Before we get stuck in, a reminder that until mid-August we’re offering early-bird pricing on our upcoming Autumn walk
(October 31 to November 9).

Head to our website to find out more and apply!

2022 was a tough year for me.

I was on burnout leave from my management consulting job, wracked with anxiety, and in the pit of depression.

I had a rather spectacular relapse right before heading to a Vipassana retreat that I then had to cancel, the prospect of meditation-induced psychosis being singularly unattractive on top of everything else.

And all of that happened three weeks before I was due to start walking the Camino de Santiago.

When I turned up in Léon to begin the walk, it’s fair to say that I was woefully unprepared for what I was about to do to my body.

The first day was… fine.

I was hugely excited to fulfill the dream of walking the hallowed route of St. James. And, after the drama of the preceding weeks, I was surely glad to be back alongside my partner, Chris, who’d already walked 400 kilometres from France to our meeting point.

But by about kilometre 10 of the 300 plus I would eventually walk, there emerged a niggle in my knee that just would not let up. It would, in fact, not let up until I got to our destination, Santiago. And, in fact, it would get much, much worse.

Walking along the flat was fine. Uphill, too. But the problem with walking uphill is that, at some point, you have to come down, and Christ Almighty was coming down painful. Desperate to keep some semblance of pace — Chris was accustomed to walking 25 kilometres a day at this point and I was struggling to hit 15 — I tried all sorts of tricks: different kinds of braces, zig-zagging down the hills, walking sideways, and — in a fit of desperation — slathering on some cream gifted to my by a Chinese pilgrim that smelt like hell and burned with the same intensity.

This, dear pilgrim, is not what we want for you.

While it’s true that any good pilgrimage will come with some kind of struggle, we believe that there’s a happy medium.

Yes, if one was to do the Camino in the traditional style, one would walk sections of it on their hands and knees, or might engage in a bit of self-flagellation along the way.

And, yes, it’s possible to bus smoothly between every significant point on the Ise-ji, skipping the spiritually-enlightening boredom of walking along a highway, but we feel that rather misses the point.

Our goal is to help folk find the happy middle ground where walking day after day in connection can work its magic without feeling completely overwhelming.

Here’s how we do that:

1. Dedicated intake calls
   As part of the application process, we build an understanding of your relationship with your body, your current level of fitness, and whether there are any physical niggles which might impact your experience. Based on what we learn, we can offer tailored advice on how best to get prepared to walk with us, including sharing detailed information about the route with physical therapists, personal trainers, and the like.
   
   We also offer group Q&A calls in the lead-up to the walk which give you the opportunity to learn from us, and from one another, as you get prepared.

2. 8-week training programme
   If you’re building up your fitness from scratch, this will ensure that you have more than enough baseline capacity to complete the walk. It starts with taking a 5-kilometre/3-mile walk which will take you around an hour, and builds up to something approaching our daily average of 18 kilometres/11 miles with some weight on your back. We’re on hand to provide support and encouragement as you build up your endurance.

3. Detailed briefing pack
   This contains everything we’ve learned about what it takes to walk comfortably. We cover what gear to buy, how to take care of blistered feet if they erupt, and how to keep your digestion moving. You’ll thank us, trust me…

4. Daily luggage forwarding
   Kal and I have walked on four continents, covering the Camino, the Ise-ji, the John Muir Trail, and the Overland Track, and the single greatest determinant of the ease once can experience in long-distance walking, especially when not accustomed to it, is the amount of weight on one’s back. That’s why we offer daily luggage forwarding as part of our walks. This means you only need to carry a day pack with water, snacks, and wet weather gear, rather than everything you might have brought with you, which may or may not include an electric aerial (ask me).

5. The Care Crate
   Along the way, you’ll have access to our experience in keeping any suffering to a minimum. We also carry a crate containing the care items we’ve come to know and love for taking care of our feet and joints, everything from moleskin tape and linaments to a tincture to help soothe those weary muscles to sleep. And, of course, because we’re walking in Japan, the majority of places we stay in provide access to a deep, hot bath for an end-of-day soak.

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Reflecting on that 2022 walk on the Camino, I turned up in Léon completely unprepared, psychologically and physically, and feeling pretty broken. I had no idea whether I could complete the walk.

Nonetheless, something called me to it and I can see now that I got exactly the experience I needed. The pain I endured, and the sense of achievement I felt when I reached the main square of Santiago, restored my faith in my body and my capacity to grab life by the balls and live it the way I wanted. Indeed I owe my part in the creation of Seinoza to that first long walk.

All of which is to say there’s no right or wrong way to walk with us on the Ise-ji: if you’re feeling called to it, then in my experience, the call is worth answering. And you’ll have our support along the way.

If you’re feeling the call, and wondering whether it’s right for you right now, let’s talk.

Book a call with Kal and me and we’ll figure it out.

With love from Sydney,

Drew