The Camino Primitivo begins in Oviedo. When I arrived there yesterday, I almost ended up without a place to sleep. Since this Camino wasn’t planned, I didn’t know there were so few accommodations compared to how many hikers are on this route. Every place I called turned me down because they were full. But my persistence paid off, and I finally found a roof over my head. By 9 p.m., I was already curled up in my sleeping bag, exhausted from the bus ride to the airport, the wait for the flight, the flight itself, and another bus ride to the starting point. All that waiting and traveling tires me out more than a 30 km walk.
Lying in bed, I opened the app I use for the Camino—called Buen Camino—to check what awaited me on the first day. The Camino Primitivo is divided into 13 stages in the app. The first one is just under 30 km long with a total of 700 meters of elevation gain. The app is really well-made and super helpful for planning each day. It includes all accommodations, the number of beds available, whether there’s a kitchen or fridge, where to find bars, shops, pharmacies, ATMs… basically, everything a hiker needs. I closed my eyes at 9 p.m., but sleep wasn’t great. Other hikers partied late into the night, arriving loudly and disrupting my rest. Since I went to bed first, I was also the first to get up and head out—when it was still pitch black and everyone else was still snoring. I woke up refreshed, well-rested, and ready for new adventures. The town was still asleep, so no morning caffeine for me. But it was peaceful and free, which painted a smile on my face. Silence—I had missed it. It felt so good to be back on an unfamiliar path that somehow felt like home.
The trail that morning wound through forest and pavement. Though this route is short, it comes with a fair amount of climbing and doesn’t hesitate to show its teeth. Hills, ascents, and stunning sunrises—that’s what this path is known for. Mornings are cold here, at least for a hiker, but not for long, because by 10 a.m. the sun is more motivated than I am. The air wraps around you like a hot oven and refuses to let go.
I had to walk 2 km more than planned that day because all the accommodations along the way were full. I ended up walking 32 km without food. I found a place to sleep that was 2 km off the route. During the last 4 kilometers, I was shaking like an old-school alarm clock because my blood sugar was hitting the red zone.
It was still early when I reached the accommodation. An older man was waiting outside and showed me around. What can I say... the lack of food and the intense heat sent my brain straight into the stratosphere of imagination. Suddenly I was in The Shining. We were alone in the house, and although the man was polite, my thoughts were not. My mind played out a scene of rape, torture, and murder. He interrupted my dark spiral by offering dinner at 7 p.m. I immediately agreed—there were no shops nearby and I was starving until 8 p.m. Spaniards are just... slow. Or rather, they take life easy. While waiting for dinner, other hikers started to arrive, and the tension in my body finally relaxed. "Okay, I’m not sleeping here alone tonight," I told myself. What a relief.
A woman approached the bed next to mine and dropped her backpack on the free bed beside me. She asked where I was heading the next day. I replied, "Santiago." I never remember the names of the towns before Santiago anyway. She laughed and introduced herself as Gro, from Denmark. We started chatting about the trouble with accommodation on this trail. One thing led to another, and we booked beds at the same place for the next night. We filled the rest of the day and the dinner wait with jokes and laughter—an excellent ending to day one. That promised 8 p.m. dinner finally kicked off at 9 p.m., because... Spanish rhythm. And as we all know, a hungry person is a different kind of person.
