Walking the Camino de Santiago vs. Buying a House in Australia: A Journey of Pain, Regret & Triumph

I never thought I'd compare buying a house to walking the Camino de Santiago, but after doing both, I’ve realised they share a shocking number of similarities. Both involve months (or years) of obsessive planning, financial panic, and moments where you question all your life choices. Both make you wonder, "Why did I do this to myself?"—only to find yourself bragging about it later, conveniently forgetting the trauma involved.

Here’s the rundown of two wildly different experiences that somehow feel identical.

The Planning Stage: The Illusion of Control

Before walking the Camino, I spent way too many hours debating gear. Did I need extra socks? A knee brace? A ridiculously overpriced ultralight backpack? I convinced myself that having the perfect checklist would ensure a smooth journey. Spoiler: it did not.

Buying a house had the exact same energy. I spent months scrolling through realestate.com.au, comparing suburbs, obsessing over floor plans, and convincing myself that paying $50,000 more for a slightly better view was “a good investment.” Despite my meticulous spreadsheet of pros and cons, the process was just as unpredictable and exhausting as the Camino.

And much like the rookie hikers who pack too much and regret carrying unnecessary weight, I made the classic homebuyer mistake of considering houses way above my budget, only to realise I’d have to live on instant noodles for ten years if I went ahead.

The First Steps: Crushing Realities

On the Camino, the first few days were brutal. My feet rebelled, my back screamed, and my stomach hated me for eating nothing but Spanish ham and bread. The romantic idea of a peaceful pilgrimage vanished immediately.

Buying a house felt painfully similar. The first mortgage meeting? Confusing. Stamp duty? A financial crime. The home loan process? Endless. I went in thinking I had it all figured out, only to feel completely out of my depth before I had even made an offer.

I remember attending my first open house, full of misplaced confidence, expecting a casual browse. Instead, I walked into a battlefield, dodging competitive buyers, aggressive agents, and one woman who pulled out a measuring tape and started muttering about “feng shui.” It was worse than trying to grab a spot in a crowded hostel on the Camino, where tired pilgrims stare each other down over the last available bed.

The Emotional Spiral: FOMO vs. Buyer’s Remorse

On the Camino, I constantly experienced FOMO (Fear of Missing Out). Some people walked faster, others stayed at nicer albergues, and a few had perfectly broken-in hiking boots while I limped through Spain like a wounded soldier. I kept wondering, did I choose the wrong route?

Buying a house? Same existential crisis, different circumstances. I spent weeks second-guessing my choice. Did I pay too much? Was this the wrong suburb? Why does my neighbour own five cats and a rooster? The regret sneaks up on you, making you question your ability to make rational decisions.

At one point, I convinced myself that I had completely ruined my future because I didn’t bid on a house that had a slightly larger pantry than the one I ended up buying. Much like how I once spent an entire Camino afternoon sulking because another pilgrim had better quality wool socks than me.

Unexpected Obstacles: Angry Cows vs. Dodgy Real Estate Agents

The Camino presents unexpected challenges, like wandering into a field of cows with intense territorial energy or arriving at a hostel to find there are zero beds left.

Buying a house also has its share of surprises—dodgy real estate agents, overpriced inspections, confusing contracts, and finding out that your dream home has plumbing issues that will drain your savings faster than your morning coffee.

I once had an agent tell me with a straight face that a house with a sloping kitchen floor was “a unique feature, not a problem.” On the Camino, I had a hostel owner tell me that the terrifying bunk beds held together with duct tape were “charming.” In both cases, I reconsidered all my life choices.

The Final Stretch: Pain & Glory

As I neared Santiago, my legs ached, my feet were destroyed, and my diet had devolved into nothing but cheap wine and questionable tapas. But I pushed through, knowing the moment I stood before the cathedral, it would all be worth it.

With buying a house, settlement day finally arrived. My wallet was empty, my patience non-existent, and the home loan felt like a lifelong sentence. But the moment I stepped into my new home, the stress melted away.

Both journeys end with exhaustion and triumph, and both make you swear you’ll never do it again—only to find yourself browsing Camino forums or real estate listings a few years later.

Final Thoughts: Was It Worth It?

Walking the Camino de Santiago and buying a house in Australia are terrible but beautiful experiences that test your endurance, patience, and sanity. Both will make you cry, both will break you emotionally, and both will eventually make you feel like an unstoppable champion.

If you need help with the property journey, consider a buyer’s agent—kind of like a Camino guide, but instead of avoiding blisters, they help you avoid financial ruin.

And if you happen to need advice on both real estate and foot care, you’re in luck! De Heeren Property Buyers Advocates offers a complimentary consultation to help you navigate the madness of buying a house AND prevent blisters on the way to securing your dream home. Who says real estate agents can’t be multi-talented?

Contact us now