Built for this: What nobody tells plus-size pilgrims about walking the Camino de Santiago

If you've ever typed "can plus-size women hike the Camino de Santiago" into a search bar at 11pm, this post is for you.

The answer is yes. Unequivocally, enthusiastically, yes. I've walked the Camino Francés and the Camino Portugués at different sizes and different fitness levels, and what I know for certain is this: the Camino does not care about your size. It cares whether you show up.

Here's the practical guide I wish someone had handed me before my first step.

Train before you go. Seriously.

The number one mistake plus-size hikers make on the Camino de Santiago is undertrained feet. Start walking now with your loaded pack — not a day bag, your actual pack — on hills, on pavement, on surfaces that make you question your choices. Your feet, hips, and knees need miles before you land in Europe.

Plus-size bodies carry a lot of conditioning around effort and pain. We've been told our bodies are the problem for so long that it gets hard to tell the difference between "this is hard because I need more training" and "this is hard because it's just hard." The Camino is hard for everyone. That is not a you problem.

Train consistently. Rest on purpose. Stop apologizing for needing a longer runway.

Gear that fits your body matters more than gear that's popular.

Backpacks: Get professionally fitted. The hip belt must sit on your hips, not your waist — when it's right, your hips carry 70–80% of the weight. Gregory makes excellent women's-specific packs. For summer Caminos when you're traveling light, Symbiosis is a women-made ultralight pack designed specifically for bodies with boobs and curves. I used it on my Camino Portugués and it changed everything.

Clothing: Compression leggings or anti-chafe shorts under everything, every day. Body Glide before you get dressed, not after you're already irritated. Cotton is not your friend — moisture-wicking synthetics or merino wool only.

Look for merino wool bras and underwear if you can find your size. Merino is antimicrobial, temperature-regulating, and dries fast — meaning you can wear it multiple days without it turning against you. Branwyn makes a merino bra designed for larger busts that hikers swear by. Smartwool, Ridge Merino, and Woolx are solid for underwear. Fair warning: merino bra sizing still has a way to go for plus sizes, so check size charts carefully.

For warmer Caminos, a hiking skirt over your leggings is a game changer — air circulates, it dries fast, and it eliminates waistband pressure entirely. My LightHeart Gear hiking skirt was my most-commented piece of gear on the Francés. They make them for men too. For pants, Thicket Adventure makes true plus-size hiking pants in sizes 16–30 with belly fit and booty fit options — designed by plus-size hikers for plus-size hikers. Outdoor Research has a solid plus-size women's line for layers and rain gear.

Shoes: Half a size up — your feet will swell. Break them in for hundreds of miles before you go. And pack a recovery sandal for the moment you arrive each night. Oofos, Crocs, Birkenstocks, Teva Hurricanes, and Xero Sandals all have fans on the trail. Slip-on only. On your feet the second you stop walking.

Foot care is your full-time job on the Camino.

You will become opinionated about tape. This is normal.

My system: Injinji toe socks first, Body Glide on toes and heels before putting them on, then Darn Tough socks over the top. Yes, two pairs. Yes, every day. Injinji stops toe-on-toe friction. Body Glide stops friction before it starts. Darn Tough adds durability and cushion. It sounds fussy. It works.

Leukotape over moleskin, always. Treat hot spots the moment you feel them. Take your shoes off at every break. Elevate when you can.

Pace, distance, and rest days.

Start shorter than you think you need to. The same distance feels completely different on day one versus day eight. Build in rest days — even half days. Sleep in. Sit in a café. Watch other pilgrims shuffle past looking exactly how you feel. This is not failing. This is tactics.

Drink more water than you think you need. Electrolytes. Snacks in your hip belt pocket. Your blood sugar does not care that you're having a spiritual experience.

Albergues: ask for the lower bunk.

Top bunks on wobbly ladders at the end of a 20km day are their own special adventure. When booking ahead, leave a note requesting a lower bunk due to injury. It has never once been a problem. And if you want a private room — do it. Sleep is sacred. Showing up rested is the whole game.

Walking with a partner: have the pace talk at home.

If your partner has a longer stride, that gap shows up fast and feels personal even when it isn't. Agree in advance to start mornings together, then split and meet at rest stops or the end of the day. Walking alone on the Camino is not a punishment. It is one of the best parts.

The same goes for people you meet on the trail. When paces don't match, let them go. Your people are out there walking your exact rhythm. You will find them.

The part nobody puts in the guidebooks.

I wasn't thinking about my size when I started my first Camino. And then, before I'd taken a single step, someone pointed at a tall, strong, larger woman and said to me, "Don't worry — if she can do it, you can do it."

I hadn't been worried. And I certainly wasn't worried about the woman she was pointing at, who looked like she could walk through a wall. But that comment burrowed in anyway. It showed up on the hard days, on the long climbs, on the stretches where I was already hard on myself.

I never saw that woman from the bus again after Zubiri. But the woman from St. Jean? I saw her walking into Santiago the same afternoon I arrived. We both made it. In the bodies we had. Exactly as they were.

I'm smaller now than I was on that first Camino. I want to be honest about that. But the blisters didn't care. The hills didn't care. The hard days were still hard. And the magic was always the same. The Camino meets you exactly where you are, in whatever body showed up that day.

This is bigger than the Camino.

Here's what I know as a health coach who has walked this trail and worked with people navigating major body transformation: so many of us spend years living on hold. Waiting until we're smaller, faster, fitter, more deserving. Postponing the hike, the trip, the life.

The Camino has a way of breaking that pattern open. You find out what your body can actually do when you stop waiting for permission to use it. And that discovery — that shift from "someday" to "right now, in this body" — is exactly what I work with clients on every day at Wandermoon Collective.

If you walked the Camino and felt something shift, or if you're planning to and want support for what comes next, I'd love to connect.

If this resonated with you and you're ready to do more than just walk — if you're ready to actually come alive in your body again — I'd love to connect. That's what Wandermoon Collective is all about.

This content is for educational purposes and reflects personal experience and coaching perspectives. It is not medical advice.