Tomás Martínez de Paz, who welcomed pilgrims to his Templar refuge near Cruz de Ferro for over 30 years, has passed away.
If you've walked the Camino Frances, chances are you've heard of him. The bearded figure in white robes with a red Templar cross, ringing a bell from his crumbling refuge in Manjarín. Tomás Martínez de Paz—the self-proclaimed last Knight Templar—passed away on January 16th, 2025. And with him, something irreplaceable has left the Camino.
With almost nothing—no electricity, no running water, and certainly no business plan—he restored an old building and began offering what he could: coffee, hot broth, a place to rest. For over three decades, he welcomed pilgrims from every corner of the world, asking nothing in return beyond whatever each person felt moved to give.
He would ring a bell when walkers approached—just as the medieval Templars did—especially on days when fog rolled thick across the mountains and the path became treacherous. His albergue, Los Templarios, operated as something between a refuge and a monastery. Three daily prayers. Simple living. Radical hospitality.
I remember passing through Manjarín on my third Camino. The place looked like it might collapse at any moment (and parts of it eventually did). But there was Tomás, offering café con leche from a battered pot, his dogs wandering between pilgrims. It wasn't comfortable. It wasn't Instagram-worthy. It was something better—it was real.
The Albergue Parroquial Domus Dei de Foncebadón remembered him as "a good man, selfless and affable" and "an irreplaceable figure of the Camino."
His funeral was held at the Basílica de la Encina in Ponferrada, and the outpouring of tributes from around the world speaks to how many lives he touched.
The Camino continues, as it always has. But that stretch between Cruz de Ferro and Molinaseca will feel different now. Quieter. A little emptier.
Buen Camino, Tomás. And thank you.
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Try asking My Camino Guide:
- Tell me about Cruz de Ferro
- What is the history of the Knights Templar on the Camino?
- Plan my walk from Rabanal to Molinaseca
A Life Dedicated to Pilgrims
Tomás arrived in Manjarín in 1993 when the village was completely abandoned. Just a cluster of ruins at 1,450 metres altitude, between Foncebadón and the descent into El Bierzo. Most people saw rubble. He saw purpose.With almost nothing—no electricity, no running water, and certainly no business plan—he restored an old building and began offering what he could: coffee, hot broth, a place to rest. For over three decades, he welcomed pilgrims from every corner of the world, asking nothing in return beyond whatever each person felt moved to give.
The Last Templar
Tomás called himself the last of the Knights Templar, and whilst that claim was more spiritual than historical, it captured something true about who he was. He saw himself as continuing their original mission: protecting and guiding pilgrims on the way to Santiago.He would ring a bell when walkers approached—just as the medieval Templars did—especially on days when fog rolled thick across the mountains and the path became treacherous. His albergue, Los Templarios, operated as something between a refuge and a monastery. Three daily prayers. Simple living. Radical hospitality.
I remember passing through Manjarín on my third Camino. The place looked like it might collapse at any moment (and parts of it eventually did). But there was Tomás, offering café con leche from a battered pot, his dogs wandering between pilgrims. It wasn't comfortable. It wasn't Instagram-worthy. It was something better—it was real.
The Final Years
In April 2022, part of the roof collapsed. Tomás, who had already undergone open-heart surgery, was no longer allowed to make the climb to Manjarín. He spent his final years in Villafranca del Bierzo, though he never stopped advocating for pilgrims. He used social media to report weather conditions, warn of dangers on the mountain passes, and call for a more humane Camino.The Albergue Parroquial Domus Dei de Foncebadón remembered him as "a good man, selfless and affable" and "an irreplaceable figure of the Camino."
What He Leaves Behind
Tomás represented something that's increasingly rare on the Camino: hospitality without transaction. He wasn't running a business. He was living a vocation. In a world where albergues increasingly resemble budget hotels and the path sometimes feels more like a hiking trail than a pilgrimage, he was a stubborn reminder of what the Camino was meant to be.His funeral was held at the Basílica de la Encina in Ponferrada, and the outpouring of tributes from around the world speaks to how many lives he touched.
The Camino continues, as it always has. But that stretch between Cruz de Ferro and Molinaseca will feel different now. Quieter. A little emptier.
Buen Camino, Tomás. And thank you.
---
Try asking My Camino Guide:
- Tell me about Cruz de Ferro
- What is the history of the Knights Templar on the Camino?
- Plan my walk from Rabanal to Molinaseca