Camino on Fire: How We Walk Safely When Spain’s Heatwave Closes the Way

What Changed This Week—and What It Means for Your Journey

Spain is burning hot this August. Wildfires have jumped across hills and pine valleys. Flames have pushed close to towns we love. Trails had to close. A long stretch of the Camino de Santiago between Astorga and Ponferrada shut down for safety. Trains and roads in parts of Galicia and Castile y León ran on delays or detours. Smoke turned noon into dusk. The news hit fast, and many of us felt the same punch in the gut. Plans paused. Nerves rose. Do we cancel? Do we wait? Do we reroute?

Let’s take a breath together. In other words, let’s get clear on what is happening and what we can do now. Fires rise and fall with wind and heat. Authorities will always protect life first. That is the right call. It also means closures can appear in hours, and reopen just as fast when crews win ground. So our job is simple and steady. We keep safety first. We keep our plan soft. We move with respect for the land, the locals, and the teams on the line.

What changed for pilgrims this week? Three things at once.

First, the path itself. A block of about 50 kilometers near the León–Bierzo line went off-limits. That shuts classic stage towns for a bit. Albergues near the burn zone closed or shifted to help evacuees. Markers are there, but we do not follow them through smoke. We step back. We give space to the people fighting the fire.

Second, the network around the trail. Trains slowed in smoke. Buses took longer routes. Some roads closed to all but emergency vehicles. Taxis were busy, then very busy. This matters because the Camino is not just a footpath. It is a living system of beds, bowls, blisters, buses, and good will. When one link shakes, the whole chain hums.

Third, the mood. We came here to walk and to share. But most of all, we came to be part of a long, generous story. That story does not break when a stage closes. It bends. It asks new questions. Can we help a local inn that just lost a week of guests? Can we share a cab with two tired strangers and make them friends? Can we honor the firefighters with patience instead of pressure? Yes, we can.

So what does this mean for you right now? You have choices, and you are not wrong to want a clear plan. Here is the simple truth: you can still make a great Camino week. The key is to pivot with purpose.

• You can skip the closed stretch and rejoin farther west.
• You can jump south or north to an alternate route for a few days.
• You can pause one or two days in a safe town and then continue after crews reopen the way.
• You can trade long stages for shorter walks, mix in buses, and keep your body happy in heat.

None of these options ruin a pilgrimage. Instead of a straight line, you now draw a gentle curve. After more than a thousand years, the Camino has always held curves—wars, storms, floods, and yes, fires. The path is more than paint on a post. The path is the people, the prayer, the care, and the next good step you take.

Let’s make those steps clear.

Your Reroute Playbook: Safety, Logistics, and Kind Choices

Think of this as a calm, sturdy plan you can use today. We keep the tone friendly. We keep the moves small. And we keep you safe.

1) Start with a smoke and heat check

• Look up at the sky where you stand. If you see thick smoke or ash fall, do not walk.
• Smell the air. If it burns your throat, do not walk.
• Feel the heat. If it is extreme, shorten the stage or shift to dawn and stop by late morning.
• Listen to locals. If they say a trail is closed, it is closed—no debate.

In other words, your senses are tools. Use them. Pride is not a plan.

2) Choose one of three simple paths

• Leap ahead. Book a bus or taxi from Astorga-area towns to Villafranca del Bierzo, Cacabelos, or even Sarria. Rejoin the Camino where it is safe and open. You still walk real miles, meet real friends, and earn real joy.
• Shift routes. Slide to an alternate path for a few days. For example, hop south to a section of the Vía de la Plata or north to a safer greenway. When the main route reopens, slide back.
• Pause with purpose. Take a one- or two-day rest in a safe town. Visit a local museum, church, or craft center. Journal. Wash clothes. Sleep. When crews beat back the fire, you continue fresh.

3) Book beds the smart way

• Call or message albergues a day ahead this week. Beds move fast when walkers bunch up after a closure.
• If one place is full, ask for help. Hospitaleros often know a spare bed or a neighbor with space.
• If you must push to a private room, do it. Rest matters more than a perfect budget in a heatwave.
• Stay flexible. A town you never planned to see may end up your favorite of the trip.

4) Move your bag without fuss

• Luggage services can still work around closures by using roads outside the burn area.
• Tag your bag with your full name, phone, and next stop.
• If a service cannot cross a closed zone, ask them to hold your bag one day, then deliver when you leap ahead.

5) Use vehicles with care and sense

• Buses: Sit near front if prone to motion sickness in smoke. Keep water handy.
• Trains: Expect delays. Bring a book, a snack, and patience.
• Taxis: Share with other pilgrims. Split the fare. Make new friends.
• Rides: If a local offers a lift to avoid smoke, thank them, check your route on a map, and go.

6) Rebuild your day in heat and haze

• Start at dawn. Walk in the cool. Take a long shade break at midday.
• Shorten stages. Ten to fifteen kilometers is fine. No hero miles in a heatwave.
• Hydrate on a schedule. Sip every fifteen minutes, not only when thirsty.
• Eat salt and fruit. Your body needs both to keep pace in heat.
• Cover up. Wide hat. Light long sleeves. Sunglasses. Neck buff for dust and smoke.
• Mind your breath. If you cough or feel chest tightness, stop and move indoors.

7) Pack the “heat and haze” kit

• Two liters of water capacity (bottles or bladder).
• Electrolyte tabs or a small pinch of salt for your bottle.
• Light scarf or mask for dusty air.
• Pocket sunscreen.
• Rewetting eye drops.
• A small power bank.
• Blister kit (tape, pads, small scissors).
• A copy of your ID and insurance.

8) Keep pilgrim etiquette strong in crisis

• Do not enter closed areas. Full stop. Crews need clear roads and trails.
• Do not drone, fly kites, or burn anything. Fire bans are serious.
• Do offer a chair, a phone charge, or a snack to someone who looks worn.
• Do tip kindly. Local bars and inns may lose a week of sales and still keep smiles for you.
• Do share clear info, not rumors. Say what you know, not what you fear.

9) Support the places that support you

When a region takes a hit, cash flow matters. We can help, and it does not take much.

• Buy the menu del día instead of a packaged snack.
• Pick up a small craft or book at a local shop.
• Stay an extra night in a family-run inn.
• Leave a kind review with names. That kindness pays forward.

10) Guard your spirit, not just your skin

A sudden change can sting. You saved for this trip. You trained. You pictured a certain bridge, a certain view, a certain stamp in your credencial. Then fire says, “Not today.” Feel that. Name it. Then lift your eyes to what is still here. The bells still ring. The bread is still warm. The greetings are still real. We can grieve a stage and still love the walk we get. Both can live in us at once.

11) Insurance, money, and receipts

• Keep every receipt if a closure forces new transport or lodging.
• If you have travel insurance, note the date, place, and reason for changes.
• Use cards where you can. If ATMs are busy in a crowded town, share your plan and help each other find one that works.
• If a refund is not possible, ask for a credit. Small places hurt in crisis; a credit keeps good will alive.

12) A simple three-day pivot plan (sample)

Day 1: Astorga → leap to Villafranca del Bierzo
Morning coffee in Astorga. A short bus or shared taxi. Check in early. Take a short afternoon loop on safe streets and riverside walkways. Early dinner. Early bed.

Day 2: Villafranca del Bierzo → Cacabelos (short heatwise stage)
Start at dawn. Walk the easy river flats. Break under shade for a long lunch. Check in. Foot care. Siesta. Evening stroll to a small church. Journal blessings and names.

Day 3: Cacabelos → Villadecanes or beyond (with options)
If the air is clear, take a gentle morning stretch. If heat rises fast, stop early and rest. If smoke lingers, use a short hop by bus to a safer town and walk there. You still earn your miles. You still earn your smiles.

13) If you are about to start your Camino next week

• Keep your flights. Do not rush to cancel.
• Pack the heat-and-haze kit.
• Book the first two nights, then stay flexible.
• Mark two leap points on your map.
• Set your mind to “steady and kind.” That mindset will save the trip.

14) If you live along the route or run a small business

• Post clear signs about closures and detours.
• Share short, kind updates at your door or window.
• Offer water refills, shade, and a bench if you can.
• If you must close, post a note with a hopeful return date. Pilgrims will come back.

15) If you are worried about health and smoke

• Know your body. If you have asthma or heart risk, walk only when air is clean.
• Carry your meds close.
• Do not be shy about taking a full rest day. A day inside a cool stone church or museum is not a failure. It is wisdom.

16) Why this can still be a holy walk

Holy does not mean easy. Holy means set apart. A fire season sets this walk apart. It asks more love from us—more care for strangers, more softness with plans, more gratitude for simple things. A glass of cold water. A room with a fan. A safe detour. A quiet prayer for crews on the ridge. That is the Camino too. We do not lose the heart of it. We find it again.

17) After the fire: how we return well

• Trails will reopen in stages. When they do, walk with gentle feet.
• Stay on marked paths to protect new soil.
• Keep dogs leashed.
• Do not step on black crusts; they shield life below.
• Pack out every scrap.
• Leave a small donation to a local volunteer group if you can.

18) A grace note for your credencial

If you skip a closed section, your camino does not shrink. Your intent does not shrink. Your care does not shrink. Get stamps from the places you pass. Add a note in the margin about the detour. One day you will show it to a friend and say, “We took a curve, and it was good.”

19) Words for your heart when doubt creeps in

• “I walk the way that is open.”
• “I honor the land and the people who live here.”
• “I can change my plan and keep my purpose.”
• “I am not alone.”

20) A tiny packing add-on for this season

• A light, packable umbrella. Shade on foot.
• A thin, long-sleeve sun shirt.
• A small, soft towel for wetting and cooling your neck.
• A pen to leave a thank-you note where words are needed.

21) A kind script for tough moments

• To a closed albergue: “We’re thinking of you. We’ll return when you reopen.”
• To a firefighter or police officer: “Gracias. We’ll keep clear.”
• To another pilgrim who is scared: “Let’s find a safe plan together.”
• To yourself at bedtime: “Today, I walked with care. That counts.”

22) The long view

Heatwaves will come again. Fires will come again. The Camino will still be here. The people will still be here. Towns will mend roofs and plant trees. Hills will green. We can support that healing by returning—this fall, next spring, or the year after. In other words, we keep faith with the route and the people who keep it alive.

23) A brief reminder about photos and posts

• Do not post live locations of crews or flames.
• Do not cross tape for a shot.
• Do share the beauty that remains—stone streets at dawn, a simple meal, a smile from a baker. Beauty is fuel in a hard week.

24) Community, always

If you have extra socks, share. If you have extra time, listen. If you have extra coins, tip. If you have extra peace, pass it down the line. We are pilgrims together, not solo hikers in a race. We carry each other in small, human ways.

Ash, Courage, and the Long Walk Ahead

A fire can stop feet, but it cannot stop care. This week asked more from all of us—pilgrims, locals, drivers, hosts, and the brave crews on the ridge. We met that ask with patience, clear heads, and soft hearts. We chose safety over pride. We chose people over plans. And we found that the Camino lives in those choices as much as it does in any stage between two towns.

So we keep going, step by careful step. We walk where the air is clear. We rest where the shade is kind. We leap when we must. We wait when we should. We help where we can. In other words, we carry the spirit of the Way through smoke and change and back into open sky.

The trail will reopen. Trains will run true. Inns will fill with laughter again. Until then, we walk the way that is open—and we do it with respect, with courage, and with a steady, grateful heart.