There are many ways to walk the Camino. Some people do it on a very low budget, chasing albergues and living by the rhythm of the road. Others choose a more comfortable version, with a little more certainty at the end of each day. Every approach has its own value.

This time, I chose mine.

I was ready for the kilometers, ready for the sun, ready for the blisters, and ready for the moments when the road would ask more from me than I felt like giving. But I also wanted something else: to arrive each evening not into uncertainty, but into a place where I could rest properly and enjoy the surroundings. That is why I booked all my accommodations in advance. It was not always the cheapest option, but after a long day of walking, I wanted a shower, some rest, and the chance to appreciate the place where the day ended.

In my previous Caminos, I often traveled very low budget, and more than once I ended up searching for a full albergue at the end of a long day. This time, I wanted to avoid that stress. Of course, I know what I was giving up too. Some of the best Camino evenings happen in shared kitchens and dining rooms, over simple meals, with pilgrims from all over the world. Those moments are special, and I knew I would miss them. Still, I believe connection does not only happen in the albergue. It can also happen on the road, through the walking itself.

This was my fourth Camino. And maybe my last. Or perhaps just the last one for this chapter of my life. I did not go looking for perfect conditions or a perfect training plan. I simply felt it was time to go. That is usually how it happens. At some point, the Camino calls, and you answer.

We flew from Prague to Oviedo with a stopover in Frankfurt, and then took a bus from the airport into the city. For the first day, we kept things easy. We settled into our hostel near the city center, unpacked, and let Oviedo slowly introduce itself to us.

Oviedo has a quiet elegance. It feels historic without being frozen in time. Our first steps led us to the cathedral, which, in my opinion, is the highlight of the city. It stands with a kind of calm dignity, as if it has watched pilgrims pass for centuries and knows very well what kind of journey is about to begin.

On the way, we passed a restaurant that looked far too inviting to ignore. And since we were in Asturias, we had to begin properly with sidra. If you have never seen sidra poured in Asturias, it is worth seeing at least once. The bottle is held high, the glass is held low, and the cider falls in a thin stream, waking up its flavor in the process. It is not just a drink here — it is part of the local culture.

We were also lucky enough to see dancers in the square, which made the evening even more memorable. There was a feeling that the city was not just showing itself to us, but welcoming us. Another detail that stood out immediately was the number of statues all around Oviedo. They seem to be everywhere, adding character and a kind of playful personality to the streets.

While sitting in the square and looking at the cathedral, I found myself thinking ahead to the real beginning of the Camino Primitivo. This is the oldest Camino route, first taken by King Alfonso II in the 9th century, when he traveled from Oviedo to Compostela after the discovery of the tomb of Saint James. It is an old path, but it still carries a strong energy. I was excited to begin.

I am not an athlete. I am not a sportsman. I am simply a regular, slightly overweight man with a backpack full of dreams and enough enthusiasm to keep walking. And maybe that is enough. Maybe that has always been enough. The Camino does not ask you to be perfect. It only asks you to start.

We ended the day with a good dinner, more sidra, and the quiet feeling that comes just before a journey truly begins. 

Then we went to sleep, ready for the road ahead.

See you on next one

Vashek