If you’ve heard of the Camino de Santiago, you’ll likely be aware of how inspiring those who have experienced it claim it to be. This network of pilgrimage routes attracts millions of walkers each year, making it one of the most popular in the world. Despite only having the time to hike the first seven days, it quickly became clear to me why it holds such an positive reputation.

I took on this week of hiking with my mum, who is used to long walks with the family Cocker Spaniel, arguably not for seven days straight at around 25 kilometers per day (although probably not far off). We decided to commit to The French Way, beginning in early June at Saint-Jean-Pied-de-Port, a stunning medieval town located at the foot of the Pyrenees in the French Basque Country.

Entering Saint-Jean-Pied-de-Port…

Start: Arrival day, late afternoon.

Making our way into Saint-Jean-Pied-de-Port after spending the majority of the day on trains was a welcome sight; strolling into the town felt like jumping into a storybook, with its cobbled paths, beautiful old buildings complemented by red shutters, and the iconic river and bridges that I’d been eager to photograph for weeks. As we made our way towards the hostels alongside several other pilgrims, the atmosphere was already a perfect mixture of peaceful and excited anticipation.

We spent our first free day exploring the area and taking lucky dips with French menus to load up for the trek across the Pyrenees the following morning. A group of volunteers helped us sort out our credential booklets, which we’d need to get stamped at every stop along the way. They gave us shells for our backpacks and information on the steep ascent that awaited us.

Day 1: Saint-Jean-Pied-de-Port – Roncesvalles

Start: 7 AM, cool and clear

Highlighted as one of the most challenging days of the route, the journey over the Pyrenees promised tough climbs and expansive views over French farmland. It did not disappoint.

The first section of our walk followed roads through quiet farms and hills that only got more steep. The higher we climbed, the more picturesque the land below seemed to be. The first café stop was the most striking — we sat on a deck that overlooked the crisp morning view, sipping orange juice and working our way through the cereal bar selection we'd carefully assembled.

Fed, hydrated and raring to see more, we soon got back onto the trail to face the next climb. It became apparent that we'd be reusing the phrase "Bon Chemin" or "Buen Camino" for the remainder of our time walking. At this point, each face we saw was a new one, but in the days to come, we'd have shared plenty of conversations.

Reaching what felt like the top of the mountain (it most definitely was not) felt exhilarating. Suddenly, our ears were filled with echoes of cowbells, and livestock seemingly emerged from nowhere. The wind was strong, and above us circled majestic birds of prey that I later identified as Bearded Vultures and Griffon Vultures — the latter staring us down as we passed the rocks they perched on.

The next hour was spent gazing at the surrounding landscape in awe and taking photos of fellow walkers who wanted to freeze these sights just as much as we did. A scramble up yet another steep rocky path left us breathless at the highest point of our journey. From here, it was mostly downhill.

On our first little descent through a woodland valley, we came across some farmers leading a herd of cattle to a new field. My mum, who is terrified of cows, desperately threw herself up the bankside and hid behind a tree while the stampede made its way past us, jingling their bells and mooing in gratitude.

From there, we spent another hour following the trail, seeing barely anyone until the next signpost that had the group in front of us stumped. There was a shorter route, one that supposedly was the steeper way down to Roncesvalles, or there was a route that was roughly 1 km longer. We had previously been advised to take the longer route, though this caused a stir amongst the other walkers, who quite understandably just wanted to reach the albergues and rest.

Despite taking the longer route, we were met with a view of the upcoming village, a dense forest, and a lone bull chilling in his field.

Arrival: Finally, we reached Roncesvalles. We collected our stamps from the wrong hostel (oops), then found the correct one and collapsed onto our beds before using the last ounces of our energy to consume some local red wine and a three-course pilgrim meal. Day one complete.

Day 2: Roncesvalles – Zubiri

Start: Around 7 AM, mild and breezy

Today’s trail rolled through peaceful woodland and quiet villages. We stopped for orange juice in a café next to an impressive church in Aurizberri/Espinal, then wandered through more farmland where we befriended a dog and watched horses grazing. The next stretch took us into the trees for some much-needed shade, and by late morning, we’d reached Bizkarreta-Gerendiain. Here, we stopped for snacks and tried local beer at El Dragón Peregrino alongside all the other hungry hikers. On the way out, a golden retriever trotted up to us and claimed us as his new owners, so naturally, we had to take another break and keep him company for a while. The rest of the path flowed up and down through more woodland, stopping briefly here and there to eat the apples we took from breakfast and soak up more hilly views.

Arrival: Entering Zubiri was peaceful, walking over its medieval bridge and spotting people cooling off in the stream below. We ate dinner with a group of French ladies and another group from California. Before bed, we sat in the local church and listened to the choir sing hymns (and get shouted at by their conductor).

Day 3: Zubiri – Pamplona

Start: 7 AM, warmer and sunny

On this morning, we stomped quickly through shady paths, hoping to reach the first café stop in good time. The stop turned out to be a rural hostel in Zuriain, where a couple of local men created a beautiful ambience of classical Spanish guitar music. We ordered our Camino favourite, Orangina, and relaxed for a while before setting off again. Next on our trail came steep hills under the hottest sun yet. This part felt endless, but reaching a viewpoint over Villava gave us a second wind and the motivation to reach Pamplona. A few more dogs crossed our path which also helped. A wrong turn landed us on the road route (meant for cyclists) which added a few unnecessary kilometres, but we eventually realised our mistake, found our way back to the riverside, and entered the city through its magnificent gated entrance.

Arrival: The energy of Pamplona hit us immediately — loud live music and crowds flooding the streets outside of bustling bars, and worn out pilgrims weaving through it all to reach their rest spots. Tonight's dinner was quieter — most of the afternoon was spent on a hunt for a pharmacy since I had a bad eczema flare-up. Inconvenient.

Day 4: Pamplona – Puente la Reina

Start: 7 AM, warmer and drier

Leaving the city behind, we wandered through gentle hills towards Alto del Perdón, where wind turbines and metal pilgrim statues marked a significant checkpoint in the journey. The view was spectacular, but the descent that followed was daunting, and the odds of rolling an ankle suddenly skyrocketed. Somehow, we reached the bottom scratchless. Walking through Uterga, we spotted old hiking trainers repurposed as plant pots. On the last stretch of the day, my mum narrowly avoided stepping on a ladder snake as it crossed the path in front of us. Luckily, they’re not deadly.

Arrival: Puente la Reina was scorching but sleepy by the time we arrived. We ventured out briefly for snacks before retreating to our B&B, where we managed to watch the tennis finals.

Day 5: Puente la Reina – Estella

Start: 6:30 AM, sunrise over the bridge

We left Puente la Reina a little earlier than any previous stop, hoping to avoid the hottest part of the day. After seeking out croissants and coffee at a local bakery, we made our way over the bridge and out of the quaint town, slowly being lit up by a hazy sunrise. With easier inclines and shaded woods, this was our quickest day of the trip. We counted hundreds of snails along the paths and a few giant stink beetles. I took my camera out less, but again, we found ourselves surrounded by wild poppies and incredible views the entire way.

Arrival: We reached Estella dead on midday and celebrated with a beer before checking into our hostel. Our dinner was at a restaurant in the main square of the city – looking around, we spotted several other familiar walkers soaking up the lively atmosphere and enjoying their rest.

Day 6: Estella – Los Arcos

Start: 5:30 AM, cool and dark

Again, the goal today was to beat the heat and so we left even earlier. A friendly French lady we’d been crossing paths with daily set off at the same time as we did. The three of us quietly made our way out of the city in the dark, making the most of the cool air.

The first part of the route was stunning – the camera made more of an appearance for floral scenes and a golden sunrise over a small church. The second part of the route was a total change of pace as our path suddenly opened up and we could see that there was no shade for miles. However, this was broken up by an oasis in the form of a food truck, where we joined others to refuel and then push through the final stretch to reach Los Arcos.

Arrival: By the time we spotted Los Arcos on the horizon, we were melting, but we’d made it. From the outside, the Church of Santa Maria looked like many of the others we’d passed; however, the inside was a different story. The details were endless, and each corner was filled with history.

Day 7: Los Arcos – Logroño

Start: 5 AM, pitch black

Once more, we decided to leave even earlier, especially since this was the longest stretch overall at 28km. Walking through crop fields as the sky glowed in pinks and purples felt like the best beginning to the end of our short journey. Knowing it was the last day we’d get to walk alongside the wonderful people we’d met was a bittersweet feeling, but it only made us want to return and complete our journey more.

Arrival: Logroño was possibly the most lively it gets with it being the final day of the festival of San Bernabé — marching bands and queues in every street. We passed through the go-to tapas street, Calle Laurel, and made a note to return that night for food. (It was delicious). The following day, we witnessed a powerful mass while we explored the Cathedral of Santa María de la Redonda and, by pure luck, ran into old Camino friends who we thought we’d never see again — exchanging contact details so we could follow the rest of their journey from afar.

A Short but Meaningful Week…

We had only been walking for seven days, but it felt like we had reached a rhythm and leaving now felt too soon. Before we had even left, we were trying to figure out when we could return. A week of quiet walking and reflection was needed, as well as a chance to photograph new places. Although I didn't use my camera as much as I had anticipated, swiping through the images on my SD card and phone camera roll reminded me of the sweet moments my mum and I shared along the way, and that was enough. Whether it's later this year, next year, or even in a decade, we'll be back to complete the route and make our way to Santiago.

One Week on the Camino: Walking the French Way…