Well, I just finished crying from the last chapter. So that's nice.

(Not because it was sad, of course. It was just a beautiful ending.)

[*long exhale]

I feel like it's very difficult for an author of a memoir to portray themselves in an honest light, without prejudice. I definitely wouldn't be able to do it. Well, McCarthy did, and I was impressed. It would've been easy for him to hide the less attractive parts, to excuse his occasional attitude and mistakes as a reasonable reaction to the long journey or his son's teenage aggravation. But he didn't. He was authentic in portraying his faults, and he didn't do it in a “I'm being gracious for my son and the readers” way, either. He was humble; it felt raw and open.

On top of being honest, McCarthy is funny when he wants to be, poetic when he wants to be, intelligent most of the time, and a loving and loyal husband and father all the time. At the beginning, I thought I was mostly along for Sam*, but the farther I got into the story the more I grew to love Andrew and his candid voice. Watching the two navigate their relationship together was very special; it felt like I was being let in on something secret and sacred.

Another fun aspect was the people they met and talked to along the way. Sam is very friendly and comfortable with strangers, which means the readers receive a variety of diverse Camino stories, weaving in and out of McCarthy's own walk. Their perspectives added another (appreciated) dimension.

So yes, I would recommend this. Especially to someone who wants a breath of Spain and doesn't mind a spoonful of relationship philosophy mixed in (and can handle a bit of swearing).

Now—anyone want to walk the Camino with me?

*Sam is full of life, random and bursting with spontaneity. His comments and just general personality make for some good laughs (and I cried in the end because of him, too). As much as I loved Andrew, the story without Sam would not have been nearly as enjoyable.