Spanish Steps : One Man and His Ass on the Pilgrim Way to Santiago

Review by Philip Blazdell

Tim Moore is often hailed as the new king of British travel writing. He previous book have lead him to follow the Arctic trail of a 19^th-century explorer, retrace the 18^th-century Grand Tour, cycle the Tour de France route and bring the streets of Monopoly to life. For his fifth book, nearing 40 and feeling the need for some spiritual depth in his life (and encouraged by the promise of a free lunch), he sets out to conquer the famous Camino de Santiago, the medieval pilgrims' route to Compostela on the west coast of Spain. As the idea of carrying his own gear for 500 or so miles scares Moore silly so he decides, despite an inherent fear of any animal larger than a cat, to borrow a donkey (or Donk as he endearingly refers to his beast of burden) for this epic journey. It is this dramatic tension between man and beast that gives the book so many of its memorable comic highlights.

Moore had been fascinated by stories he'd heard of pilgrimages, which many Europeans had taken through sultry and unwelcoming Spanish terrain to Santiago de Compostela. The sub-title says it all: "One Man and his Ass on the Pilgrim Way to Santiago"--and Moore's treacherous donkey is as much a character as the bizarre dramatis personae the author encounters. Everything is against him: weather that saps his resolve at every step of the way, impossible dormitories, eccentric fellow travellers, and an animal that, if it could speak, would be constantly asking, "is this journey really necessary?"

However, perhaps because this is essentially a different, more spiritual trip, or perhaps because, like most of us, Moore is beginning to feel the passage of time, I found the humour in this book much more low key and muted. There are less laugh-out-loud passages. However this is balanced by a much more spiritual feeling to the book. It is almost as if Moore is really beginning to mature as a writer and now realises that as well as having a great eye for comedy and dialogue (I laughed out loud every time a German pilgrim referred to Moore's donk as a monkey) he realises that he can write emotional and quite touching prose too. This especially effective when sandwiched between amusing descriptions of hostel life on the road:

"Unexpected confrontation with full-frontal, Pilsner-bellied German nudity was an occupational hazard in any refugio bathroom... (the man's) wrinkled pilgrim parts now rested on the rim of the sink I was waiting to clean my teeth in..."

There is an awful lot to recommend about this book (as there always with Moore's books) and over 500 miles of extreme weather and agonising bestial sloth, it becomes memorably apparent that for the multinational band of eccentrics who keep the Santiagan flame alive, the pilgrimage has evolved from a purely devotional undertaking into a mobile therapist's couch. Ludicrous, heart-warming and improbably inspirational (as one reviewer noted) this is a profoundly moving and witty book. The reader can only hope that the obvious change that Moore undergoes whilst on this pilgrimage doesn't stop him writing such eloquent books in the future.