On the Camino, dozens of books have been written and thousands of videos filmed. Over the past few years, without exaggeration, millions of people have set out on the path—tired of loss, pandemics, armed conflicts, depressive news cycles, and endless informational noise. Beaches, resorts, and checklist-style sightseeing have stopped being alluring. People began to long for a more meaningful kind of travel, with space to be alone with themselves, for silence, for a return inward, for healing of the soul, for stepping beyond the absurd reality in which the world seems to have found itself.

It seems to me that over these years we have become quite burned out, and have instinctively turned toward light, regardless of religious beliefs. Moreover, today the number of mixed and non-religious pilgrims on the Camino exceeds the number of those who walk it with purely religious motivation.

And we, Homo sapiens, are true players. We are masters of creating meaning and are willing to play the games we invent for ourselves for hundreds and even thousands of years. This, perhaps more than anything else, is what fascinates me most about humanity (provided it remains voluntary, of course). Millions of serious, adult people are willing to walk for months, stamping their pilgrim passports in order to reach Saint James, whose relics’ authenticity is, objectively speaking, close to zero. But it is not about the relics at all—it is about the road itself. Because true pilgrimage always happens within a person, and light can only be found there as well. And the long road simply supports that search.

Just 20 years ago, the Camino looked completely different from what it is today (I highly recommend Hape Kerkeling’s book “I’m Off Then” — a vivid, humorous account of walking the French route from Saint-Jean-Pied-de-Port in the early 2000s). Not to mention that relatively recently, in the 1980s, Paulo Coelho walked to Santiago de Compostela almost entirely alone.

And now, within just a few years, demand has grown to such an extent that alternative and more remote sections have had to be actively restored—some completely exotic routes leading into the main Caminos. Long-forgotten paths have resurfaced, along which medieval pilgrims once traveled to Spain from Malta, Sicily, Croatia, and who knows where else. A whole ecosystem has emerged to support these routes across different countries, consisting of volunteers, private organizations, and travel companies. The Church and relevant municipalities have also not stayed on the sidelines.

As a result, today all of Europe, much like in the Middle Ages, has once again become covered with a web of countless active walking trails leading toward the "place marked by a star"

When planning this trip, I was guided by two main ideas:

1. If it’s not possible to walk the entire long route in one go (and it isn’t), then it is better to break it into sections and complete it in several stages, rather than settling for a single final but shorter stretch.
2. If there are many Caminos and multiple access routes to their starting points from different countries, and these themselves consist of numerous segments, then why not select the most atmospheric and scenic ones—those that best match our idea of an ideal, meaningful journey (that is, secluded but not extreme; challenging but without long stretches along highways or industrial zones). And thus, walk not one continuous route, but several segments from different paths, with the final one being the last approach directly to Santiago de Compostela.

And so our plan took shape, one that will last several years and stretch across a thousand walking kilometers.

Our first Camino segment is the Via Jacobi (Fribourg – Geneva)—the shortest, gentlest, and a kind of trial run. I tried to ensure that no day’s walk exceeded 20 kilometers, considering my mother’s age and almost complete lack of experience with backpacking (upd. didn’t quite work out). This section is meant to test what we are actually capable of (upd. turns out—quite a lot!).

One small remark: we will occasionally deviate from the shell-marked path to visit places of interest outside the Camino itself. As a reminder, the scallop shell markers on the Camino symbolize the pilgrimage route to Santiago de Compostela, and its radiating “rays” represent the many roads leading from different places toward the same destination—Santiago. In addition, the first few days can safely be described as a warm-up. So this narrative should not be taken as a strict guide to the Via Jacobi.

Since we will be traveling in a “everything I need I carry on my back” format, we can’t really be called turigrinos (those who walk without luggage while their bags are transported separately). We are rather comfortable pilgrims, who still prefer private hotel rooms with showers and baths over hostels and albergues.

Well then—backpacks packed, shoes comfortable, weather forecast excellent. Time to set off!

Arrival day

We arrived in Geneva in the second half of the day, which meant that in our heads it was already night. So all that was left to do was get to the city center, stock up on food, and head to the hotel.

Geneva is the final point of our journey, but who knows whether there will be enough time and energy for stamps at the end of the trip, so first we stopped by the nearby Basilica of Notre-Dame close to the train station.

The elderly man who stamped our pilgrim passports was very eager to share his Camino experience with us, but our French, to put it mildly, leaves much to be desired. So all we really managed to catch were “magnifique cathedrals,” “landscapes,” and “Le Puy-en-Velay,” with which, of course, we fully agreed—we dream of going there ourselves.

We stocked up on food at the best shop in the world—the Geneva Food Manor—and headed to the hotel. Geneva in April is incredibly green, warm, and fresh.

Everything around us felt sunny and gentle; the city smelled of expensive perfume, delicious food, the coolness of the purest lake, and fresh young grass.

We arrived hungry, since neither of us can tolerate airplane food. The feeling was strange—I had left with sharp lower back pain, and twelve hours of sitting on a plane, of course, did nothing to improve it. So the arrival felt dissonant: I wanted to howl from pain and from delight at the same time.

We limped our way to the hotel and checked in, insisting we were wide awake and full of energy. We were, after all, the very picture of alertness! We took off our backpacks—ah! sat down on the edge of the bed—oh! How? How had we already slept four hours? When did that happen? And how did we manage to eat everything—we had packed a full bag of food, hot meals and desserts included?

Well then. A few back exercises, and back to sleep. Early start tomorrow.

Along the way, I will note the places where we received stamps, because on lesser-known Caminos these are not always as obvious as in Catholic Spain, France, or Portugal (it should be remembered that Switzerland was for a long time a center of Protestantism, and although the number of Catholics is now growing again, Catholic churches are still less common).

Gratitude of the day: thank you to my lower back for letting me reach the starting point. I believe in it! The beginning is made!

Mood: joyful anticipation

Stamp: Basilica of Notre-Dame, Geneva

Day One

Today’s plan is a walk to Geneva’s Old Town and the Cathedral of St. Peter, followed by a train ride to the starting point of our route: the city of Fribourg.

We received our stamps together with other pilgrims at the main cathedral in Geneva.

After a short walk through the Old Town, we headed to the train station.

Train service in Switzerland is organized with flawless precision—perfectly punctual, maximally convenient, simple, clear, rational, and safe. Every train is clean, with excellent restrooms, screens showing the list of stops and the train’s current location. We would take many trains on this journey, and not once, anywhere, were we asked to show our tickets, even though of course we had bought them all in advance.

We boarded the train. Outside the window, yellow rapeseed fields gave way to perfect pastures, then to fields of blooming coltsfoot, and again to rapeseed fields. The sky was blue, warm, and sunny.

Fribourg struck us with its emptiness. It felt like a set from a historical film that had already been shot and left behind.

Cleaned, beautiful, and empty. Fribourg is part of German-speaking Switzerland and, in appearance, it really feels more like Germany. We walk through the Old Town.

Underfoot, the Camino markers appear again, and that immediately sets the tone for adventure—people pass by without even noticing these signs, while you walk with your own quest, searching for clues along the way. There is something mysterious and intriguing in that.

We stepped into the magnificent Cathedral of St. Nicholas.

The wind here was even stronger than in London or Seattle. It felt like we were constantly pushing against air resistance — every step was a small struggle. But it didn’t dampen our mood at all. We still enjoyed the walk thoroughly.

In the morning, we planned to visit Edinburgh Castle. We walked up to it, but it turned out to be closed due to stormy winds.

The wind really was absolutely brutal up on the hill — right at the entrance to the fortress it was literally strong enough to knock you off balance. Still, they could have let people inside the castle. It was a real pity. We were disappointed and walked back down the Royal Mile, going into churches, shops, and cafés along the way.

After lunch, we headed to a tour of University of Edinburgh — or rather, we dropped Arseny off there, while decided to explore the campus on our own. The idea of using Thanksgiving for college visits clearly wasn’t ours alone, so the large groups of prospective students were made up almost entirely of Americans — both in Edinburgh and later in St Andrews.

The University of Edinburgh is located right in the very center of the city, while many of its buildings and student residences are scattered well beyond the center — meaning the university is woven into a large, active tourist city. This is very different from, for example, Cambridge, where the entire surrounding environment feels subordinated to the university itself.

Founded in the 16th century, it consistently ranks among the world’s top 30 universities according to various rankings such as QS World University Rankings and Times Higher Education.

During the tour, Arseny learned that the university was home to the first student union in the world. It is also where Charles Darwin studied before moving on to Cambridge — and it was here that his studies first led him to question religious doctrine. Arthur Conan Doyle also studied here. One of the university’s departments was where Dolly the sheep was cloned, and it was also where Peter Higgs worked and taught — the physicist after whom the Higgs boson was later named.

And that’s not even mentioning the many graduates who went on to become ministers and prime ministers of England and Scotland. In short, the university has a long and distinguished history.

While Arseny was walking with the group and learning about the program and academic structure, we (my mom and me) happened to come across a large student celebration ceremony. There we discovered that academic and student gowns follow quite elaborate rules: they can be black and white, or black with various colored accents — red, yellow, blue, two-tone combinations, and so on.

Since we weren’t on the official tour, no one had explained this to us, but with ChatGPT on hand we looked it up and learned that the colors of the hoods and trims on academic gowns vary depending on faculty and discipline. The gown styles also differ between undergraduates, future master’s students, and doctoral candidates. Those with special honors or degrees receive additional decorative elements on their robes. In short, everything looks very colorful and beautiful.

And overall, when you look around while being in student Edinburgh, you start to understand why the atmosphere in Harry Potter feels the way it does — the first book was actually written here, in a café nearby, by J.K. Rowling.

(By the way, some scenes of Hogwarts were filmed at the beautiful Durham University — from which Arseny has also already received an offer, though that’s already in England.)

After walking through the campuses and parks, we came to the conclusion that this beautifully scenic university is deeply integrated into the fabric of the capital. Here, students are fully mixed with local residents and noisy tourists alike — in other words, they live in the very heart of a major city, with all its advantages and drawbacks.

People are different, and for some this kind of location is a real advantage for a university, while for others it isn’t. We knew that Arseny was looking for a more enclosed, atmospheric campus setting, somewhat separated from the outside world, and we already had a sense that his overall impression would be somewhat mixed. And that’s exactly how it turned out.

The next morning, a miracle happened — the brutal wind finally died down and gave way to complete calm. This opened up new possibilities for us: we remembered our planned walk to Arthur's Seat, the trail that leads straight from the city up to an ancient volcanо

We had about two hours before our train to St Andrews, so we hurried up. And the hill was absolutely worth the visit — with such spectacular views over the city and the sea! Even here, in nature, there was a sense of ancientness, almost a sacred quality to the place itself.

The way down turned out to be more difficult — my city shoes were completely unsuited for the overnight-frozen volcanic slopes, and I was slipping badly for the entire first half of the descent.

Once we were back in the city, we headed straight to the station. The train from Edinburgh to St Andrews takes exactly one hour. But since it gets dark very early in northern latitudes in winter, we arrived again at dusk. And we immediately stepped into a quiet, dark medieval world. God, how beautiful it was — how much I love it.

We checked into a room right in front of the cathedral ruins, with the sea just behind them.

Long ago, in the mid-4th century, there lived Saint Regulus, who saw an angel in a dream. The angel told him to take the relics of Saint Andrew the Apostle and bring them to the ends of the earth. And so Regulus did — sailing all the way from Greece to these very shores. In honor of Saint Andrew, the small village that grew up by the sea was named after him. Saint Andrew later became the patron saint of all Scotland. And the Andrew’s cross, on which he was crucified, is familiar to everyone — the X-shaped cross.

Our room, although the most budget-friendly of the entire trip, turned out to be a spacious apartment with two bedrooms and a large living room (what a difference in prices after London). It’s a mystery how the homeowners manage to pull off such impressive renovations in their old grey stone buildings. Though with very high ceilings, large windows, and fireplaces, everything else is just a matter of execution.

Of course, we ignored the darkness and went out to explore the town — and, hooray! instead of depressing Tesco and Sainsbury’s, there were proper grocery stores. At last! We stocked up on food and fed the kids.

Our first impression of the town at night was that it seemed to be made entirely of clever, studious students. To me, that is the most wonderful thing in the world — an atmosphere of peace, order, quiet, and beauty, and yet still youth and freshness.

In the morning we went on a university tour. This time I couldn’t miss it — Arseny only has three dream universities, and here there is also a significant personal factor involved, so the chance that he will spend the next four years here is quite high. Although I won’t make any predictions.

The first part of the tour was led by girls in their third year of studies. You could tell that by the way they were wearing their red velvet student gowns — which, unlike the silk gowns in Edinburgh, looked more like warm, wide coats.

Second-year students wear their gowns slightly slipped off the shoulders, as they have already gained some confidence and independence over the year.

In the third year, only one shoulder remains covered — either the left or the right, depending on the faculty. (The right side is associated with the “hard sciences,” which are considered always right, while the left is for the humanities, closer to the heart.)

In the final year, both shoulders are left free, symbolizing full independence and readiness to step into the wider world. Our guides were from Physics and Classical Literature, so their gowns were draped differently, with opposite shoulders exposed. There are all kinds of traditions that accumulate when you are dealing with one of the oldest universities in the world.

The University of St Andrews was founded in 1413, making it the third oldest university in the English-speaking world after Oxford and Cambridge. It does not rank as highly in global rankings as Oxbridge (although in the UK rankings it often does, and sometimes even surpasses them), not because it is weaker, but because it offers a very limited range of subjects. For example, it has no engineering or many applied fields, which does not align with the criteria of most ranking systems.

However, in the disciplines it does offer, it enjoys an exceptionally strong reputation — often even stronger than that of the University of Edinburgh.

The more we walked from campus to campus, and the more I saw and heard, the more I felt that I could send Arsya here with complete peace of mind — the spirit of this place suits him perfectly. And I think Arseny felt something very similar.

We were told about student traditions and rituals, shown a living tree planted here by Mary, Queen of Scots in 1563, and introduced to the brass letters “PH” embedded in the cobblestones in the center of town.

You must never step on them — this is the spot where the heretic Patrick Hamilton was executed, and the place has been considered cursed ever since. Anyone who steps on it is bound to fail their exams. The curse can only be lifted by running through the fountain near the Chapel of St Salvator.

We were told about traditions of swimming in the North Sea and foam battles, about 150 student clubs for every possible interest, and about how tenderly the university treats its first-year students — every incoming student is assigned a “mother” and “father” from the third year who look after them, entertain them, and help them find their footing in the early days.

These “mothers” and “fathers,” in turn, follow old traditions of their own: they stage their own “weddings,” dress their “children” in funny costumes, and generally have a great time.

It almost goes without saying that the faculties are housed in incredibly beautiful ancient buildings — and walking through them, you can literally feel their rich history in the air.

We were shown the residence where the current Prince of Wales and future King of England, William, lived while studying here on the Art History program. It was also here that he met his future wife, Catherine, Princess of Wales (Kate Middleton).

We listened to the second part of the tour in a lecture hall. It focused specifically on the program itself, the courses, and the timeline for studying them (Arsya absolutely loved all these details — it turned out that the subjects he doesn’t particularly enjoy could be skipped entirely, while he could focus as much as possible on the ones he truly loves).