The scallop shell that dangled from her backpack as she stuffed it into the luggage rack above my seat gave her away immediately. It was the symbol of the pilgrim. She slumped into the seat beside me. She was an exchange student from Canada, and had just walked the pilgrim route from Bilbao to Santiago de Compostela and was now taking the train back. "How long did it take you?" I asked. "Four weeks," she replied, "and we met one guy who did it carrying a cross and walking in bare feet."
Santiago de Compostela is one of the most famous places of pilgrimage in the Christian world. But if you don't want to do it on foot, you can let the train take the strain on a 12-day railway excursion with Explore. You travel on the narrow-gauge railways of the Feve system, stopping at hotels along the way. The journey is rich in history, art, spectacular ecclesiastical architecture and stunning landscapes, which the single-track railway links together like pearls on an iron string.
On our first night, our small group got together for pintxos (Basque tapas) at a cafe in Bilbao's Plaza Major. Antonio, our tour leader, explained that over the next 12 days we were free to do as much or as little as a group as we liked, and that the itinerary left us plenty of time "to do our own thing". So taking him at his word, next day I opted out of the tour of the local railway museum and spent the day in the Guggenheim museum instead, costing €13 for a day.
Next morning, we arrived at the Feve station in Bilbao, a riot of art deco tile-work that would make Gaudí blush. Three hours later, the little twin-carriage train had deposited us in Santander, where we spent the afternoon exploring the elegant seafront and wide streets, giving it the charm of a Spanish Biarritz.
Days were spent either travelling or exploring. So a walking day was nearly always followed by a relaxing one watching another spectacular vista slip by as the trains took us across contrasting landscapes: mountainous Basque country, coastal Cantabria and green Galicia. The trains may have been small – they were distinctly of the clackety-clack variety – but they had excellent buffet cars, like tapas bars on rails, where I spent many a happy hour sipping wine and eating jamon bocadillos. Next stop Llanes, but on the way Antonio took us on a detour up into the massifs of the Picos de Europa for an afternoon's walking. Buzzards rode thermals as we kept our eyes peeled in the hope of spotting the brown bears that inhabit this wilderness. We arrived in Llanes in the early evening to discover a lively little seaside town.
In Oviedo, the capital of Asturias, I wandered the maze of narrow streets clustered round the magnificent gothic cathedral. It was from here that King Alfonso II, on hearing of the discovery of the tomb of St James the Apostle, left on the first ever pilgrimage to Santiago de Compostela, setting in motion a religious rite of passage that has endured for more than a thousand years.
In the Museo Bellas Artes, I stood in front of 12 El Grecos and three stunning Goya portraits, and the streets of the town were littered with modern sculptures, including one of Woody Allen. A night's tapas bar-hopping in the old town ended with me joining a large crowd packed into the main square, listening to Spanish divas belt out passionate arias.
In Santiago de Compostela, it wasn't the imposing Baroque facade of the cathedral that held my attention; I was transfixed by the expressions of the pilgrims arriving at the end of their incredible journeys. Tears streamed down their faces as they pulled out mobile phones and talked to loved ones in far-away places. It was noon and I stepped into the cathedral as mass was being said. I squeezed in next to the ranks of visitors, pilgrims and locals. They huddled together in the wooden pews that faced the towering, ornate, gilt altarpiece that dominated the nave. Underneath it in a small crypt lay the mortal remains of Saint James.
Next day I spent €15 on an audio walking tour that guided me all over the old quarter, taking in the university, monasteries and convents, and the Museo Das Peregrinacións e De Santiago, which celebrates pilgrimages from all over the world.
We signed off in considerably more style though. Later that night, Antonio pulled off something of a coup by arranging a very affordable set price dinner for us all in the Hostal de los Reyes Catolicos, the magnificent five-star parador hotel that stands next to the cathedral.
On the journey back to Bilbao the train snaked through the hinterland. We spent a night in Ponferrada, a small town dominated by an imposing castle built by the Knights Templar. In the afternoon, Antonio escorted us to an outlying village up in the hills where we walked a stretch of the camino, the pilgrim's route. A track led us over green clad slopes, and in the distance a line of slowly turning wind turbines traced the outline of a high ridge, looking like modern day targets for any wandering Don Quixote to take a tilt at.
Our final destination was León, yet another city dominated by its imposing cathedral. Inside, a slowly shifting kaleidoscope of shimmering coloured light flooded the lofty interior as the late afternoon sun tracked its way across the cathedral's facade.
The fiesta season was still going strong and that night the bars and restaurants were packed with families. Is there a Spanish word for babysitter, I wondered. Somehow I doubt it – well into the night the streets were full of kids. A pilgrimage, whether you do it on foot or by rail, can be a very moving experience. But there was no forgetting that this is Spain, so be prepared to party as well.
