S2, E14: Would You Trek 500 Miles With Your Teen? Andrew McCarthy Answered Yes.

Hiking Spain’s Camino de Santiago ranks among the world’s most renowned pilgrimages. Actor, writer, and director Andrew McCarthy has completed it not just once, but twice. In this week's episode of Unpacked, we speak with Andrew about how his second journey—with his teenage son—led to his latest book, Walking with Sam.

Transcript

Andrew McCarthy: For me, travel has served as the university of my life. I've discovered much about myself while on the road, and the farther I ventured from home, the more at home I felt within myself.

Aislyn Greene, host: That’s writer Andrew McCarthy, author of the new memoir Walking With Sam, which chronicles Andrew’s five-week pilgrimage along the Camino de Santiago with his teenage son.

And I’m Aislyn Greene, the associate director of podcasts at Dinogo, and welcome to Unpacked, the podcast that explores a challenging travel topic each week. Some of you may recognize Andrew from his film and television roles—he starred in iconic ’80s films like St. Elmo’s Fire and Weekend at Bernie’s. More recently, he has directed TV shows such as Good Girls and Orange Is the New Black. However, I know him better as a travel writer and editor. As a young man, Andrew discovered Jack Hitt’s book Off the Road, which details a 500-mile journey along the Camino. Shortly thereafter, he found himself on a plane, embarking on the same path. It’s no exaggeration to say that this pilgrimage profoundly impacted his life and shaped him into a traveler.

Since then, he has authored four books. He served as editor-at-large for National Geographic Traveler for over a decade and also guest-edited the Best American Travel Writing anthology. In 2010, he was part of one of Dinogo’s inaugural Spin the Globe trips. That year, we spun the globe and sent Andrew to Ethiopia with less than 24 hours’ notice. Be sure to check our show notes for that story, including the details of how he ended up getting arrested.

Andrew’s latest book, Walking with Sam, was released on May 9th. As his son approached adulthood, Andrew aimed to relive his own first Camino journey and strengthen their relationship. During their trek—sometimes together, sometimes apart—they encountered blisters, endured hours under the scorching sun, and navigated the complexities of solitude versus companionship, all while experiencing the life-changing nature of the Camino pilgrimage. Let’s dive into our discussion.

Aislyn: Thank you, Andrew, and welcome to Unpacked. We’re thrilled to have you join us today.

Andrew: It's great to be here with you.

Aislyn: Today, we’re excited to discuss your latest book, Walking with Sam, which I’ve thoroughly enjoyed over the past few weeks.

I’ve only had the chance to read excerpts from Jack Hitt’s Off the Road, but the blend of candidness and humor he brings is also a defining trait of your new book. I found it both amusing and deeply resonant, prompting reflections on my own family dynamics. How did you manage to intertwine all these elements while writing the book?

Andrew: Well, I’ve been a travel writer for about 20 years, and that’s a space where I feel naturally at home on the page. I aimed to weave together three main elements: first, the physical journey itself; second, the emotional experiences I shared with my son while walking the Camino, along with my own reflections on my father, as this book is very much a father-son narrative; and third, I wanted to incorporate the rich history of the Camino. By braiding these distinct strands, I hoped to create a cohesive narrative where each part enhances and leads into the others.

Aislyn: It really came together beautifully. I don’t want to reveal too much of the premise since we want our listeners to pick up the book. But could you give a brief overview of what inspired you to undertake a second pilgrimage on the Camino?

Andrew: Sure! Should we clarify what the Camino is? I assume most people are familiar with it, but...

Aislyn: Absolutely, go ahead.

Andrew: I first learned about the Camino through Jack Hitt’s book, Off the Road, which details his experiences. The Camino is an ancient pilgrimage route.

It dates back to the eighth century when the Catholic Church announced that the bones of St. James the Apostle had been discovered in the far west of the Iberian Peninsula. Anyone who made the journey there would have half their time in purgatory reduced, which sounds like a good deal, right? But I think the real motivation behind it was more about reclaiming land, as Islam had taken control of the Iberian Peninsula, and the Catholic Church sought to regain it.

In essence, what they were conveying was: "While you’re trekking across Spain to cleanse your soul, why not also drive out those pesky Moors?" It was all about the Christian reconquest of Spain, which sparked the Crusades and involved the Knights Templar and all that bloody history.

So, I believe it was more about that aspect. And honestly, the Catholic Church has since retracted many claims about St. James, suggesting he probably never set foot in Spain at all.

However, the Camino has a rich and fascinating history. Along the way, you'll find magnificent churches, including ancient Roman structures dating back to the eighth and ninth centuries, which are truly remarkable.

But what was the original question?

Aislyn: I was curious if you could share why you chose to take this journey with your son—your second time doing so, essentially.

Andrew: Oh, the reason I wanted to undertake it a second time—

Aislyn: Yes, yes.

Andrew: —well, I did the Camino 25 years ago, and it was truly transformative for me. It shed light on many things—uh, I remember having a pivotal moment in a wheat field during the journey. There’s a stretch known as the High Meseta, which is essentially a high desert plateau, and it involves days of walking through endless wheat fields. This part is notorious for playing tricks on a walker’s mind. Don Quixote spent a lot of time in the southern Meseta, and you can see why he was tilting at windmills. I actually had a sobbing episode right in that wheat field all those years ago.

In that moment, I experienced a clarity about how much fear had been influencing my life without my realizing it until that point. I had never recognized fear as a factor in my existence until I first felt its absence on the Camino. That revelation truly shifted my perspective on life and how I navigate the world.

Of course, fear doesn’t just vanish once you identify it, but acknowledging it diminishes its overpowering grip on you. This insight was a profound revelation for me, and it ultimately changed my life. It ignited my passion for traveling the world and is the reason I became a travel writer—all stemming from that single moment on the Camino.

I had always wanted to walk the Camino again, but I knew I didn’t want to rush back into it. Eventually, I thought I might never get the chance. Time was slipping by, and I worried I would miss it forever. Then my son turned 19 and was beginning to leave home. One of my greatest regrets is that I left home at 17 and never looked back, resulting in a strained relationship with my father throughout his life and into my adulthood.

I realized this was a significant loss for me, and I didn’t want the same to happen with my children. Unfortunately, I didn’t have a clear model for fostering an adult relationship with my child. Given that my first experience on the Camino was so grounding and revealing, I thought it might be valuable to share that journey with my son if he was open to it.

To my surprise, he was willing to join me. This journey was about re-establishing our relationship as more of equals rather than just a parent and child. I have no desire to be my son’s buddy; I will always be his father.

One of the most significant outcomes was that I genuinely started to see him, and he began to see me as well, rather than just viewing each other through the lens of our roles. At one point in the book, he mentions how challenging it is to see your parents as real people.

I think this perspective applies to our kids as well. In many ways, our children resemble us, leading us to perceive them as younger versions of ourselves, which is not the case. One of the insights I gained during our walk was that Sam responded to situations in ways that were distinctly different from mine. It struck me that he is his own person.

Recognizing that he is his own person was pivotal for us. You can’t truly honor that understanding until you see it. This newfound awareness allowed us to create space for love and trust between us.

Aislyn: It’s incredibly powerful, and I’m curious how the experience of the walk has influenced your life since then. Have you noticed changes in your relationship over these five weeks?

Andrew: Absolutely. I’ve shifted from simply advising Sam to truly advocating for him. It’s not about imposing my views but rather expressing, 'I’m here to support you in the best way I know how, and you can accept it or reject it. I’m your father, and this is how I approach it.'

He recognizes this as my way of advocating for him, regardless of whether he agrees—take it or leave it. I’m not just telling him what to do; I’m respecting him by sharing my perspective, which opens up the possibility for him to come to me and say, 'Dad, I’ve got something to discuss.'

During the Camino, I experienced the greatest luxury you can have with adult children: time. Normally, when he’s rushing out the door, I might ask, 'Hey Sam, want to grab sushi for dinner?' and he’d respond, 'Sure,' and then it’s back to his busy life.

On the Camino, time was truly on our side. If I tried to sit my son down for a serious talk, it wouldn’t get us very far. But once we were on the move, he would eventually open up. Each day would begin with silence from me, and then, whether it was after five minutes or an hour, he’d say, 'So anyway, I was thinking...' and the conversation would flow. He was navigating significant issues in his life during our walk, and I simply waited for him to share.

Not needing to have all the answers, solutions, or parental guidance was a huge relief for him. For me, the challenge lay in keeping my mouth shut and just listening.

Aislyn: I noticed how often you managed to hold back and simply listen, instead of voicing your thoughts right away.

Andrew: Absolutely. I recognized that we had the luxury of time. If I had only 15 minutes with him, I might listen and then offer my thoughts right away. But knowing we had the journey ahead allowed me to let things unfold. People don’t want to be lectured; that’s not how we learn.

Aislyn: Especially at that age, right? You really want to work through your own issues.

Andrew: Absolutely! I like to think of myself as a solid safety net behind my son, much like a backstop in a Little League game. I’m here for him; he can step out into the world, and when he looks back, he’ll see I’m right here, supporting him. It’s vital to know that someone has your back in life. I didn’t have that feeling when I was younger; I often felt isolated. It’s a delicate balance—allowing them the freedom to explore while also reassuring them, 'I’m right here.'

Aislyn: Yes, absolutely.

Andrew: There are moments when you want to say, 'Hey, why not make a different choice?' But you know—

Aislyn: One of your friends from the Camino, James, also reflected on that towards the end of the book, right? He talked about the essence of a father-son relationship.

Andrew: The Camino is full of metaphors—some quite simple and obvious. As you approach Santiago, you walk across Spain to Santiago de Compostela in the northwest, which is about 50 miles from the sea. Many pilgrims choose to continue their journey beyond Santiago to a place called Finisterre, located right on the coast.

I had no intention or desire to do that at either point; my aim was Santiago, and that was enough for me. However, Sam mentioned, 'I’m going to walk to Finisterre,' which struck me as a wonderfully rich metaphor. As parents, we truly want our children to surpass us, don’t we?

If you’ve done your job well, the goal is to prepare them to achieve more than you have—whether that’s being the first in the family to attend college or medical school. The fact that he chose to walk beyond me to the sea during our journey felt deeply significant and impactful, and I cherished that moment.

Aislyn: Yes, it was unexpected! I thought you might choose to accompany him, but I love that you didn’t, allowing him to have his own conclusion.

Andrew: Part of me did want to go, but I also recognized that it wasn’t my journey. Even if I had the desire, I wouldn’t have gone. I wanted to sit down and rest, but watching him set off was akin to sending a child off to school. When I walked him to the start of the trail that morning in the dark, tears started flowing as I turned to head back alone.

It felt like, 'Oh my God, I haven’t experienced this kind of solitude since I was in third grade, walking to school.' Parenting is such a strange journey, isn’t it?

Aislyn: How have you observed the impact of the Camino on Sam since your journey? It seems to have influenced you deeply for many years.

Andrew: I notice a newfound solidity and understanding within him that I hadn’t recognized before. As I mentioned in the book, Sam struggled immensely in school; he was not the model student. If you don’t fit neatly into the educational mold, you often get overlooked or judged.

They tend to blame you for that, failing to truly see you. Ultimately, what we all desire in life is to be acknowledged, right? Sam didn’t feel recognized in school, much like I didn’t. The message you receive when you don’t fit into that mold is that something is wrong with you, and I believe that genuinely affected him, just as it affected me. Even now, all these years later, every September, I still think, 'Thank God I don’t have to return to school.' I still have strong feelings against elitist academia.

It really irritates me because it taps into an insecurity within me. However, I think Sam began to feel a sense of legitimacy; he realized he was enough and whole. The act of physically walking can’t be taken from you. You earn your journey across the land and into your own self, and that’s something no one can diminish.

And then you come to the understanding that other people's opinions don’t matter. 'I accomplished this. It belongs to me, and your thoughts are irrelevant.' Not in a confrontational manner, but rather in a way that highlights how unimportant their opinions are because I know my own experience, and there’s immense value in that understanding.

Aislyn: There were several moments when you or others mentioned walking your own Camino, and I found that perspective intriguing. It highlights the idea that while many people have undertaken this journey, each person's experience is unique within that shared space.

Andrew: As I described in the book, during my first walk, I met someone on the Camino who brought along a friend of hers who had also walked it. I didn’t know him well, but we had been traveling the same route on the same days.

He shared photos and stories from his journey, and it felt as if he had been on a completely different adventure, even though we were traversing the same paths. I hardly recognized anything from his tales or pictures, which was quite strange.

This experience made me realize, many years ago, that not only on the Camino but in life, everyone has their own distinct experience. Who are we to pass judgment? That's what you learn; that's the essence of the phrase 'walk your own Camino.'

You never know what someone else is facing or why they are on this journey. Many people walk the Camino because they find themselves at a crossroads in life, whether they are aware of it or not. It's not something typical in our culture, so you really ought to mind your own business.

Aislyn: Indeed, those experiences can occur both on the trail and off it, really.

Andrew: Absolutely. The Camino is rich with metaphors for life, overflowing with them, you know?

Aislyn: Yes. You shared numerous memories, impressions, and lessons from your first walk that have stayed with you. Since it has been a couple of years since your second journey, I’m curious about the memories or impressions from this latest experience that have lingered with you.

Andrew: It’s fascinating how memory works. I thought I recalled everything from my first Camino, but I soon realized that memory can be deceptive. We often reshape our memories to fit the narrative we need, whether consciously or unconsciously, to justify and make sense of our experiences. When I walked the second time, visiting familiar places, they felt so different. I’d think, “This isn’t what I remember.” Sure, buildings change over time, but it felt deeper than that. I remembered so little specifically.

While a few spots matched my memories, many were surprisingly altered. However, what I’ve gained from this journey is a sense of trusting our own experiences and realizing that they are sufficient. We often find ourselves unconsciously striving or wanting something more, feeling a bit uncertain.

As a result, we tend to compensate and do what we must, you know? There’s a certain awareness that we often overlook, but on the Camino, you truly begin to embody that awareness. Your entire day revolves around walking—seeking food and finding a place to rest.

On the Camino, securing food and accommodation isn't a challenge. Unlike the Appalachian Trail, where you might carry everything you need on your back and require specific knowledge, the Camino is straightforward. All you need are comfortable walking shoes and a willingness to go. So, I believe we can indeed trust ourselves, which is quite significant.

Aislyn: Given your extensive travels, I’m curious about your thoughts on why walking, in particular, holds such unique power. I mean walking long distances, not just a quick stroll.

Andrew: I believe even a simple stroll can profoundly impact us. We were designed to move at a walking pace, which we seldom do in our modern lives. I think our brains function optimally at this pace, in sync with the rhythm of walking. That’s why so many writers have shared beautiful insights about how walking is known to spark creativity.

Walking is recognized for alleviating anxiety and much more. I once thought of it merely as the slowest means of transportation, but now I see walking as the experience itself. It aligns with the natural rhythm of our bodies, which are intricately connected to our minds. The Camino, in particular, helps illuminate your mental patterns.

Walking certainly reveals my mental patterns, as well as my emotional cycles, in ways that may lead you to think life is happening to you. In reality, it’s about your own emotional and mental rhythms, often swayed by hunger or fatigue.

It’s not the external events that shape our experiences but rather our internal states that color our perceptions. While significant events—both catastrophic and uplifting—can impact us, it’s primarily our interpretation of those experiences that drives our reactions.

On the Camino, this realization becomes clear. You’re never truly bored; instead, it’s endlessly fascinating. You might think, "That sounds dull," but that idea never crossed my mind. Sure, there are moments of exhaustion when you might wish to give up and head home, but the option to do so is always there.

It's crucial to acknowledge that you can go home whenever you want. You could hop in a taxi, just like Roger did, but the question is, is that what you truly desire? If your answer is yes, then go ahead and get in. But if not, then you have to confront that choice and decide what to do next.

I might ramble a bit, but that’s another gift of walking—it gives your mind space to wander. Walking with Sam, there were days when a conversation that could have been wrapped up in ten minutes stretched over two or three hours, filled with moments of comfortable silence. We’d sometimes fall into our thoughts, only to resurface and pick up the conversation later, which is a luxury you can only enjoy when you walk long distances with someone.

Aislyn: It’s reminiscent of a long road trip, don’t you think? Nowadays, with our phones and various distractions, we miss out on those deep conversations. And it’s fascinating—your discussions ranged from the space-time continuum to flaming hot Cheetos.

Truly fascinating.

Andrew: Absolutely! It’s interesting how some people on the Camino choose to leave their phones behind and consciously avoid distractions—no music or entertainment. We, however, didn’t feel the need to impose any restrictions like that. If that’s what works for them, that’s great!

But for us, my thoughts and processes aren’t so delicate. If I need to blast some Meatloaf to power up a steep hill, I think that’s perfectly acceptable!

Plus, that also sparks all kinds of memories and gets my mind flowing in different directions.

Aislyn: You brought up Taxi Cab Roger, and I’m curious about the people you met along the way. From what I understand, the Camino Francés, the route you took, is known for its social atmosphere, and you encountered a variety of interesting characters. How significant was that social aspect for you?

Andrew: It’s true! The Camino Francés is definitely the most traveled route, sort of the main pathway, and that’s the one I’ve walked twice. During my first journey and this one with Sam, I found that for the first two weeks, we were pretty solitary—just the two of us.

However, about two weeks in, we naturally began to include others in our experience. We started meeting people for dinner and it was wonderful to share that sense of camaraderie. It provided a delightful diversion and a welcome relief.

It was also heartwarming to witness others evolving on their journeys. So, yes, connecting with other people is a significant aspect of the Camino. You have the freedom to choose your level of solitude or social interaction while walking.

Aislyn: The book presents such a sincere depiction of both you and your son. Has Sam had a chance to read it? What was his reaction to it?

Andrew: Well, he hasn’t read the book yet. I, um—

Aislyn: Oh, that’s amusing.

Andrew: I told him, “Sam, I’m submitting this book. You might want to give it a glance.” But he’s not really an avid reader, you know? He read the first few pages and just flipped through it. He did, however, record the audiobook with me, so he voices all his own lines in the book.

Aislyn: Really? Oh, that’s amazing! I’ll definitely have to check that out.

Andrew: So all of his lines are, you know, approved by Sam. As for the rest of the content, we’ll see. I think he’s just waiting for the audiobook, like he did with my other books. He has listened to the audiobooks, but he hasn’t read the texts themselves.

Aislyn: That sounds fantastic! So, would you consider doing this again with him or perhaps with one of your other children?

Andrew: Absolutely, if I knew my kids were up for it. I suppose I would have to! Though my daughter has mentioned she’d prefer to go to Paris instead. So—

Aislyn: So, no Camino for her then.

Andrew: But yes, I would definitely do it again. It’s an interesting situation because right after we finished, Sam was eager to do it again immediately, and honestly, I’d love to set off tomorrow.

Yet, there’s this mix of emotions that hits when it’s all over—relief, exhaustion, joy, pride in having completed it, and a touch of sadness that it’s done. That particular moment with my son won’t happen again. We could walk the Camino again, but it would never be quite the same experience.

It would certainly be a different experience, but I believe some time is necessary before attempting it again. Sam mentioned, “Dad, let’s wait 25 more years.” And I told him, “Come on, we need to do this sooner than that!” I’d absolutely love to go again—

Aislyn: That sounds great!

Andrew: —whether it’s with him, one of my other kids, or my wife. I genuinely think it’s essential to choose your Camino partner wisely if you plan to go with someone else.

Aislyn: Really?

Andrew: Yes, because it’s such a significant experience. The short answer is yes, I would love to, but I feel it’s important to take some time to reflect and process everything that happened before doing it again.

You know, these insights tend to emerge gradually when you're moving at a walking pace.

Aislyn: Would you say you’re still reflecting on your most recent experience?

Andrew: Absolutely.

Aislyn: That’s intriguing. I wanted to ask if you have any advice for others thinking about embarking on a pilgrimage like this. Choosing a good partner seems like valuable advice—any other tips for those seeking?

Andrew: I always tell people the same thing about any form of travel: Just go. Don’t overthink it. Just go. You’ll find that walking the Camino can be more affordable than living at home for a month; it really doesn’t cost much.

You can live quite inexpensively on the Camino. It’s not about the money. If you can manage to take time off work, that’s another story. I often think that fear is the main reason people hesitate to travel, and that’s understandable. However, I truly believe it’s the primary barrier for many.

The Camino doesn’t require much at all. You don’t need to be good with directions; there are yellow arrows marked on the ground, rocks, and trees that will guide you across the entire country. You don’t need a map or anything fancy, just a decent pair of day hiking shoes.

I would advise against wearing leather hiking boots. You really just need lightweight walking shoes. Carry minimal gear—two pairs of shorts and a couple of T-shirts are all you need. Anything else can be bought along the way if necessary. It demands very little apart from your commitment to the journey.

You can get in shape as you walk; there's no need to train beforehand for the Camino. You can go at your own pace and take your time.

Aislyn: That’s great to hear! You’ve mentioned the idea of taking rest days and pausing for a few days, which is really helpful. I would have thought you’d need to prepare extensively for such a long walk. In a time when travel comes with so many challenges—overtourism, climate change—why do you think it remains important to keep traveling?

Andrew: I believe it's one of the best gifts we can give our children: to raise them as global citizens. As Mark Twain famously said, travel is fatal to prejudice, bigotry, and narrow-mindedness, and that sentiment truly captures its essence.

I'm proud to be American; I wouldn't want to be anything else. I love living in this country, but I also see America as a fearful nation. Many of our decisions stem from fear. While not all fear-driven choices are negative, I believe that most of my poor decisions have originated from fear. As a country, we often make regrettable choices because we are sold a distorted view of the world, and I think it's crucial for people to venture out and discover the truth for themselves.

Travel transforms you. It's like tossing a stone into a pond, creating ripples that spread outwards. You return from your journeys changed, inspiring others to explore, and they, in turn, return transformed. It creates a chain reaction of exploration and change.

I genuinely believe that travel represents a significant hope for our world because it helps us realize our shared humanity. Everyone desires a good life for their children, security, and enough food on the table. At our core, we all want similar things.

Personally, travel has served as the university of my life. The more I journey away from home, the more I discover my true self. Stepping outside our comfort zones is one of the greatest gifts we can give ourselves, and asking for assistance can lead to profound personal growth. This sense of wonder that emerges while traveling is truly extraordinary.

In our everyday lives, we often feel jaded, cynical, exhausted, bitter, and angry, thinking we have everything figured out. We believe we know best, but once we step outside and hit the road, we realize how little we truly understand and how vulnerable we are. A profound shift occurs when we ask someone for help; it humbles us and reminds us of our place.

In my experience, I’ve never encountered anyone who has refused to help.

Aislyn: Absolutely.

Andrew: Returning to the idea of wonder for a moment, it fosters a sense of innocence and open-heartedness that is truly magical.

When you unexpectedly turn a corner and catch your first glimpse of the Trevi Fountain, it takes your breath away. You exclaim, “Wow, look at that!” and then you turn to your wife, sharing that same awe in her eyes. In that moment, you both reach out to hold hands, and you see the youthful love you once knew in her gaze, just as she sees the wonder in you, rather than the weary man she shares breakfast with. This connection is what travel is all about—connecting with ourselves, the world, and those we love, or anyone we are exploring with. Within that connection lies immense energy.

I just returned on Monday from Botswana with my nine-year-old son. I had been there for a story, and I brought him along for an unforgettable experience.

It was often quite uncomfortable and not at all pleasurable. There were moments like, “Okay, we need to dig a hole and use it.” He was taken aback, saying, “What? I’m not doing that!” And I had to explain, “This is what we have to do right now.” Despite the challenges, he learned to adapt, and even though it wasn’t enjoyable for him, it was a significant moment. Later, when he called his mom, she asked, “How are the elephants?” He proudly responded, “I pooped in the ground.” That was a huge milestone for him.

Aislyn: That certainly is a big deal, and it’s quite empowering.

Andrew: Absolutely! That’s the essence of travel. We find our place in the world, and the world welcomes us more than halfway each time.

Aislyn: There’s this delightful sense of disorientation that comes with travel. It can feel unsettling at first, but eventually, you become addicted to the thrill of not knowing what comes next.

Andrew: Absolutely! We’re in a wonderful position when we embrace uncertainty.

Aislyn: I agree. You've often discussed traveling with others, but in your 2012 book, The Longest Way Home, you mentioned that solo travel helps you feel at home with yourself. I’m curious how your perspective on solo travel has evolved over the years.

Andrew: My view has only deepened. I truly believe solo travel is the best way to spend your time. Everyone should try traveling alone at least once. For me, solo travel is like an intense crash course in self-discovery—it's—

Aislyn: Absolutely.

Andrew: —it’s incredible. It’s not so much about the destinations; it’s about your inner journey, where you find yourself and gain insight into who you are. I honestly think there’s no greater gift you can give yourself than to travel alone. However, many people shy away from solo travel due to fears about their personal safety, which is understandable.

I often feel that the streets of Paris, London, or Rome can be just as safe as New York City, where I live. Another reason people avoid solo travel is the fear of loneliness. I think that’s unfortunate because we spend a lot of time alone, and it's essential to learn how to be at peace with ourselves. Many people make poor choices simply to avoid being alone, clinging to others or things that may not be right for them. It’s perfectly fine to dine alone at a restaurant; trust me, no one is watching you.

Aislyn: Exactly.

Andrew: We often believe they are, but the truth is, they’re not.

Aislyn: Yes! Enjoying a drink while reading a book and having dinner is one of my favorite activities.

Andrew: That sounds absolutely heavenly, doesn’t it?

Aislyn: I totally get that. Sometimes, I just want to tell people to back off and leave me be.

Andrew: That definitely sounds like the introvert in you talking, but—

Aislyn: Oh, absolutely.

Andrew: —you’re definitely speaking my language there. I firmly believe that solo travel is where the real magic happens. Just don’t let my family hear that, okay?

Aislyn: Absolutely. It seems like you find a good balance. What was your most recent solo trip?

Andrew: [Silence] That’s how serious it is. It’s been quite some time since I’ve done that.

Aislyn: Sounds like you might be overdue for it.

Andrew: Yeah, I think so.

Aislyn: You were the editor at large for National Geographic Traveler for several years, and you still travel and write extensively. Where do you currently stand in your travel writing journey?

Andrew: I don’t write nearly as many articles as I used to. I’ve shifted more toward writing books, which I really enjoy. I prefer having fewer opinions to consider in my work, and with books, there’s essentially only one perspective to focus on.

Aislyn: Absolutely.

Andrew: I truly appreciate that. Whether it’s good or bad, it falls on me. However, I believe that travel magazines have largely become obsolete. Dinogo is one of the few remaining quality publications. Many others have transformed into lifestyle magazines, and there are hardly any genuine travel magazines or travel sections in newspapers anymore.

I started my journey in travel writing in 2004, and that decade felt like the final flourish of the genre. I absolutely love traveling and writing about it, so yes, I still find joy in it. While I don’t pursue it as aggressively as I once did, entering the field marked a significant creative revival for me during a time when I had been struggling.

Aislyn: That’s intriguing.

Andrew: My acting career took off quite rapidly when I was younger, but then it plateaued in a way that lost its appeal for me.

When I stumbled upon travel writing, it was a natural fit since travel had such a profound impact on my life. I instinctively understood two things about this craft: first, that travel is transformative and essential, and second, that the focus should be on storytelling rather than simply promoting a destination.

The second insight came from my experiences in acting and directing, which emphasized the importance of narrative. In directing, I always asked myself: what’s the story of this episode, this scene, this shot? The focus was consistently on the story itself. I realized that no matter the destination I was writing about, the key was to uncover the narrative behind it.

For any location I cover, the question is, what story are you sharing about it? Writing about the Camino, for instance, was the ideal backdrop to explore the emotional themes of parenting and the bond between fathers and sons. The Camino served as a perfect medium for that exploration, and I knew that each element would complement the other.

Aislyn: Absolutely. Are there any travel writers or specific travel books, or even just writers in general, that inspire you?

Andrew: Without a doubt, Paul Theroux’s books significantly influenced my life. His travel writings, particularly The Old Patagonian Express, left a lasting impression on me. The notion of venturing far, traveling alone, disconnecting for a while—this concept was a revelation that prompted me to embrace that lifestyle.

That journey truly inspired me to embark on my first Camino, just as much as Jack Hitt’s book did. This philosophy of traveling solo has guided me through many adventures since then. I find his writings profoundly impactful. Additionally, Pico Iyer is another wonderful travel writer I admire, though I don't read as much travel literature these days.

Aislyn: Thank you so much for joining us today! It’s been a pleasure chatting with you, and congratulations again on the book. I thoroughly enjoyed it.

Andrew: Thank you! It’s been a joy to talk with you. Discussing travel is always refreshing and invigorating.

Aislyn: Absolutely! I feel like I need to leave right now.

Andrew: I know! But honestly, the only thing better than talking about travel is actually experiencing it, right?

Aislyn: I know! Lately, I’ve been feeling quite restless and eager to travel.

Andrew: Where are you headed?

Aislyn: I’m going to France in June and then to Wisconsin for a panel discussion. Also, I had a dream trip planned for this year that was postponed due to COVID, but I still want to walk the Kumano Kodo in Japan, which is a pilgrimage trail. So that’s the plan—

Andrew: How long does that trail take?

Aislyn: It varies; you can customize it to your liking. Some people complete it in about a week, but I’m hoping to take two weeks for the trek and spend a total of three weeks to a month in Japan. I really can’t wait!

Andrew: Absolutely! Regarding the Camino, many people tend to start walking it gradually, often just completing the last five days.

Aislyn: Right, right.

Andrew: You receive a compostela, which is a certificate of completion, after walking a hundred kilometers. However, I believe that the longer you walk, the more profound the rewards become as you gradually wear down your defenses.

Aislyn: Definitely.

Andrew: The longer you walk, the richer the experience. Those who only manage the last five days, that’s perfectly fine if that’s all the time you have. More power to them! But I feel that the true treasure lies in the gradual wearing down of your barriers—that's where the real gems are found.

Aislyn: I have to say, finishing your book made me really want to experience that journey myself. I’m now inspired to tackle the longer five-week, 500-mile route, which I haven’t done before. Thank you for that motivation! The idea of wearing down and seeing where my thoughts and emotions lead me is both appealing and intriguing.

Andrew: It indeed reconstructs you in a way that's incredibly solid, inviting, and desirable. I noticed that as the other pilgrims approached the end of their journey, especially when they were about a hundred miles out, they seemed to hit their rhythm. They weren’t close enough to start feeling anxious about what lay ahead; they were truly in the moment. I saw them blooming, and it created such an uplifting atmosphere. Reaching around León and just beyond is particularly wonderful. You've inspired me to consider going back myself!

Aislyn: That's great to hear! I also feel like you should take credit for the term ‘credit card pilgrim’—

Andrew: Ah, that’s an interesting concept! The idea of the ‘credit card pilgrim’ refers to how along the Camino, there are these albergues, which are essentially dormitory-style accommodations. Originally, they were established and managed by churches in every town as part of the religious pilgrimage.

These albergues typically have large rooms with bunk beds where you could spend a night for just a couple of dollars or euros. They still operate today. However, being 60 years old now—which is hard to believe—I find I don’t need to deal with people climbing over me to reach the top bunk or waiting in line for the restroom.

Aislyn: Yeah, definitely.

Andrew: And I’m thinking, you know, 'What am I even doing? I have nothing to prove here. I’m just going for a walk, right?' So I decided to embrace that and stay at this cozy little pension for just 20 euros a night, enjoying my own bathroom, you know?

Andrew: There were definitely nights when we stayed in albergues with other travelers. It’s a delightful experience, but you don’t sleep as well. And, you know, for me, letting go of that kind of thinking is essential. I mean, who says it has to be done a certain way? There are as many ways to do it as there are people, right?

Aislyn: It really opened my eyes because part of my initial resistance stemmed from my experiences with hostel travel. I’ve done that a lot. Honestly, I’m not keen on doing it again. So, realizing that there are other options is refreshing, you know?

Andrew: I completely agree with you, my friend. I don’t have anything to prove anymore. I’m not 22, and I don’t need to tough it out like that anymore—you know what I mean?

Aislyn: Absolutely.

Andrew: It’s not about that. If it feels right for you, then that’s fantastic. But for me, it’s not what it was really about.

Aislyn: No, it was a lovely reminder of the many ways we can seek adventure, learn about the world, and discover more about ourselves, for sure.

Andrew: You know, the people who criticize you for choosing a comfy pension over a cramped dorm aren’t the kind of folks you need in your life anyway.

Aislyn: Definitely not. Thank you so much! Is there anything else you’d like to share?

Andrew: I could definitely go on for hours, but I’m all set. Thanks a lot!

Andrew: Sounds good.

Aislyn: Congratulations, and I wish you all the best on your travels!

Andrew: Thank you! You too!

Aislyn: I have to say, after our conversation, I really feel inspired to tackle the full trail myself. I’ll keep you posted if I go for it. As for Andrew, we’ll include links to his new book and his previous works, as well as his project Spin the Globe, in the show notes. You can find more of Andrew’s writing at andrewmccarthy.com and follow him on Twitter and Instagram @andrewmccarthy. (Be sure to check out Instagram for some great photos from Andrew and Sam’s Camino journey.)

If you’re feeling inspired to embark on a long walk, we’ll provide some helpful resources in our show notes.

Ready for more insights? Check out Dinogo.com and don’t forget to follow us on Instagram and Twitter at @Dinogomedia. If you enjoyed today’s journey, I hope you’ll join us again for more amazing stories. Subscribing makes it easy! You can listen to Unpacked on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, or your preferred podcast platform. Also, please take a moment to rate and review the show; it helps fellow travelers discover it. This season, we want your input: Is there a travel dilemma, trend, or topic you’d like us to delve into? Reach out at Dinogo.com/feedback or email us at unpacked@Dinogo.com.

You’ve been listening to Unpacked, a production of Dinogo Media. This podcast is created by Aislyn Greene and Nikki Galteland, with music composed by Chris Colin.

And remember: The world can be complex. We’re here to help you navigate it.