Blisters, crowds, 30-kilometre days: a no-nonsense guide to the Camino

There's a popular saying along the historic trails of Spain, the Camino de Santiago doesn't give you what you want, it gives you what you need.

For most travellers who mistake a rugged pilgrimage for a standard sightseeing holiday, that lesson begins with a harsh reality check, Camino veteran David Box told ACM, the publisher of this masthead.

"Last year, I came across a couple who had come straight off the plane to the Camino. The guy was red, he looked like he was going to have a heart attack," Mr Box said.

"They were dragging their wheeled, roller bags along the gravel track. I have no idea if they ever finished, it'd be a bloody miracle if they did."

Mr Box, 61, has walked the Camino de Santiago, a network of ancient pilgrimage routes across Europe leading to the Cathedral of Santiago de Compostela in northwest Spain, multiple times.

He has walked alongside many fellow travellers, including those who have thoughtfully researched and planned their trips and those who hope everything works out when they arrive in Spain.

For those eager to avoid coming completely unprepared, the temptation is often to throw money at the problem by booking expensive, all-inclusive Camino packages through travel agencies, Mr Box said.

But the seasoned walker warned that these packages were a "massive trap", often doubling the price of the trip while stripping away its flexibility.

"They sell you the idea that someone will come and take your bags to the next place," Mr Box said.

"Well, every place does that. You just pay four euros, write your next address, and it gets there," he said.

"What they charge you thousands for, you can easily do yourself."

A twisted ankle or severe blisters can strike at any time, Mr Box said, who suffered nerve damage to his feet after breaking in a new pair of shoes on the track.

If a walker is locked into a tour package, with non-refundable accommodation booked along the route, they may be forced to sacrifice their bookings in the event of an injury.

Mr Box said these issues can be circumvented by booking accommodation with free 24-hour cancellation policies.

This creates a safety net, allowing walkers to listen to their bodies, take an unexpected rest day, or slow down without a financial penalty.

"Free cancellation gives you massive flexibility, because something might go wrong ... a taxi on the Camino costs more than a night's sleep," he said.

Thinking the Camino is a gentle stroll across Spain is also a mistake, Mr Box said.

The physical reality can even be a brutal awakening for people who consider themselves to be fit, with back-to-back days walking 20 to 30 kilometres.

"The biggest stage I did with my son last year was 33 kilometres," the 61-year-old said.

"My son is 25 years old, plays footy, and he found it tough. He had the bravado to say he was fine, but he did later admit that it wasn't as easy as he made it out to be."

But Mr Box said that developing mental endurance was the point of walking the Camino.

The Camino forces travellers to slow down to a human pace, to abandon instant gratification in favour of a slower, more transformative journey.

To earn the 'Compostela', the official certificate of Camino completion, walkers must complete a minimum of 100 kilometres into Santiago de Compostela.

For most Camino walkers, this means starting the journey in the Galician town of Sarria.

Despite the physical and mental grit required, the Camino offers travellers a "profound" feeling of reassurance, the 61-year-old said.

Stripping life down to a single backpack forces a shift in perspective, the noise of the modern world fades into the steady rhythm of walking and the sounds of nature, he said.

"The Camino changes your relationship with the world. You look at everything you have on your back and you realise just how little you actually need to be happy," he said.