Camino de Santiago Reflections: First Day Walking
Saint-Jean-Pied-de-Port to Roncesvalles
Hi there! I’m Nicole—a pilgrim on the Camino de Santiago.
It’s been nearly a year since we (me and my boyfriend Alejandro) completed our first Camino, but I recently woke up with a strong pull to share the experience—day by day, just as I told it to my journal. To protect the privacy of other pilgrims I will be changing names and/or nationality.
Over 33 days, we walked 500 miles from Saint-Jean-Pied-de-Port to Santiago de Compostela on the Camino Frances trail. Each day, I’ll share my personal reflections, a daily haiku, a few photos, and small moments that left their mark. I’ll also include some added context and practical notes for fellow pilgrims.
You can check out my previous blogs for reflections from our first day arriving on the Camino here, logistics for SJPP here, and logistics for Roncesvalles here.
If you’re walking the Camino, planning it, or just curious—I hope these reflections help you feel something real. I’d love to hear from you in the comments.
Camino Day 1: Roncesvalles
I completed my first day! I walked the first stage of the Camino de Santiago—and what was said to be the steepest, most difficult day. And somehow… it didn’t feel that bad.
I began the morning staring at a sign that said over 700 kilometers to Santiago. A number that felt impossibly large. My mind flooded with doubt: How could I walk that far? Is this actually possible for me? But after today, I feel a quiet shift. Maybe—just maybe—I can do this.
Today felt like walking through a fairytale. Rolling green hills unfolded endlessly, dotted with wildflowers and scattered stone cottages. We climbed steadily, passing cows, goats, sheep, and huge horses—twice the size of the ones back home in California. I couldn’t believe how massive they were. Not only were they beautiful to look at, but as they grazed on the hillside, their bells created a song that carried through the mountain pass. I’d never seen this before: horses with bells. I learned that it was meant to keep them from disappearing into the thick fog that often covers this region.
But not today. Today, we were gifted a rare clear sky, and with every step, the world opened up around us. Sunlight spilled over the mountaintops, the air was crisp and quiet except for the chorus of cow bells, horse bells, and pony bells. I truly felt like I was walking through a Disney storybook.
We paused for meditation at the summit, listening to the wind whispering through tall grass, and later stopped for lunch beside a gently running stream. It was the most peaceful day. I couldn’t believe it was my real life.
Today’s takeaway:
👉 What you tell yourself matters. Choose thoughts that move you forward, not ones that hold you back.
I had such an inspiring conversation with an older Swiss woman. She was finishing her sixth Camino, this one beginning in Le Puy and ending today in Roncesvalles. She told us she had nearly stayed home. At 67, she wondered if she was too old to do it again.
But today, on her 30th and final consecutive day of walking, she smiled and said to me: “I feel stronger than ever. I feel so strong.”
Her words stayed with me for the rest of the day. (And through the rest of the Camino. I didn’t know it then, but I would draw strength and inspiration from this moment during my lowest lows on the Camino.)
It reminded me of how often the mind tries to protect us—with fear, with excuses, with reasons not to begin. But she told herself something powerful: “I can always turn around. I can stop if I need to. But I will start.”
That simple decision—to begin—became strength.
She could’ve chosen fear. She could’ve stayed home. But instead, she chose to see what might be possible.
That conversation reminded me to pay attention to the stories I tell myself. A reminder that our thoughts aren’t always true. Often, our minds give up long before our bodies do.
Arriving at Roncesvalles
Later, we shared dinner with a Czech man and a French man. It was hilariously mismatched—one spoke a little English, the other only French, but neither seemed bothered by the language barrier. The French man talked endlessly, pulling up picture after picture of his Jack Russell. We couldn’t understand a word he said, but the table was full of laughter. The food was forgettable, luckily, the moment wasn’t.
Tonight, we’re staying in an albergue with over 100 other pilgrims on our floor. I’m a little nervous about the possibilities of snorers tonight.
We also learned how to wash our clothes by hand. Luckily, Alejandro had read to pack some clothespins because the wind was blowing everyone’s clothes off the rack and all over the yard.
Alright, I am truly exhausted in the best way.
Oh—and I learned that “being woken by angels” means waking to a song of angelic voices at 6 am. It was actually the most peaceful way to start the day. I wonder if that’s how tomorrow will begin, too.
Daily Haiku:
Bright green hills galore
Cowbells, horse bells, pony bells
Up and up we go
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