Buen Camino - Escaping Modernity in Galicia

The communal arising every morning with my fellow 'pilgrims', and the camaraderie as we walked. The fresh country air and open fields. The friendly locals and satisfying pain in my legs every evening. There are many memories I cherish and recall fondly when I think about my time walking the iconic 'Camino de Santiago' pilgrimage route in northern Spain in 2012.

It was an experience I will never forget and one which someday I hope to repeat. I didn't do it for religious or spiritual reasons, it wasn't to get myself fit, and it certainly wasn't for the fun of it. To be perfectly honest, I have no idea why I did it, but I sure am glad I did.

One small stretch of the journey I remember well was as I came into the village of Ligonde on my 2nd day of walking. I hadn't ever heard of the place, and haven't heard tell of it since. I rarely talk about my time spent there, perhaps because I want to keep it to myself. It was the 21st century but it could easily have been 100 years earlier - Ligonde took me back in time, in the most beautiful and authentically Galician of ways.

The scenery along the final stretch of 'The Way of St. James' is indescribably beautiful. I found myself completely alone and loving it, with just the odd stray cow and nodding farmer for company. The communities around Ligonde are heavily dependent on agriculture and fruitful crops, but I hadn't expected the sight of locals cutting grass with scythes, and gardens replete with vegetables towering over my pale six-foot-four Irish frame.

I don't know if it was the rustic farmyards or the alluring and ancient chapels dotted around the village drawing me in, but my throat was as dry as sandpaper in the midday Spanish sun, and I had to stop for a drink. I ventured slightly off the main route and found an old stone building with the word 'cerveza' emblazoned on the door - knowing I was in the right place. I had two pints of the local draught while the elderly owners stared at me, smiling broadly. Neither of us spoke the other's language, but we didn't need to. It was an experience that left an indelible mark on me - and one which, for me, summed up the tranquility and state of oneness that many people experience along 'the Way.'

When I was in Ligonde I didn't miss my iPhone, I didn't feel compelled to update my Facebook status, and I didn't miss the busy modern life I had left behind. I do however miss that little village - I hope I can go back, and when I do, I hope it hasn't changed one bit.