I like walking. Fortunately, so does my wife.
Our longest walk is the South West Coast Path [1]. It took us seven years to cover all 630 miles, fitting in a week here and there while we worked full-time.
Our second longest walk is the Camino Francés [2], a more modest 500 miles. We completed this in one go, over a leisurely couple of months earlier this year.
Why all in one go? Because we can. We don’t have to work now.
This is why I invest.
My interest in investing is not for its own sake but because it will allow me to go for long walks. Really long walks.
Against the flow
The Camino Francés runs from the French side of the Pyrenees, through northern Spain to Santiago de Compostela in the west of the country, where traditionally pilgrims would visit the shrine of St James.
But, to the surprise, amusement – and occasionally horror – of other pilgrims, we walked it in reverse. Somehow it felt more natural to be walking away from civilisation and towards the mountains.
This meant we would typically start and end our daily walk alone but meet a lot of people going the other way around the middle of the day.
There must be a contrarian investing metaphor in there somewhere.
The cost
You don’t need the investing success of Warren Buffett [3] to walk the Camino. It’s possible to get by on very little if you choose the right hostels.
And when your path takes you through El Bierzo, La Rioja, and Navarra you can always find a decent red to go with your paella, whatever your means.
We didn’t scrimp – I like a nice room and a decent meal after a long walk – but we still ended up spending less in those two months walking than we normally do living at home. We don’t need more money to go walking.
If my preferred pastime was motor sports or polo then I would need a very different financial plan (and probably to have worked a different career).
But it’s not. I like walking. And I’m happy about that.
The Meseta
The heart of the Camino Francés is the Meseta; a vast high plateau of beautiful monotony. If you’re going to have an epiphany on your pilgrimage, then this is where it will happen.
It took us eight days to walk across the Meseta, from León to Burgos. Plenty of time to think about life. Many of the people we met were grappling with some sort of work, relationship, or existential conundrum.
For the most part, my inner thoughts would not be of much interest to you – and may be embarrassing for me.
But I did dwell for a while on the nature of my retirement.
Retirement
I’m still uncomfortable with the word retirement. It seems too negative, like I’ve just given up. Even now, I hesitate awkwardly when people ask me what I do.
I stopped working a couple of years ago. It was the right time. I’d worked hard, done some long hours, had some success, and the joy in it was beginning to ebb.
And, of course, our investments had reached the point [4] where paid work was optional.
I wasn’t short of advice on what I should do when I gave up work. Some of it solicited, some of it not.
One thing everyone was sure about was that I would need to keep myself busy. I should work part time, or do some consulting, or volunteer for a charity. At the very least I should keep a structured routine.
I was warned that many people became bored and depressed when they retire – and end up going back to work [5] or spiralling down into a Cash in the Attic torpor.
But despite this advice, I didn’t take on anything new straightaway. We were already renovating a house and had just had a new grandchild. I gave myself some space (as the self-help books like to say) to think about things for a while.
I quite enjoyed that space. And then we went walking.
Out on the Meseta, I decided that I would ignore all the advice. Simply put, I really like not working. I don’t want another job, or objectives, or more dates in my diary.
The only routine I value is the simple rhythm of a long trail: walk, drink, eat, sleep.
The least important things hold my interest; the smallest things give me joy. I’m not the same person I was when I worked.
FIRE, aim, ready
Perhaps you know exactly what you’ll be doing when you finally stop work. But I’m figuring it out as I go along.
Who knows, maybe I’ll change my mind again and retrain as an accountant next year.
It’s prudent to occasionally remind yourself of your reasons [6] for investing. It’s hard to make good investing decisions if you’re not clear on why you’re doing it.
That doesn’t mean though that you need your future mapped out in detail and set in stone.
You’ll get plenty of advice on retirement. Some you may even find useful. Feel free to discard the rest. Only you will know what’s right.
The end?
On our last day on the Camino, it rained. The beautiful views on the descent to Saint-Jean-Pied-de-Port were lost behind low cloud.
That’s part of walking. Some you win and some you lose.
The next day I started planning another walk: the Via di Francesco, from Rome to Florence through the Apennines.
I’m confident my money will last [7]. What I don’t know is how many years of pack-carrying trail walking I’ve got left in me.
I intend to make the most of them while I can.
Buen Camino!