There can’t be many authors who have dedicated their book to a donkey. But then, there aren’t many who would take one on a 500-mile trek across northern Spain. That’s what Tim Moore did, and the result is an entertaining and informative account of his journey to the pilgrimage site of Santiago de Compostela. 

Quirky one minute, cranky the next, Moore manages to gouge out the extraordinary from the everyday. The people he encounters become players in his crazy theatre of life, while he spares no ridicule for himself as he does battle against the elements, the landscape and his stubborn travelling companion.

Previous journeys have taken Moore across the London Monopoly board and the Tour de France route. So, making this pilgrimage in a conventional way just wouldn’t do. Realising the journey will require a shed-load of equipment, he certainly doesn’t want to be tainted with the label of a backpacker: “People with rucksacks don’t have fun, or if they do it’s the sort that involves a Thermos flask and brass rubbing.”

The solution, when it comes to him, is heaven-sent. A donkey carried Christ into Jerusalem, so what more appropriate beast of burden to carry the author's beastly burden on his own Via Dolorosa?

It becomes clear that Moore’s main purpose is not merely to complete the arduous journey with a moody mule but to recount how he did it. In other words, (and you’ll have been expecting this) he pins the tale on the donkey.

Shinto is indeed the star of the show, with more character in one of his animated ears than many of the two-legged pilgrims trudging along the camino. The author’s early attempts to get the reluctant creature across a wooden slatted bridge signals the beginning of a vexatious relationship between one man and his donk. Yet, as they make steady progress across the back of northern Spain, there is a bonding. Nothing untoward, of course, but eventually they reach an understanding about who’s really in charge – and it’s not the one with only two legs.

There are some genuinely sticky moments. During one especially arduous stretch when Shinto sinks to the ground, Moore is seriously concerned about his wonkey donkey. His remedy for setting Shinto back on his hooves is as surprising for the donkey as it is entertaining for the reader.

Moore has to face all of the challenges of any other pilgrim, but his difficulties in locating food and accommodation are compounded by the need to find somewhere to park his donkey. Some of the locals are helpful, some refuse them both point blank, while others provide the unlikeliest assistance. A drunken fireman, for instance, offers Shinto sanctuary in a deserted bullring.