After years of an emotionally abusive marriage, divorce, and separation from his daughter, Mark West flies to Europe after hearing about a 600-mile pilgrimage route across Spain called the Camino de Santiago at a dive beach bar called The Poopdeck on the Southern California coast.

Besides the characters Mark meets (Kento the Chain Smoking Beer Guzzling Zen Patron Saint of the Camino), and the places he sees (Spain reminded me of California, except for the lack of superficial people, vegans, surfers, show biz wannabes, joggers, traffic, smog, shitty rapid transit, earthquakes, women in yoga pants, self-absorbed teens and the high price of vehicle registration…) he grapples with the shitbag of emotions that sent him there- emotional abuse, separation from his daughter, and dreams of suicide.

He writes about these things and his resultant healing and forgiveness with humor, candor, and heart-wrenching pathos. In the end, “It’s A Long Walk Home…” is a book about hope. And bocadillos. But as he always says- “what the fuck does he know?”

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