Every year hundreds of thousands of pilgrims make their painful, blister-popping way to the shrine of St James in Santiago de Compostela in northwest Spain. Most follow the celebrated Camino Frances over the Pyrenees then westward for nearly 780 kilometres; fewer choose to walk the quieter, lesser-known and - let’s be honest - much shorter Camino Portugues which winds from Lisbon, north through Porto, into Galicia. Always a man to do things by halves, Patrick Tierney - a product of that gift that keeps on giving: a 1950s Irish Catholic upbringing - set out to walk the upper section of the Portuguese route. After a few heady days sampling the city’s eponymous liquor, he skulks out of Porto into the shimmering heat of July, intending to reach Santiago in time for the city’s annual celebration of its patron saint. On the way, our wanderer wrestles with many important issues. Can an atheist really go on pilgrimage? Could a two-week solitary hike help him adapt to life on his own following the death of his beloved wife? Is walking alone a good way to meet people? Who knew a combination of Compeed and Vaseline could ease the path to salvation? And can a thirsty Irishman find a decent beer anywhere in Iberia?Punctuated by creaking knees and a daily battle against chafing in unmentionable places, ‘Northward to Santiago’ is part memoir, part rumination on grief and loss, and in no way a reliable guide to hiking anywhere. Written by a man happy to describe himself as ‘a mere pond skater on the meniscus of life’, it offers neither insight nor profundity. It is instead an honest attempt to map the internal and external journey of a grumpy cynic, ageing and aching his way to some sort of reconciliation with what he has lost, gratitude for what he has had and, perhaps, picking up along the way faint hints of a future still to be explored. And - trigger alert - its pages contain splutterings that purport to be ‘poetry’. You have been warned.
