practice is walking. The practice is openness. The practice is carrying less, noticing more, letting strangers become important to you. That's what you loved the first time, even if your memory has attached it to specific people and places.

Practical mindset tips for a second Camino:

• Set intentions, not expectations. "I want to walk slowly and notice more" is an intention. "I want to feel exactly like I felt in 2013" is a setup for disappointment.
• Stay flexible about pace, companions, and daily plans. The Camino rewards those who hold plans loosely.
• Consider a different route. Walking the Camino Portugués or the Camino del Norte sidesteps the comparison problem entirely and gives you a fresh journey to Santiago de Compostela.
• Remember that the purpose for walking doesn't have to be dramatic. "I want to walk and think and eat well" is reason enough.

Sometimes the best second Camino is the one you stop trying to control.

Frequently Asked Questions

Is the Camino only for religious people, or do you have to be Christian?

No. While the Camino de Santiago is historically a Christian pilgrimage to the shrine of the Apostle Saint James, today's pilgrims walk for all kinds of reasons. According to the Oficina del Peregrino, pilgrims cite religious reasons, spiritual (but not religious) reasons, and purely cultural or athletic motivations. The traditions are Catholic in origin, the pilgrim mass in Santiago is moving regardless of your beliefs, and the path welcomes everyone. You don't need to speak Spanish or Portuguese to hike the Camino, and you don't need to be anything other than willing to walk.

How much time do I need to walk the Camino Francés?

Most pilgrims complete the Camino Francés in 30 to 35 days, covering roughly 800 kilometers (about 500 miles) from Saint-Jean-Pied-de-Port to Santiago de Compostela. Some walk faster, some slower. Many people choose to walk a section rather than the full route, particularly if time is limited. The last 100 kilometres from Sarria is the minimum distance required to receive the Compostela certificate, which is why many pilgrims start there.

Do I need a lot of hiking experience or a certain fitness level?

You don't need to be an athlete, but the Camino is a physical challenge that rewards preparation. Walking 20 to 25 kilometres a day for weeks requires a baseline level of fitness. The most useful training is simply walking regularly with your backpack loaded to the weight you'll carry. Listen to your body on the trail, take a rest day when you need one, and pace yourself. The Camino is not a race. Most Camino pilgrims find their rhythm within the first week.

Is it safe to walk the Camino alone?

The Camino de Santiago is widely regarded as one of the safest long-distance walking routes in the world. It's enormously popular with solo travellers, including women walking alone. The route passes through towns and villages frequently, other pilgrims are always nearby, and the infrastructure of albergues and hostels creates a built-in support network. Standard travel safety applies: keep valuables secure, stay aware of your surroundings, and trust your instincts.

What's the biggest reason people come back a second time?

It's rarely just one thing. The most common reasons people walk the Camino more than once are the depth of community formed with fellow pilgrims, the addictive simplicity of the daily routine, the sense of meaning and perspective gained through the act of walking, and unfinished inner work that the first walk started but didn't complete. Many returning pilgrims also want to explore different Camino routes. The Camino has a way of leaving you with questions you didn't know you were asking, and walking again is how you sit with them a little longer.

How Can Camino Adventures Help You Plan Your First (or Next) Camino?

If you feel the pull, whether it's your first walk or your fifth, Camino Adventures exists to help you begin your Camino with confidence.

• Explore Camino stories, route guides, and planning resources across the site
• Browse detailed information on routes like the Camino Francés, Camino Portugués, and Camino del Norte
• Find practical guidance on packing, budgeting, fitness, and choosing the right season

Leslie's experience taught him something worth passing on: sometimes the best decision is simply to start. Even if you start alone. Especially if you start alone. The Camino has a way of filling in the blanks for you, one yellow arrow at a time.