In the early hours of the morning, September 1, 2011, the sun having not yet risen, my wife and I left the Basque border town of St Jean Pied de Port, and began the first leg of the Camino de Santiago, which would take across northern Spain.

It took us 28 days. We met amazing and crazy people. We pushed ourselves to our physical limits. We battled our minds and our egos, which I guess are the same thing. We spoke Spanish for a large part of our journey. We were a community of walkers who looked out for one another. We shared our stories, our injuries, our food, our reasons for walking - always the same but different.

I vowed never to do it again. But sometimes I miss the simplicity of walking for a day. Of breaking things down to a few steps. Shutting out the world and focusing only on what is in front of me. The realness of that experience will always stick with me. Yet, at times it also feels like just another thing I’ve done.