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Amit Janco

Amit Janco

Bali, Indonesia

Amit Janco writes stories, makes art, and practices yoga. While walking the Camino de Santiago in 2013, Amit developed—as all upstanding human beings should—an unexpected fondness for donkeys. She also discovered—as all fortunate human beings can—a resolve, strength and healing she’d previously thought out of reach. Amit blogs at and dabbles in social-mediaesque things @amitjanco. Her memoir, titled (Un)bound Together, is her first book.

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About the author

Born in Montreal, Amit Janco is a writer, artist, serial walker and yoga practitioner living in Bali, Indonesia. She’s also been a media producer, teacher, and public investigator who tracked down missing heirs around the globe. Amit has contributed to Travel + Leisure, Journeywoman and Inspired Bali. She has trekked in the Himalayas, ridden horseback through the Mongolian steppe, and floated in the Dead Sea. After surviving a precipitous and devastating drop from a bridge in Cambodia, she discovered resilience and the benefits of an 'upright' life—including improved posture. Amit blogs at and dabbles in social-mediaesque pursuits @amitjanco. (Un)bound Together is her first book.
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(Un)bound Together

A Journey to the End of the Earth (and Beyond)

One woman's search for healing and peace of mind on El Camino de Santiago - with two donkeys, a wobbly cart, a selectively-mute Portuguese hermit and a faithful German pilgrim.

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On the cusp of turning 50, and still rebounding from a dramatic and near-fatal tumble off a bridge, Amit Janco embarked on a walk across Spain, heading not only towards the end of the earth—but, hopefully, to regain a body freed of chronic pain. After the first week’s happy adventure with a mutt in tow and two donkeys hauling her belongings, all hopes of a peaceful promenade dissolved when Amit’s new schlepping companion gave her the cold shoulder.

With the company of a revolving cast of pilgrims and animals, Amit grappled with a sitting disability, ditched her hiking boots in favor of sandals, crossed paths with quirky characters, and discovered a human species unique to the Camino; the people she came to call Stagers. She developed an obsession with wild blackberries, fended off snoring pilgrims and was haunted by the story of a father who walked in mourning over his murdered daughter.

Desperate to distance herself from a dysfunctional tree-hugging pilgrim who had volunteered to carry her gear—but instead wreaked havoc on her serenity—Amit found herself unexpectedly wading through an interior landscape riddled with loose threads and long-buried secrets. But, thanks to the solace of nature, coupled with the comic relief and spiritual sustenance offered by a German social worker—who wove in and out of Amit’s weeks’-long hike—her burden was ultimately lightened.

(Un)Bound, Together: A Journey to the End of the Earth (and Beyond) is a testament to healing as a continual process along a path of unpredictable hurdles and revelations.



A close brush with death lands me on my back. My new normal includes pain, a pair of invisible impairments - and a renewed desire to walk the Camino de Santiago; a goal that may have once been within easy reach now reveals a fair share of obstacles. But with faith and unshakable determination, I steam ahead without looking back.

Chapter 1: Getting in Gear

What it takes to gather together the gear – which might mean locating a Sherpa instead of a taxi, or a wheelie device that will haul my backpack over the long road ahead.

Chapter 2: The Pamplona Connection

While waiting to begin: Taking stock of this crazy idea; gauging distances, doing a trial walk and contemplating aborting. Meeting my German leader and his pack: a frisky dog and two donkeys.

Chapter 3: Meeting Mani

A solo German traveler pokes her head in the door – and ends up joining the fray.

Chapter 4: Gratitudes

The ease of feeling thankful when walking with friendly pilgrims (and other creatures), amidst magnificent surroundings. The challenge of sustaining that gratitude when cracks appear.

Chapter 5: The Weight of Whine

The aches and anxieties of pilgrims with heavy packs, tight boots and first aid kits. I watch, wait and wonder when my turn will come.

Chapter 6: Road to Wellness

For all the Spaniards’ crises and pilgrim traumas, the Camino has a gift: healers, massagers, meditation in droves. Revisiting my own trauma comes as a surprise.

Chapter 7: Das (Left) Foot

Much ado about socks and scissors. I give up on the boots – in favor of sandals. Blisters begone! My feet breathe again.

Chapter 8: Saint Santi

One obedient dog – beloved by all. A savior, sniffer, dowser (in training?), leader of the pack who will not let us go astray.

Chapter 9: Sit Happens

All around me, a whole lot of sit happens. On chairs. On stoops. On bicycles. Finding my away around the sobering reality of how (and where) not to sit – while everyone else does.

Chapter 10: Abandonada

When people and donkeys leave, when cities empty out, and I find myself with time to spare in between walking gigs.

Chapter 11: Wild and Crazy

Spotting Cheryl Strayed on the floor. Hearing Hebrew on the road. Wrangling with Spanish when Indonesian is on the brain.

Chapter 12: Meeting the Juan(s)

A concealed Carrix is unloaded and revealed. The (real) Juan is revealed as well. Something is amiss.

Chapter 13: The Blister Brigade

Walking with a man whose lips are sealed. Meanwhile, chatty pilgrims shed packs and boots, revealing blisters and sores. Moaning gives way to stitching.

Chapter 14: In Search Of

When things start to fall apart, the seeking begins. Nature is a balm, in all its guises. A tapas feast. New friends  – even when a fierce lust grips them. A festival celebrating dogs. And a disco.

Chapter 15: Go On!

Walking on egg shells. Silence reigns between Juan-Do and me – interrupted only by the occasional muttering.

Chapter 16: In Wine Country

A  Frenchwoman makes (unreasonable) demands. A group of British women chatter non-stop, drunk on the scenery – or wine. Juan-Do falls dozes off. We must have reached Rioja’s vast vineyard terrains.

Chapter 17: Camino Candy

An early riser stops on the path, a casualty of chafing. The blister brigade and assorted pilgrims-in-pain are well-armed.

Chapter 18: A Thicket of Perplexities

Hints of misunderstanding. Go on! A metal pot clangs. Go on! (Or go astray!) Distractions – like a Japanese pilgrim who mistakes my sandals for bare feet – help.

Chapter 19: SNORPS

Among the peculiar trials of a pilgrim’s life: the portrait (and enigma) of a snore. Solutions are fashioned from a wild, dazed and sleep-deprived imagination.

Chapter 20: The Stagers

A man named Brierley. A guru to some. His followers lead and leap. They march by – as I am seized by pain, and collapse onto a mat that Juan-Do unfurls.

Chapter 21: Pit Stop in Cirueña (or How We Avoided the Plague) 

When even an urgent call for rest in a tiny village turns into a day of adventure. And surprise: Manuela (Mani) shows up.

Chapter 22: The Gift of Mani

She is the peace, the comedy, the silliness, the seriousness, the grounding and (solid) faith that weaves in and out of my journey.

Chapter 23: Of Crusty Bread and Peppers

Spaniards know how to whip up delicacies – even in the unlikeliest of places – and live well. Even in times of crisis. (And even if their dogs get a raw deal.)

Chapter 24: You Get What You Need

While Juan-Do keeps his distance, my obsession with wild blackberries heightens and my morale falters.  You can’t always have what you want.

Chapter 25: El Padre del Isabel

How one day unfolds; from kvetching about a horrible meal and downing Coke against nausea, to hearing about the worst kind of loss and grief in the world.

Chapter 26: The 'Strayan

Meeting (and trying to make sense) of an obnoxious pilgrim from down under.

Chapter 27: Burgos Boot Camp

The crevice between Juan-Do and myself gnaws, strains and widens. The icy gap gets stuffed with goodies: Lunch with Mani. The laughter of Korean nuns. A sleek, modern and comfortable upper bunk. Until it feels like I've landed in the army.

Chapter 28: Overcoming Barriers

A female figure cast in bronze sits in a wheelchair. In ways that cannot be seen, she rises. The Korean nun asks why I carry so little. In ways that she cannot see, I carry. A Frenchwoman walks towards us, against the tide of pilgrims. In ways that we do not see, she is walking the right way.

Chapter 29: The Reverse Camino

When pilgrims walk in the opposite direction, what call are they heeding? What dream drives them to hike against the grain? Where are they headed? Rome. Jerusalem. Home.

Chapter 30: Hospital del Alma

The plains of Galicia – the meseta - stretch out for days. As if a fata morgana, a village appears on a hill. There is a place for a weary pilgrim to rest their heavy, perhaps burdened soul. There is a bar, music, cheese. Juan-Do will dare and do the unimaginable. He will snap out of it and we will go on as if nothing happened.

Chapter 31: Mani & The Maestro

The path continues to reveal personal quirks, human connections, an abundance of corn fields and pilgrims popping pills. We make space and time for Mani’s inaugural Reiki session.

Chapter 32: Tomorrow, You Carry

Sightings along the way (including a Braille sign for blind pilgrims) and long talks with Mani provide distraction and keep Juan-Do (and his energy field) at a safe distance. When unseen pain cannot – will not – be believed.

Chapter 33: Trail Angels

For pilgrims in pain or despair, human way-markers appear as if out of nowhere; with help and guidance all along the path: Altruistic locals. Brave pilgrims. German friends. A Viking sailor.

Chapter 34: Lights. Brierley. Action.

Where I confess to coveting Mani’s MP3 (her ‘lover’); sing with Peruvian nuns and ache from the sounds of (more) snoring pilgrims. But all that pales next to the omnipresent reminder of stagers in our midst.

Chapter 35: The Cool Camino

Walking through a tapestry of conversations with other pilgrims. Ken. Pippa. And a stodgy civil servant from Canada.

Chapter 36: Tomates

When one word is all it takes to forge an unforgettable connection with another human being. It could be tomatoes; and it could be Emergency.

Chapter 37: King of the Castle

How another rest day becomes an exploration of a tiny village; where I find hobbit-like cellars, taste-test expired (over-aged) wine, drink tea with an expat couple and dine on five-star tiramisu. As if it could not be any other way: Mani shows up. Naturally.

Chapter 38: The Plague

Bercianos; where fumigation, showers and freshly laundered clothes help mitigate the shock and oy! And where pain and generosity meld together into the most spectacular breakfast smorgasbord.

Chapter 39: Lovers

After sulking through weeks of MP3-envy, I go in search of my very own (micro-)lover in Leon. Meanwhile, Mani decides to abort her Camino.

Chapter 40: A Thin Place

After Mani walks off into the sunset, I turn to yoga, meditation, guitar music, a hot shower and fig bread. Hit by the pilgrim’s plague (bedbugs!) yet again, I now know where to seek solace, not always among people but in thin places.

Chapter 41: Barter

This is no cakewalk. Mani’s gone. Juan-Do inhabits his own universe. And a separatist-leaning Basque is itching to fall behind.

Chapter 42: Sir Pepe

With a buffer imposed between Juan-Do and myself, the grating yoke loosens. In search of a medieval castle, I stumble instead upon a paralyzed parakeet, a savior goddess and her quaint café.

Chapter 43: The Witnesses

A global phenomenon, dressed in black and white (and sometimes colours too).

Chapter 44: A Message for Frank

If you walk the Camino (ergo, life) with an open heart, some stranger might welcome you in for wine and... mushrooms.

Chapter 45: Figs

After a close brush with Korean kids’ culture, and discomfort in the company of Juan-Do, I’m comforted by a return into the soft folds of nature, with its grand four-legged animals and a yard full of figs.

Chapter 46: Magic Mushroom

The art of accepting massive (magic?) mushrooms from a handsome Italian man, and turning it into a Basque delicacy. Juan-Do engages in a less-than-gracious style of communication.

Chapter 47: (Un)Bound, Together

At times tongue-tied, at other times weary of the hard work it takes to walk with a recluse with a curious penchant for preaching, James Taylor’s lyrics come to my rescue. At least, temporarily.

Chapter 48: Castañas y Leon

Dueling with my heart, mind and body (and questions about my non-existent saint), I re-direct my attention to nature’s gifts that keep falling as if from heaven: chestnuts. Castañas.

Chapter 49: Sun Salutation

After a near-battle with Spaniards and a chilly night on the snowy peak of O Cebreiro, Juan-Do greets the morning’s rising sun in his trademark manner – minus the downward dog and headstand.

Chapter 50: The Empty Tank

When you find a way to give more than you thought you could, and push past your imagined boundaries: moving beyond the seen and unseen limits that we impose upon ourselves and others.

Chapter 51: Fonfria

Where surprise findings lie hidden behind the facades of a tiny village; and where I learn what (some) French pilgrims are made of.

Chapter 52:  A Young Buck (or Gratitude for Juan-Do)

Of saloon doors, goth-looking pilgrims and a cowboy-yahoo type that I manage to impress – very temporarily. (While Juan-Do continues to hug trees.)

Chapter 53: The Rains and Pains of Spain  

In all kinds of weather, and under all sorts of conditions, and bypassing all sorts of people (including one Russian scam artist), we march onwards and up.

Chapter 54: The Sarria Effect (And Other Mysteries)

Learning about the phenomenon of pilgrims who walk the final 100 kms to Santiago, in order to obtain the much-coveted pilgrims’ certificate (compostela).

Chapter 55: Un Poco Mas

With less than 100 kms to Santiago, what’s a few more kilometers (even if you’re awash in pain?) Pilgrim stories, blackberries and an ostrich sighting are salves for my misery.

Chapter 56: To the Max

Ditching Juan-Do (for the day) leads me to meeting Lisa in the forest. Power to the people.

Chapter 57: A Serving of Corn...and Nadal

Heading into the last stretch, the dreariness of grey skies, emptied villages and seemingly endless waves of pilgrims passing by are interrupted by sudden and surprising news flashes.

Chapter 58: Juan-Do Goes Missing

After an uneventful night, Juan-Do trashes his empty bottle among the trees, I give him hell - and he disappears.

Chapter 59: Juan-Do Goes Missing (Again)

As the distance and enmity between us deepens even further, I bolt at every change I get.

Chapter 60: A Vow of Silence

My one-day mindful withdrawal from the sounds of unpleasant interactions, followed by a final and deep immersion into a forest of eucalypti trees – where I meet Alexa.

Chapter 61: Santiago

Arriving in Santiago, where my backpack is dumped, quickly and unceremoniously, in front of a bar, for the very last time.

Chapter 62: The End of the Earth (and Beyond)

Couchsurfing with Alexa in high luxe quarters in Santiago. Walking on, with Charlotte – to Finisterre, Muxia and Fox House. On to Madrid, southward to Granada, back to Madrid – and Ground Zero, 0km, the epicenter of Spain… before going on, back home.


Coming around to face my past, seeking answers and contemplating the meaning of forgiveness.


With the #metoo and #timesup movements in high gear; with Wonder Woman breaking records; and with the New York TImes selecting, out of 13,000 applicants, a 40-year old female journalist as their 2018 guide to "52 Places in the World"; it would seem that this is the year of courageous, strong-willed and inspiring women whose pioneering works and messages are breaking new ground. I hope that my story aligns with all the insights and achievements being made by this wave of wonder-women.

(Un)bound Together will appeal to any reader who is contemplating a walk along the Camino de Santiago in Spain – or embarking on a journey of similar magnitude. According to statistics gathered by the Pilgrim's Office in Santiago in 2017, 301,006 individuals walked the Camino - more than double the number of pilgrims a decade earlier. The numbers have risen steadily over three decades, and will probably continue to do so. The 30 – 60 age group make up 55% of pilgrims, almost evenly split between men and women; 28% are under 30.

This book will also appeal to a wider and expanding demographic of travelers who seek to explore the world at a more tempered pace: An increase in accessible tourism has prompted larger numbers of  disabled travelers to explore beyond their comfort zone. According to the WHO and World Bank, more than 1 billion people worldwide - 15% of the global population - live with some form of disability. Between 2013-2015, in America alone, more than 26 million adults with disabilities traveled for pleasure and/or business, taking 73 million trips. Latest figures show that more than 300 million Americans live with a disability; with increased access - mobile devices, assisted transport, increased signage and aging but still active boomer generation - the figures for disabled travel are likely to increase into the future.

These numbers notably exclude the millions of travelers whose (physical and cognitive) limitations do not fit easily into conventional - and visible - categories of disability; nor do they include data on millions of individuals who struggle with grief, loss, depression or another variation of psychological turmoil.

Janco’s sobering and irreverent account will also appeal to spiritual seekers and change-needers - those who are in a rut, timid or fearful of turning a long-held dream into reality. According to the manager of Wellness Tourism Worldwide (WTW), travelers are increasingly seeking vacations that allow them not only to disengage from work and technology but also "to connect with one another, with nature, and with a higher purpose." 

Well-being is the new (normal) destination. The Global Wellness Institute notes that the global wellness industry, in 2015, was a $3.7 trillion market; with the Wellness Tourism segment accounting for $563 billion - the largest piece of the pie.

According to the UN World Tourism Organization, it is estimated that about 330 million tourists each year are motivated to travel by spiritual reasons. In fact, spiritual travel - which includes personal development, cultural seminars, yoga and meditation retreats, exploring alternative therapies, creative workshops, and pilgrimage among other activities - comprises an important and steadily growing segment of the international tourism market. In 2013, the  UNWTO organised the first International Conference on Spiritual Tourism for Sustainable Development. The following year, the UWTO's first International Congress on Tourism and Pilgrimages took place in Santiago de Compostela, Spain, in September 2014. My book taps into this growing trend, of travelers seeking spiritual connections and meaningful encounters.


As a long-time and active contributor to, my potential reach is close to 56,000 newsletter readers, and nearly 45,000 Twitter followers around the globe. The Journeywoman Book Club, set to launch shortly, will be a perfect platform for me to market my book to this wide audience.

I have also been invited to add a listing for my book to the "Spanish Steps" Camino Tours mailing list, comprising 10,000 subscribers.

Between my email list and Facebook friends, I have more than 2,500 friends and contacts. My blog – – has attracted over 1000 followers. My list of phone contacts - most of whom are on WhatsApp, a key connector - tips over 500. I will also spread the word through my Instagram account and among the nearly 100 contributors who backed me on my Camino Indiegogo Campaign.

Camino-related Facebook groups are another source of pre-orders. Each pilgrim (past and future) is a viable potential buyer. Most will buy at least one copy, but some may buy them en masse to share with their circle of family and friends, with pilgrim groups, with anyone they know in a place of transition / struggle / loss.

I would reach out to disability-related groups and pages on Facebook, such as: Invisabilities with over 1,000 followers; Disability Scoop (over 60,000 followers); People with Disabilities, Disabled World, and many more.

As a seasoned volunteer and attendee of the annual Ubud Writers and Readers Festival (in Bali), I will seek out a speaking engagement or set up a book launch at an upcoming UWRF. I’m active in solo/female/travel and Camino-related Facebook pages. And, as a professional writer and editor, I’ve participated in a writing group and contributed to various publications in Bali and overseas – such as Travel + Leisure and Yogi Times.


(Un)bound Together is unique in the repertoire of books about the Camino and travel memoirs in general. It weaves together a tapestry made from disparate threads - out of physical, emotional, mental and spiritual challenges. Unlike the books mentioned below: It's not quite a story about solo travel - although in many ways it turns out to be so; and it's not quite a story about finding love - although there's an undercurrent of love (or of its corollaries, fear, abandonment and rejection) throughout.

Wild: From Lost to Found on the Pacific Crest Trail (or A Journey From Lost to Found), by Cheryl Strayed. Publisher - Alfred A. Knopf 2012

At twenty-six, Cheryl Strayed thought she had lost everything. In the wake of her mother's rapid death from cancer, her family disbanded and her marriage crumbled. With nothing to lose, she made the most impulsive decision of her life: to walk eleven-hundred miles of the west coast of America and to do it alone. She had no experience of long-distance hiking and the journey was nothing more than a line on a map. But it held a promise - a promise of piecing together a life that lay shattered at her feet… Wild powerfully captures the terrors and pleasures of one young woman forging ahead against all odds on a journey that maddened, strengthened, and ultimately healed her.


Eat, Pray, Love: One Woman's Search for Everything Across Italy, India and Indonesia, by Elizabeth Gilbert. Publisher - Penguin Books 2006. 

At 32 years old, Elizabeth Gilbert was educated, had a home, a husband, and a successful career as a writer. She was, however, unhappy in her marriage and initiated a divorce. She then embarked on a rebound relationship that did not work out, leaving her devastated and alone. After finalizing her difficult divorce, she spent the next year traveling the world. She spent four months in Italy, eating and enjoying life ("Eat"). She spent three months in India, finding her spirituality ("Pray"). She ended the year in Bali, Indonesia, looking for "balance" of the two and fell in love with a Brazilian businessman (”Love”). 

Tracks : A Woman's Solo Trek Across 1700 Miles of Australian Outback, by Robyn Davidson. Vintage Books, 1980*

Tracks is the compelling, candid and frequently hilarious account of a young woman's perilous journey across the hostile Australian desert to the sea with only four camels and a dog for company – as well as a National Geographic photographer assigned to her story, who Davidson only begrudgingly accepts into her midst from time to time. Over the course of her odyssey, 27-year old Davidson emerges as a heroine who combines extraordinary courage with exquisite sensitivity and empathy for her country’s indigenous people. *Originally published in 1980, Tracks has been reissued in numerous subsequent editions, and was turned into a feature film in 2015.

Sue Kenney’s My Camino: A True Journey about the Spiritual Journey of a Woman Confronting Her Deepest Fear, by Sue Kenney. White Knight Publications, 2004.

Suddenly downsized from her corporate career, Canadian Sue Kenney walked 780 kilometers on a medieval pilgrimage route in Spain known as the Camino de Santiago Compostela. She set out, alone, in winter, determined to find her life purpose. With her experiences as a pilgrim and her athletic discipline as a competitive rower, Sue shares the lessons and virtues of being a simple pilgrim on the Camino, as a metaphor for being on a life journey with purpose.

I'll Push You: A Journey of 500 Miles, Two Best Friends, and One Wheelchair, by Patrick Gray. Tyndale House Publishers, 2017

Struck by a neuromuscular disease that robbed Justin of the use of his arms and legs, his childhood friend, Patrick remained by his side. Determined to live life to the fullest, the friends refused to give into despair or let physical limitations control what was possible for Justin. When Justin heard about the Camino de Santiago, he wondered aloud to Patrick whether the two of them could ever do it. Patrick’s immediate response was: “I’ll push you.” I’ll Push You is the real-life story of this incredible journey. A travel adventure full of love, humor, and spiritual truth, it exemplifies what every friendship is meant to be and shows what it means to never find yourself alone. You’ll discover how love and faith can push past all limits―and make us the best versions of ourselves.

High and Low: How I Hiked Away From Depression Across Scotland by Keith Foskett, Outdoor Adventure Book, March 2018.

Keith Foskett refused to let his dark mood define his limitations. Unknowingly suffering with depression, he hiked the wilds of Scotland – 600 miles’ worth of unforgiving hiking terrain and ferocious weather- to conquer his inner demons. As laughter became his travelling companion, he discovered that when dealing with emotional baggage, it’s best to pack light. Pushing his mind and body past breaking point, his journey could set a brave new course for coping with depression. In this amusing and life-affirming travel memoir, Keith discovers what really matters in life.

13 publishers interested
Sunbury Press logo Sunbury Press

250 copies • Partial manuscript.
Sunbury Press, Inc., headquartered in Mechanicsburg, PA is a publisher of hardcover, trade paperback, and eBooks featuring established and emerging authors in many categories. Sunbury's books are sold through leading booksellers worldwide. We are a traditional royalty-paying trade publisher.

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Literary Fiction, Literary Fiction, Mystery, Thriller, Horror & Suspense, Mystery, Thriller, Horror & Suspense, Mind & Body, Romantic Fiction, Science Fiction & Fantasy, Science Fiction & Fantasy, YA Fiction, YA Fiction, Biography & Memoir, Business & Money, Career & Success, Cookbooks, Food & Wine, Health, Fitness & Dieting, History, Journalism, Personal Growth & Self-Improvement, Politics & Social Sciences, Religion & Spirituality, Science, Society & Culture, Sports & Outdoors, Technology & the Future, Travel


Anaphora Literary Press logo Anaphora Literary Press

250 copies • Partial manuscript.
Anaphora Literary Press was started in 2009 and publishes fiction, short stories, creative and non-fiction books. Anaphora has exhibited its titles at SIBA, ALA, SAMLA, and many other international conventions. Services include book trailers, press releases, merchandise design, book review (free in pdf/epub) submissions, proofreading, formatting, design, LCCN/ISBN assignment, international distribution, art creation, ebook (Kindle, EBSCO, ProQuest)/ softcover/ hardcover editions, and dozens of other components included in the basic package.

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Children Fiction, Literary Fiction, Mind & Body, Mystery, Thriller, Horror & Suspense, Romantic Fiction, Science Fiction & Fantasy, YA Fiction, Biography & Memoir, Business & Money, Career & Success, Cookbooks, Food & Wine, Health, Fitness & Dieting, History, Journalism, Personal Growth & Self-Improvement, Politics & Social Sciences, Religion & Spirituality, Science, Society & Culture, Sports & Outdoors, Technology & the Future, Travel


Isabella Media Inc logo Isabella Media Inc

250 copies • Completed manuscript.
Isabella Media Inc is a Rhode Island-based, family-owned, mainline publishing organization with a mission to discover unknown stories. We combine unknown or little known authors’ undiscovered potential with Isabella Media Inc’s unique approach to publishing to provide the highest quality books to readers about stories they may not find anywhere else. It’s our desire to find unique stories that drive us.

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Children Fiction, Christian Fiction, Literary Fiction, Mind & Body, Mystery, Thriller, Horror & Suspense, Romantic Fiction, Science Fiction & Fantasy, Business & Money, Career & Success, Communication Skills, Corporate Culture, Education, Entrepreneurship & Small Business, Health, Fitness & Dieting, Illustrated Books, Management & Leadership, Marketing & Sales, Mindfulness & Happiness, Motivation & Inspiration, Personal Growth & Self-Improvement, Politics & Social Sciences


Mascot Books logo Mascot Books

Mascot Books is a full-service hybrid publisher dedicated to helping authors at all stages of their publishing journey create a high-quality printed or digital book that matches their vision. With comprehensive editorial, design, marketing, production, and distribution services, our authors have the support of an experienced publishing team while still retaining one of the highest royalty percentages in the business.

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500 copies • Partial manuscript • Looking for entrepreneurship, business, self-help, and personal growth.

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“You’re a walking miracle,” said Dr. Gutman, shaking his head in dis­belief while scanning the accident and medical reports. “Each one of these injuries could have killed you.” He should know, I thought to myself. Exhaling slowly, I silently counted off the multiple bone frac­tures and nerve damage I’d sustained after falling ten meters through a defective bridge in Cambodia a few months earlier. After logging more than two decades as an ER physician, there was little in the way of trauma cases that he hadn’t seen.

Dr. Gutman’s words planted a seed. If I’d come this close to death, I was in no position to take for granted my capacity to walk. Grati­tude trumped all else. Whereas I once jogged, cycled, trekked, played tennis, swam, trained, and competed in dragon boat races, I was now mentally crossing off that whole slew of rigorous activities. With a reconfigured body, my options had whittled down considerably.

Over the course of a year, with an intensive rehabilitation jammed with physiotherapy, osteopathy, swimming, acupuncture, and gentle yoga, I never deviated from my walking routine, weaving its heal­ing-juice through everything else. Within a few months, I graduated from limping along with a four-legged assistive device to hobbling on crutches; from using a cane to relying solely on my own two legs. Eventually freed from all contraptions, I was getting antsy. My rehab regimen needed a boost. I had to push myself, see how far my body could carry me.

Why not walk to the end of the earth? I could start off with a goal of 1000 kilometers, give or take. Granted, it was a pittance compared to the 7-month, 21,000-mile walk that journalist John Salopek had just embarked on. After all, Salopek was famously trekking around the world, with National Geographic tracking his every move, while I was merely planning to traipse across Spain. But never mind the details. My mind was set: I was going to walk the Camino.

This epiphany wasn’t the first time I’d entertained the notion of a walk of this magnitude; the seed had been planted long before.

More than a decade earlier, unemployed and newly arrived in Toronto from Montreal, I was looking for work—and meaning. With time on my hands, I accompanied an acquaintance to a net­working conference, where I heard a woman talk about her experi­ences walking hundreds of kilometers along the medieval pilgrimage route known as the Camino Santiago de Compostela. Sue Kenney spoke about how she sought solace in adventure and nature after being dumped from a high-paying corporate job—by walking the Camino, and laying stones along the way. The connections she made and friendships forged provided the sustenance she had long sought and craved. My curiosity was piqued: I could use a dose of nature and nurture. At the end of the day, Sue and I sat down for coffee.

Though I wasn’t very spiritual back then, nor am I Catholic, Sue’s story—revealing humanity’s deepest instinct and primal desire for nature, and how its inspiring and forgiving elements help us heal— struck a chord deep inside of me. Her narrative resonated on many levels; through a sharpened lens, I saw that my life too had reeled and roiled, through times of misery and depression, few work prospects, failed or non-existent relationships, and plenty of stagnation. After hearing Sue speak and reading her book, my gut and lungs were knotted. I ached for air. By the time we parted ways, a few hours later, the question wasn’t if I would walk the Camino, but when.

My serendipitous meeting with Sue and our subsequent corre­spondence—even after my accident, she bolstered my confidence— laid the groundwork. Then, Dr. Gutman has his say—and the idea birthed buds.

Two years after plummeting off that unsafe Cambodian bridge, I was still on a journey of recovery and healing. Returning to the South Asian country with its own grim history, I revisited the bridge of my accident and sought out those who saved me. Then, while visiting a friend in nearby Malaysia, I was urged to take a short de­tour to Indonesia—or more precisely to the resort island of Bali, a centuries-old locus of traditional healing. Before landing, I pictured a tropical isle coated in pristine beaches and wide open lush green fields. Beyond the verdant tiered rice paddies, I anticipated finding large swaths of land where, rain or shine, I could walk far and un­impeded. But, my expectations quickly evaporated. Besides a couple of yellowed and neglected “football” fields in my new hometown of Ubud, green parks and playgrounds did not exist.

The prospect of walking freely around the town of Ubud also soon evaporated—its increasing traffic and broken sidewalks swiftly dampening my enchantment. As one local writer has pointed out: “If you live in Ubud, walking anywhere is out of the question. If you walk, you are very likely to be killed in the traffic—quickly, by a schoolchild on a motorbike, or slowly by asphyxiation from bus fumes. Even walking through the rice fields, leaves you at risk of being hit by a motorbike, not to mention sunstroke, snakebite, get­ting lost, and above all, fatigue.”

A few months of dodging bikes, fumes and gaping chasms later, I decided to seek out greener walking pastures. Even the heady allure of rice paddy walks, initially so appealing, was wearing thin. How often can you tiptoe along raised beds of earth bordering flooded fields before your teetering no longer feels like leisure?

That’s when I went in search of a labyrinth. Surely Ubud, re­nowned as a center of healing (its original name, Obad/Oboed, translates to medicine) would feature at least one labyrinth, a set of circular paths that, in modern times, have been repurposed for walk­ing meditation. Imagining that I’d discover a crop of them dotting the island, I looked online and asked around. Neither Balinese locals nor longtime expats had even heard of a labyrinth. Which compelled me to create one myself—at a silent meditation retreat center, far off the beaten track and in the shadow of Bali’s sacred volcanic moun­tain, Mount Agung. Over the course of a year, the project provided me with an abundance of space, breathable air, respite from the hub­bub of Ubud, and a closely shaved pate of green on which to walk.

During one of my meditative strolls around the labyrinth, the notion of a walk of unimaginably long proportions re-surfaced and sprouted wings. I could no longer ignore the imperative: Gotta walk. Slow. Long. Far. As far as possible.

Clearly, the time had come for me to walk the Camino. But did I even fit the profile of a bona fide pilgrim? Who knew? Google helped sort me out.

I learned that the main pilgrimage routes—to Jerusalem, Rome and Spain—had been popular with Christians ever since the 4th cen­tury A.D.; and that pilgrims had been travelling to Santiago, to visit the (alleged) tomb of Saint James, the country’s patron saint, for over a thousand years. I had lived in Jerusalem and I’d toured Rome; I had even traveled through Spain—Madrid, Andalusia, and the Costa del Sol (by way of which I had acquired a passable though spotty comprehension of basic Spanish). But Galicia and Santiago were un­explored terrain; one more reason to walk a trail paved with history.

In the 10th century, a French bishop was one of the first pil­grims to make the journey to Santiago. At the height of the pilgrim­age’s popularity in the 11th and 12th centuries, over half a million Catholic pilgrims are said to have traveled the Camino Frances each year, from the southern reaches of the Pyrénée mountains to Spain’s remote northwestern region of Galicia; staying in pilgrim lodgings (known as hospitals) along the way.

Despite a gradual decrease in the numbers of pilgrims walking to Santiago over the centuries, the past few decades were marked by a resurgence. But 21st century pilgrims often walk for non-religious reasons and causes; wellbeing and self-enlightenment, to lose weight, to recover from a failed relationship, to raise funds, for an outdoor adventure, to meet new people from around the world, or to see Spain from a different perspective than the interior of a tour bus.

I too had no religious justification for charting this particular path. The motivating factors were few and simple: Crank up my body’s healing. Discover life in Spain’s remotest villages. Meet other wanderlusters. Improve my Spanish. Nestle into nature. Celebrate my 50th birthday. Escape from everyday intrusions: noise, traffic, pollution, a jungle of tattooed bodies—and the crush of social media. Apparently, with the criteria now extensively relaxed, as an explorer, seeker and trauma survivor, I too would qualify. Hallelujah.

Which is how I—a Buddhist-leaning, savasana-practicing, re­formed lawyer and lapsed Jewess—came to embark on one of Catholicism’s holiest pilgrimage routes.

Chapter 1: Getting in Gear

Travel was in her DNA. During family road trips through New York, Virginia Beach and Vermont, the girl rattled off country names and played “I Spy” with her sisters in the back seat of the station wagon. Overseas travel meant bulky suitcases, passports and a prized teddy bear in tow. It meant sandy beaches, high dives into hotel pools, exotic foods, shopping, room service and dancing on the tips of her father’s shoes long past sunset, to the sounds of tuxedoed crooners whose slick hair glistened under the wilting heat of tropical spotlights.


Over the months leading up to my departure, I am obsessed. While most wannabe-pilgrims in online forums ask about backpacks and hiking boots; thermal underwear and wicking socks; laptops or tab­let (or both?), I have more pressing matters in mind.

How would my gear move itself from one town to another? Ever since my accident, I had become unable to carry any heavy items. This new normal ruled out the possibility of me carrying my own backpack. Short of finding a way to teleport my clothes and toilet­ries, I needed a walking partner-and-carrier. A personal hauler. Per­chance, a butler. Heck, I’d even settle on a Spanish sherpa.

I had conjured up a few options. A camel sounded like a good idea. In 1977, Robyn Davidson had trudged across nearly 3,000 ki­lometers of the Australian outback with four camels lugging her gear. My guess was that a camel could be recruited quite easily as it would be covering a fraction of Davidson’s distance, carting considerably less stuff. I’d ridden a camel a few years before, in Germany, and assumed Spain had its share of dromedaries. It could be a walk in the parque. E-mails were sent.

“Does anyone know if and where I might find a CAMEL (sí, uno camello) in Spain?”

“Sorry, the only camels in Spain are in zoos and on islands as tourist attractions.”

“What about an alpaca or llama?”

“Impossible. It’s not legal for them to carry gear.”

“How about a donkey?” I wrote to sanctuaries and farms all around Europe.

No takers. No givers. No lenders. No way. Nada.

There was also the small matter of my… umm, rear end. The tri­angular-shaped sacrum at the base of the spine is one of the hardest bones in our body. It takes a heck of a whopping to split it into bits. Mine got whopped and shattered in a few places—most prominent­ly, in the neighborhood of L4-L5. My pelvis and the whole left side of my body took the biggest brunt of the fall; my leg was crushed and shortened from impact, its spindly toes banged up, still today loath to straighten out, flatten. A cluster of muscles and fascia were dented and damaged. A bundle of nerves originating in the sacral region, weaving down and through my left leg to the tip of my toes, were struck numb. In short, my body, bum included, took a pummeling.

Here is what I learned: If your derriere gets banged up from land­ing on rocks, you may develop an inability to sit. Chairs, benches, hard surfaces of any kind, make me cringe. I adapt. Kneel. Squat. Crouch. Lean. Lie down. Cushions, sofas, chaise longues, beanbags, and yoga mats are allies. They have my back.

In light of (and despite) my sitting disability, I forged ahead with plans, which included launching a crowd-sourcing campaign—to raise funds and awareness about invisible illnesses, injuries and im­pairments. The love and cash poured in. I was edging closer towards the starting line.

Packing light was a priority—even if I wasn’t going to do the heavy lifting. I borrowed a weathered backpack from my brother-in-law. A collapsible carrito (luggage trolley) from my parents. A green lightweight daypack from my niece. Weather-beaten and well-worn hiking boots from my Himalayan trek a few years earlier were pulled out of storage, now buffed up with sturdy orthotic inserts. And a last-minute splurge on Teva trekking sandals—just in case.

With the specter of chronic pain spiking if I carried too much load, weight restrictions were a key consideration. Fracture dislocation with displacement results in significant disc disruption and loss of load-bearing capacity. Every milligram counted. I skimmed down to the essentials: A (near-weightless) map, a (near-weightless) list of albergues (hostel-like accommodations for pilgrims), a (near-weightless) note­book, pen, pair of prescription eyeglasses. Even my toy-like Nokia cell phone, limited to messages and calls, felt lighter than air. Then, I took my research to the supermarket; lifting bags of white sugar and whole wheat flour in varying weights. The 500g bag was a little light and the 2kg bag so heavy, it tugged my whole body downwards. The 1kg bag was on the lighter side. With the 1kg bag in one hand and the 500g bag in another, I strolled the aisles (ignoring puzzled looks of onlook­ers) and, like a latter-day Goldilocks, hit my target.

In preparation, I also read stories about unusual modes of doing the Camino. “Almost anyone can walk, ride, or cycle a Camino,” wrote South African co-author Sylvia Nilsen, about pilgrims setting out with different levels of ability. Nilsen’s book introduced me to an unknown species: Backpack trolleys. “If you prefer to cart your own pack,” she writes, “you might consider pulling a backpack trol­ley which will leave your hands free.” Examples included the Dixon Roller Pack, the Dutch-made Wheelie 111 and the Australian-de­signed Trackmate.

But my ultimate swoon was reserved for the Swiss-engineered, ergonomically-designed Carrix and its custom-made harness. I fan­tasized about navigating the one-wheeled trolley with my backpack behind me—on my own. A stroke of luck landed me on the front steps of a former pilgrim; Charly had a Carrix and he invited me to take it out for a spin. Strapped in, I tried to lift the Carrix. Even without a single item placed onto its frame, the damn thing wouldn’t budge. Which is when all my quixotic ideas of walking solo across Spain, the cool-looking Carrix trailing behind me, came crashing down. I left Charly’s house bereft.

I cannot do this alone.

As my departure date approached, the search for my sherpa reached a new level of urgency. Taxi services that ferry backpacks from one village to the next village were not a viable option; pre-ar­ranging a drop-off point was impossible due to unforeseen fluctua­tions in pain. If I couldn’t reach the taxi’s target destination, I might be left without a change of clothes and toiletries. And no one should be forced to sleep next to a foul-smelling pilgrim.

My new goal entailed tracking down another pilgrim, flexible enough to accommodate my slower pace and peculiarities. On the verge of canceling, I found some hope one morning in an e-mail, as if strapped to wings.

A German tour guide and seasoned pilgrim had gotten wind of my plans and predicament. Otto proposed that I join him for a week, after which he would locate someone to carry my gear the rest of the way. It sounded too good—and auspiciously timed—to be true. Due diligence flew out the window and I leapt at the offer. I was in too deep; there was no turning back now.

Chapter 2: The Pamplona Connection

Early on September 19th, 2013, one week after my 50th birthday, I wake up in Pamplona, Spain. I switch on my cell phone, impatient to hear from Otto. Hours later, my phone finally beeps, while I am exploring the park around the renowned Ciudadela fortress.

“Hello Amit,” it reads, “welcome in Spain. We will be the 20th more or less at noon in Cizur Menor. A little village 5 kilometers behind Pamplona on the Camino. We can’t go through Pamplona with the donkeys.”

Yes, of course, the donkeys. He is taking a pair of burros on a trial run; I am not alone in requiring detours and accommoda­tions. But it seems odd that these four-legged creatures should be prohibited from crossing through Spain’s cities and towns. After all, it was the esteemed Spanish writer Miguel de Cervantes who conjured up Don Quixote (a.k.a. The Ingenious Nobleman Sir Quixote of La Mancha), the legendary literary figure who roamed the countryside on a donkey, running into challenges and wind­mills along the way. So why would Pamplona authorities allow enraged bulls to run amok through crowds of bystanders during its annual Fiesta Fermin, but bar a couple of lazy burros from ambling through?

“Can you come to Cizur Menor by taxi?” Otto asks. “Or you go by foot and we organize the transport of your luggage.”

Most pilgrims who set out on the Camino Frances, embark from the French side of the Pyrenées, just north of the Spanish border. But I, balking at the prospect of negotiating such steep mountain passes—and unaware that uphill hikes would eventually track me down—pinpointed Pamplona as my starting line.

I’d arrived the day before, on a train from Madrid—where I had overnighted in one of the city’s trendiest neighborhoods. Elena, the mother of friends living in the southern city of Granada, had invited me to stay the night, find my bearings, shake out jet lag. We strolled through the neighborhood, stepping into a little shop around the corner. A chalkboard was illustrated with a globe and a phrase writ­ten in Spanish: Que Tus Suenos Sean Mas Grandes Que Tus Miedos. May your dreams be larger than your fears. I hear you.


The girl’s life was a patchwork of Polaroid moments, a kaleidoscope that brimmed with dreams. Hers was the quintessential family unit, warm, tight-knit, loving. Frozen in time.


Early the next morning, Elena escorted me to the train station. Hours later, Pamplona beckoned—one more city to add to the multitudes I’d explored around the world: Moscow and Singapore and Yangon and Berlin and Paris and Prague and New York and Tel Aviv and nearly unpronounceable ones like Tsetserleg and Nyaung Shwe, too.

Standing in front of a door with my thumb hovering above the bell, a wave of self-conscious regret overwhelms me; my backpack sits low to the ground, attached to the carrito, rather than glommed onto my back like a temporary appendage—the sign of a pilgrim. What will my host think when he sees me without a heavy pack ON my back? Fraud art thou.

My insecurities and self-doubt evaporate as soon as the door swings open, revealing a young man hobbling around with a crutch and a bum leg. Iranian-born Messoud greets me warmly, and wel­comes me into his modest apartment. We exchange anecdotes about our respective accidents and injuries: A panic attack averted.

Early the next morning, under an overcast sky and slight chill, I head out to explore Pamplona—and track down bulls. Two elderly women are perched on stools in front of a bar, each one nursing a pint of beer. A mass of placards, haphazardly affixed to building façades and windows fronting abandoned shops, read: Al Vende. For sale. Or: Alquilar. For rent. Signs of Spain’s economic crisis are prominent.

Drinking señoras. Vacant homes and stores. Even the bulls run wild here.

Spain’s recession is fraught with contradictions. Locals congregate in the old town to catch up on gossip, walk their dogs, or drive the infirm around in their wheelchairs. After sunset, when the sky takes on a rosy glow, crowds head to the jugeteria—for toys; the pastele­ria—for cakes; the carteria—for stationery; and the heladeria—for ice cream. Young couples congregate in cavernous smoke-filled bars sunken halfway into the ground, crowding around upturned bar­rel-tables, where they drink and dine on tapas. Crisis be damned, la vida pura y loca!

No word yet from Otto. I’m stuck in limbo. After picking up my credencial (pilgrim’s passport), I stroll around town, this time strate­gizing about how to meet Otto and his furry beasts in the little vil­lage “behind Pamplona.” A reconnaissance mission to Cizur Menor is in order—to gauge the distance, scope out the bus schedule and a meeting place. Sounds easy enough. Except for one thing: What sort of place will accommodate donkeys?

I set out in sandals, carrying a bottle of water, my daypack, and little else. Reaching the local university campus, I cross paths with students and pilgrims, all of whom carry backpacks of varying size; the students’ version comparatively smaller than the pilgrims’ bulky loads. My Shrek-colored daypack dangles behind me, setting me apart from the others. I’m neither a tourist, nor a student, nor, ap­parently, a pilgrim. Who am I?


The girl walked with her family, sometimes upwards of 20 kilometers in one day, to raise money for a cause, but mostly so she could cross the finish line and score an engraved and much-coveted medal that hung from a ribbon and that she would proudly collect and display for many years.


The first group of pilgrims that passes me looks determined in their staccato strides; their gazes, collectively fixed on a point far beyond the horizon—as if in hot pursuit of arrival. In comparison, I suddenly feel so inept, so physically in-able. A simmering trickle of self-doubt rises again. Where do I fit into this chain of able-bodied beings who wake up every day to walk long—and fast?

Bill Bryson comes to mind. The travel writer’s words remind me that I require only “a willingness to trudge.” I have the will—even though it may falter.

Reaching the outskirts of Pamplona, another wave of impotence hits me. What a crazy idea! What was I thinking? Fields stretch out ahead and on either side of me as I walk along a two-lane highway. I’ve clearly miscalculated. What was to be a short and leisurely stroll has morphed into a trudge gone too long and wrong. Siesta is at hand: Everyone is napping. I really should have packed a lunch.

At midday, with the day’s heat beating me down, Pamplona fades into a hazy blur behind me. Up ahead, Cizur Menor is a Spanish hamlet fast asleep. Not a soul or car in sight. The only sound from any direction is a gentle breeze rustling through the leaves. There is a rotonda (traffic roundabout) with a bus stop; looks like el centro. After noting the location of an albergue across the road, I return to Pamplona feeling tired, sweaty, and miserably triumphant. Drifting off to sleep, I toy with the last-resort-option of throwing in the towel.

By the next morning, my misgivings have all but dissipated. I pack a vegetarian sandwich, and stuff extra lettuce into a bag—con­solation for a couple of donkeys on detour.

“Buenos días,” I text Otto. “I walked to Cizur Menor yesterday. Just 2 look around. I will try to take the bus 2 get there. Do u want to meet near the rotonda?”

“Choose a bar,” he replies, “and send us the name.”

A bar? Strange choice for a meeting place—until I remember that this country’s bars are not just for booze; the locus of village life, they double as meeting places for locals and pilgrims—and breeding grounds for gossip. Which, when you’re jobless or otherwise down on your luck, is a pretty harmless way to pass the time.

But the mystery remains unanswered: Are donkeys welcome in Spanish bars? Not likely.

“Otto. Change of plans,” I write. “Meet me at Albergue Maribel.”

Inside the front entrance of the albergue, I lean against a wall and wait. Though it is only mid-morning, sweat-drenched pilgrims plod in, a steady horde groveling for showers and beds. Unhooking them­selves from enormous backpacks, they scan their new surroundings and the faces of other pilgrims. Looking for what, signs of fatigue? I feel tired just looking at them.

One by one, pilgrims shake off the day’s heat, refill water bottles, register, and sign in. Hospitaleros greet them cheerfully, assign rooms, answer questions. They are a calming presence, these albergue-vol­unteers; rarely rankled by even the most persistent or unkind person. Pilgrims themselves, hospitaleros are quick to empathize with the many frustrations that land on their doorstep.

“Where are the cafés and bars?”

“Where can I find laundry or shops?”

“What time is check-out tomorrow?”

“Can I stay more than one night?”

Pilgrims lay out cash and credencials. They drag backpacks to rooms. Claim beds. Strip and shower. Collapse. Eat. Drink. Plan.

In the middle of the albergue’s lush courtyard, a small bale of tur­tles surrounds an algae-filled pond while others glide under the water’s surface, their colors camouflaged, barely seen. One pair slowly inches up a plank set diagonally from the water up to the pond’s edge. The duo slithers over to a dry spot in the sun, and each one withdraws into its respective shell. I can relate; I’m about ready to hide away myself.

The faint sound of hoofs scratching against gravel summons my attention away from the timid turtles. I peer out the entrance, past an ominous-looking sculpture of a farmer who seems to have lost his upper torso. The sun’s rays pelt down, firing up the day and the pavement and all creatures big and small.

One of those big creatures leads the caravan. A heavyset man in a dark, sweat-stained t-shirt, khaki shorts, and hiking boots lumbers up the road towards me with great effort, his head hanging low. A mop of stringy gray hair partly covers his face, already sticking to his forehead from the morning heat. A rope dangles behind him, its far end tied to a reluctant donkey. It is hard to visualize this man leading others (human or beast) along this route, when he barely seems able to move his own bulk.

Trailing behind, unexpected company: a young woman, decked out in hiking boots and a bright orange jacket tied around her waist. She plods along, her gaze fixed on the gravel underfoot. She grips the end of a rope that leads to a smaller-sized donkey, no more enthusi­astic than the first.

Both burros are weighed down with gear. Given their fabled pen­chant for laziness, Otto doubted the donkeys could be coaxed into schlepping heavy loads for any length of time. He’d give them a week to prove their mettle and gauge their readiness to cooperate. I was to be part of the experiment. (Oh-oh.)

Barely out of the starting gate, the approaching quartet already looks exhausted. Bringing up the rear while scampering between ev­eryone’s legs, is a little mutt named Santi. Otto’s charge.

By the looks of it, my entourage has arrived. Willing trudgers. But just barely.

When the burly fellow reaches me, his face pulsates and flushes red.

“Hi, are you A-mitt?” I’m not entirely surprised at his mispro­nunciation of my name. Most people do the same.


The girl was the middle child of three daughters of a Romanian-born engineer and an Israeli-born musician who shelved her career to become a full-time mother. The girl’s name was unfamiliar in her hometown and school; a Hebrew name, difficult to pronounce, reserved exclusively for boys, making her the butt of jokes. Years later, the girl, now a wom­an, traveling in Nepal, would learn that her name was also a Hindi name—for boys only.


“Yes, I’m Amit.” I say, pronouncing my name slowly: Ahhh-meet. “Hola Otto.”

At a safe but friendly distance from the dripping-wet figure, I reach out to shake his hand.

Introductions are swift, their accents German. Otto’s friend— girlfriend, apparently—is Klara. There is a glint of dismay or disin­terest in her eyes, as if she has not been told that I will tag along. The prospect of traveling as a trio—animals excluded—strikes me as a smart move. No pressure, no expectations.

Otto introduces me to the burros. They are both a dirty shade of grey, with long manes and longer legs. They’re well-equipped, with saddle pads, bridles, halters, and all manner of equine-friendly gear. Each one is also bogged down with saddle bags and tubular stuff sacks.

The taller, older creature is Sancho—presumably named after Sancho Panza, the mythical sidekick of Don Quixote. But my as­sumption is upended when I later learn that the Camino was re-rout­ed in the 11th century, under the orders of a medieval king known as Sancho the Third (a.k.a “el Grande”). A donkey elder with ties to Spanish royalty? Why not.

On the heels of Sancho, an almost identical, but timid-looking Popeye trudges along. Dangling from a red thread tied to his saddle pad is a scallop shell, stamped with the distinctive red Cross of Saint James—similar to the scallop shell that hangs from my Shrek-pack, with the words Healing Pilgrim written across it in Sharpie. Popeye also has a small, orange, rear-reflecting light affixed to the back of his saddle pad; a puzzling add-on, seeing that we are not slated to walk after dark.

Otto hoists my backpack onto Sancho and slips my now-col­lapsed carrito under the ropes that prevent Popeye’s load from top­pling off. The big man then maneuvers and redistributes the rest of the gear—to ensure that neither donkey loses balance and tumbles into a ditch. I cringe, with remorse. We may have only just met, San­cho and I, but I’m already feeling inklings of guilt, arising from the knowledge that my involuntary in-abilities are adding to his burden.

“Santi! Bei fus!” Otto bellows in German, calling out to his dog: Heel. Now.

Then he turns to me, changing his tone.

“Buen Camino!” he calls out—which roughly translates to “good road”—offering me the common greeting that is exchanged among pilgrims on the way. I return the same in kind. Then, without fan­fare, errant bulls from Pamplona or friends to wave us off, the six of us—two-and four-legged creatures all bound together—walk on, heading west.

  • Update #13 - Another milestone! My Book Launch by the Sea May 2, 2019

    Dear Family & Friends,

    Oh my, and thanks to each of you, how the book-joy continues...!

    Last Saturday afternoon, as dusk approached and rumbles of …

  • Update #12 - (Un)Bound, Together is Out!! Dec. 11, 2018

    Helloooo to all,

    As of yesterday, I've officially released my book into the world! 

    When I first spotted, then pulled out the very first printed …

  • Update #11 - Oh goodness.. I'm overdue! Dec. 11, 2018

    Dear family, friends and supporters,

    So sorry for the long delay... But please know that, since I parted ways from my first US publisher, I …

  • Update #10 - Sad news & good news Sept. 17, 2018

    Hello from a very hot 'n humid Bali!

    The sad news is that I've had to split from my publisher. Without getting into (boring!) details …

  • Update #9 - Manuscript: FINI! Aug. 26, 2018

    Hello, shalom, privet et bonjour de Provence (France)!

    I'm so happy to let you know that I've finished writing my manuscript, and just shipped it …

  • Update #8 - Editor found! July 4, 2018

    More fabulous news to share...Hallelujah!!

    I found an editor to help shepherd my manuscript closer to publication. (Not so) coincidentally, I actually met my editor …

  • Update #7 - Publisher Found! June 3, 2018

    Hello there!

    I'm thrilled to let you know that I've just signed with an American publisher: Sunbury Press ;) I feel blessed to have found …

  • Update #6 - Mission Accomplished!! April 11, 2018


    I think it still hasn't completely sunk in, that less than 24 hours ago, I hit my target. Not so long ago, reaching 250 …

  • Update #5 - The Final Stretch April 6, 2018

    Hear Ye! Hear Ye!

    I need to share some amazing news: My campaign just hit a milestone...180 copies have been pre-ordered! 

    I'm flabbergasted, gobsmacked, overwhelmed …

  • Update #4 - Happy Dance! March 28, 2018

    Dear friends, family and all ye faithful...

    I'm just so overwhelmed and excited to announce that my campaign just hit a new milestone.. and is …

  • Update #3 - The Momentum Builds... March 26, 2018

    Dear friends and family around the world,

    Here we are at the halfway point of my book campaign, and truly..I could NOT have reached this …

  • Update #2 - Over the moon! March 18, 2018

    Dear family, friends (near and far), and lovely readers,

    I'm over the moon with gratitude!!!

    As you may know, I was in (forced) hibernation for …

  • Update #1 - In Just Two Days...! March 14, 2018

    Dear family, friends (near and far), and lovely readers,

    I'm super excited to see that it's been just TWO days since my book campaign launched, …

Please log in to comment.

  • Rachel Samson
    on March 12, 2018, 12:02 a.m.

    Buena suerte Amit! Muchos exitos con tu libro! Rachel

  • Sally Arnold
    on March 12, 2018, 12:18 a.m.

    Can’t wait to read your Camino story! Good luck with the campaign

  • Wouter Lincklaen Arriens
    on March 12, 2018, 1:24 a.m.

    Thanks for inspiring us with the journey you are making, Amit! I am looking forward to reading your book :-)

  • Liudmila Leuckaja
    on March 12, 2018, 5:54 a.m.

    Thank you Amit , looking forward to read your book 🤓❤️

  • heleen vissers
    on March 12, 2018, 7:34 a.m.

    HI dear friend, I just ordered your book!! Looking forward to it. love heleen

  • Melinda Ammann
    on March 12, 2018, 9:45 a.m.

    Go for it, Amit! Thanks for sharing and writing :-)

  • sonia hazan
    on March 12, 2018, 10:22 a.m.

    Looking forward to reading all about your journey!

  • amit erez
    on March 12, 2018, 11:50 a.m.

    הנה הזמנתי... מאחל לך הצלחה עם הספר.

  • Deborah Korn
    on March 12, 2018, 3:29 p.m.

    Good for you!! Wow!!! So happy to support you on your journey. And, can't wait to read your book! Much love, Debbie

  • Katie SAPKOTA
    on March 12, 2018, 6:44 p.m.

    GOOD LUCK... I believe in you, can't wait ait to read all about your amazing strength. If you at ever in the UK... Come to see us. Xx

  • Katie Chase
    on March 12, 2018, 6:50 p.m.

    Happy writing, peregrina. I look forward to reading about your journey. Your fellow pilgrim, Katie

  • my stock
    on March 13, 2018, 8:30 a.m.

    Can't wait for the book launching on Bali

  • Dawn Bouquot
    on March 13, 2018, 9:44 p.m.

    Did the Camino in 2016... wondering when we'll do it again! It creates a longing...

  • Ubud HorseStables
    on March 14, 2018, 3:19 a.m.

    Dear Bu Amit. Congratulations for the book and looking forward to have it. All success. Hugs.. Yogi

  • Mooh Hood
    on March 14, 2018, 3:33 a.m.

    Excited to read it - love what you are doing ...congratulations!

  • Paula Johnson
    on March 14, 2018, 7:41 a.m.

    Can't wait to read about your journey Amit!!

  • Robin Lim
    on March 14, 2018, 9:25 a.m.

    So excited to see your dream come true. You uplift us all Amit. Love, Ibu Robin

  • Mor Golan
    on March 14, 2018, 6:25 p.m.

    Looking forward, and congratulations again!:)

  • susan gutman
    on March 14, 2018, 9:10 p.m.

    We are so excited and proud to be part of your journey Amit. We praise your efforts and send only good wishes for this wonderful achievement. Sending you light and love.
    Susan, Jimmy, Evan and Bianca

  • David Paynter
    on March 14, 2018, 9:23 p.m.

    Good luck, looking forward to reading, and where are in the video?

    on March 15, 2018, 8:50 a.m.

    Hello Amit
    I have just ordered a copy of your book, I look forward to reading it.
    I am so blessed to have met you in Bali several times and I can't wait until the next time.
    I wish you every success with the publication of your special book.
    Love and blessings, Tracey x

  • Tia Lanzetta
    on March 16, 2018, 4 a.m.

    Thanks for making your fascinating story available for pre-order!

  • Sue Kenney
    on March 16, 2018, 1:04 p.m.

    Wishing you great success in sharing your CAMINO story.

  • Hayley Grace
    on March 16, 2018, 8:20 p.m.

    I’ve been looking forward to reading your book Amit. All the best for the pre-orders and launch, very exciting!

  • dan janco
    on March 17, 2018, 9:45 p.m.

    Mazal Tov Amitale Yekara Shely

  • Brigitte Sumner
    on March 18, 2018, 4:49 a.m.

    Hi Amit, I look forward to reading your book and meeting you again soon

  • Heidi Levite
    on March 18, 2018, 6:19 p.m.

    I’m so happy to see your beautiful face and now to read YOUR BOOK!!!! You deserve so much peace , joy and love. Gd Bless you my dear 💕💕💕💕warmest regards, Heidi

  • Ian Janco
    on March 18, 2018, 7:29 p.m.

    Happy to help a fellow Janco! So glad that you’re doing this. I’m inspired to keep working on my manuscript and now I know that this wonderful website exists! Thank you for inviting me to pre-order your book, and I cannot wait to read it. It sounds wonderful.

  • Carmela Yudan
    on March 18, 2018, 8:43 p.m.

    Hi Amit, this is Amit and Carmela. We are togethr in Raanana now, watching and hearing your promo video ! Looking very much forward to revceive the first copies. GOOD LUCK and HAG PESSACH SAMEACH!!

  • Peta Kaplan
    on March 21, 2018, 8:20 a.m.

    Best of luck Amit. I will share with some friends who might enjoy your story.

  • Debbie Dankoff
    on March 26, 2018, 2:18 a.m.

    Can’t wait to read it! How wonderful that it is almost here :)

  • Avara Yaron
    on March 27, 2018, 12:03 a.m.

    It worked! I look forward to reading your book! Blessings!

  • Nancy Anello
    on March 29, 2018, 1:14 a.m.

    Looking forward to reading your story, Amit. May want to walk it in future

  • Cheron Long-Landes
    on March 30, 2018, 2:29 a.m.

    Wishing you every success in your project, and achieving your dream! Happy Passover 2018.

  • Micheline Landry
    on April 4, 2018, 6:35 a.m.

    I can not wait to read your adventure. It will remind me of good memories

  • Emma Nyman
    on April 6, 2018, 2:57 a.m.

    You are a star, such an inspiration and a great story teller. I really cant wait to read your book.

  • Shelagh Kinch
    on April 6, 2018, 12:40 p.m.

    So great to see you are alive and well and writing a book! I am so it surprised. Looking forward to reading it.

  • elissa kline
    on April 6, 2018, 4:15 p.m.

    Buying a second one to send to a friend who I just learned is thinking about walking the Camino. xoxoxoxo

  • Norm Morrison
    on April 7, 2018, 7:27 p.m.

    I envy your journey on the Camino. They is one of my bigger dreams. I look forward your book. Buen Camino. :-)

  • Trisha Joe
    on April 7, 2018, 8:39 p.m.

    HI Amit- congratulations. I'm looking forward to reading your book( probably on the plane to Bali mid May ) I hope to spend more time with you this time if you are over there then. Love Trisha

  • Noya Tandlich
    on April 8, 2018, 3:50 a.m.

    Excited to take part in your dream come true... and to recieve the book!
    Good luck Amit🙏😘

  • Martine Kalaw
    on April 8, 2018, 11:36 p.m.

    You're almost there Amit! You will certainly reach your goal! So proud of you!

  • Eve Kundycki
    on April 9, 2018, 1:46 a.m.

    Celebrating creativity and exploration. Love to you Amit x

  • Tara Murff
    on April 10, 2018, 4:33 a.m.

    Hi Amit- Best wishes for the continuation of this project! We look forward to holding (and reading of course :-) ) your materialized vision..... thanks for including us to support

  • Eva Virago
    on April 10, 2018, 1:52 p.m.

    Can't wait to read about your adventurous journey! Love from Dave and Eva xx

  • Lisa Bowen
    on April 11, 2018, 12:07 a.m.

    Looking forward to reading the whole story Gorgeous Girl 😍 Congratulations 💛

  • Stephanie Firestone
    on April 11, 2018, 1:02 a.m.

    You are there baby! Can't wait to see you published. Lots of love, Steph and Wayne

  • Ava Ang
    on April 11, 2018, 3:01 a.m.

    Congratulations! so happy to be able to be part of your journey!

  • Arlena Mourier
    on Dec. 11, 2018, 3:56 p.m.

    Amit, I have changed my address and need to contact you. I do not wish to leave it here in the comment section. However the bottom of your email update directs me here. Please provide me a way to contact you with my new information. Arlena

  • Anonymous
    on May 2, 2019, 5:09 a.m.

    Mazal tov!! Can't wait to read it!!