Santiago de Compostela - Only a year ago Rosi Brueggenwerth could hardly walk. A serious cycling accident had left her with a broken hip, a pelvic fracture and a potentially life-threatening blockage in the lung artery known as a pulmonary embolism. She now wants to rediscover her body and so she has embarked upon a spiritual as well as physical journey.

"Getting there is what keeps you going," says the slim 60-year-old Rossi as she strides along. She is blonde and still enjoys wearing make-up. She also carries a rucksack on her back weighing eight kilogrammes with a scallop dangling from it. The scallop is a symbol of the pilgrimage to the Cathedral of Santiago de Compostela in Galacia in northern Spain.

By the time she reaches her destination, Rossi will have taken a million steps along the approximately 700 kilometre path from Pamplona to Santiago de Compostela, where the remains of the apostle St. James are said to be buried. Rossi wants to see how she copes with the ardours of the month-long journey. Spurred by a desire for self-discovery, she looks forward to the sense of achievement on g completing the pilgrimage. Between those two wishes lies a route which pilgrims have trodden for centuries.

The Way of St. James is one of the great Christian pilgrimages along with the roads to Rome and Jerusalem. In the Middle Ages, travellers set off with the hope of finding a miraculous cure for disease along the way or simply forgiveness for their sins. Today some 100,000 people take the St. James' Way every year and many of them hope not so much to discover God as themselves.

A Canadian tells that he embarked on the pilgrimage twice as a prelude to taking an important decision. After the first pilgrimage, he gave up his job as a chemist and became a musician, after the second journey he separated from his wife. This time around he is just enjoying the scenery without any soul-searching to go with it.

Even though many prefer to walk alone, the crowds in some of the places along the way make it clear just how many pilgrims are underway. One of the key stations on the pilgrimage is the highest point of the route at Cruz del ferro. Tradition has it that each pilgrim adds a stone to the cairn at the foot of the iron cross which gives the point its name. It lies some 200 kilometres away from the end of the route in Galicia.

The pilgrimage route is a time-honoured one and travellers need do no more than follow the scallop symbol through Spain - passing across a mixture of fields, metalled roads, forest glades and rocky outcrops along the way.

The path leads though the Basque country, Navarra, Rioja, Castilian-Leon and Galicia. Each province is like a country in its own right. Some places are more memorable than others - like the mystical villages in Galicia where storks have made their nests on the church towers, the impressive cathedral in Leon or the tiered vineyards of Rioja.

The scenery along the route varies but even pilgrims have their daily routine. It begins with the same familiar sounds. Loud snoring can be heard in the dormitories where up to 80 pilgrims spend the night together in sleeping bags. When the first pilgrims awake, there is rustling of plastic carriers full of socks, underclothes and toiletries before everything is safely stowed in the rucksacks. Beams of light from many torches flicker across the faces of those still resting as eager pilgrims set off in the early hours. Many are on the road before the break of day.

The average traveller manages to cover between 20 and 30 kilometres a day which equates to a walk of between five and eight hours, depending on the terrain. Each pilgrim advances at his or her own pace.

Those taking part range from lively pensioners with telescopic walking sticks at the ready to enthusiastic young students. Occasionally a marathon runner comes into view, checks his pulse and utters a quick "Bon Camino!" (Have a good journey!) before flitting past. Another seemingly indefatigable participant is an elderly Italian lady who trudges along in her linen shoes and heavy bible with a permanent smile on her face.

The last few metres to the dormitories are usually the hardest for all the pilgrims who then have time to attend to their tired bodies and their luggage.

The scene here is reminiscent of a field hospital and there is a strong smell of damp socks and overheated shoes. In one corner, a woman from Hungary is massaging the feet of a fellow pilgrim while in the communal kitchen a British man is drying his shoes with a hair- dryer. An American lady is loudly counting her tally of blisters.

The Way itself is the dominant subject over evening meal, which usually consists of meat served with fried chips washed down with red wine. The talk is of hills which did not prove quite as steep as was feared, or of the searing heat on long, shadowless sections of the route and the sudden, angry squalls of rain.

Not everyone manages to complete the journey.

"Many people overestimate their ability and I've seen quite a few give up altogether," said Rosi Brueggenwerth. For those who persevere, the view from Monte do Gozo with the imposing cathedral of Santiago is a reward in itself.

The end of this path is almost nigh, yet for many it may seem like an eternity is needed to complete the last section of the path to the church entrance.

In the square outside the great house of worship happy pilgrims hug and congratulate each other at having achieved their aim. Most feel obliged to inspect the tomb where the remains of St. James are said to lay and to receive a hurriedly mumbled blessing from the duty priest.