Late one evening in 2009 I was doing a Google search (I don’t really remember what it was for now) and I stumbled upon an ancient route across northern Spain that was gaining popularity as a walking route for hiking enthusiasts. In those days, I was not, in any way, a hiking enthusiast or even nearly athletic in any sense of the word. But for some reason, it intrigued me and sparked my interest. I didn’t get very far in researching it that evening. It was late and I found the search results I was seeking and went on with my evening.
A year later, my husband and I turned on Netflix for the first time and the movie being featured was “The Way” with Martin Sheen and Emilio Estevez. Without any inkling of what it was about, I felt compelled to watch it and very soon after elated to find out it was about the Camino de Santiago — the route across northern Spain that had come up in my search a year before.
The Camino De Santiago is known in English as The Way of St. James among other names. It is a network of walking trails/roads serving pilgrimage to the shrine of the apostle Saint James the Great in the Cathedral of Santiago de Compostela in Galicia in northwestern Spain, where tradition has it that the remains of the saint are buried (see map). Today, many people follow these routes as a form of spiritual path or retreat for their spiritual growth. It is also popular with hiking and cycling enthusiasts and organized groups.
The Way, or the route to Santiago De Compostela, was declared the first European Cultural Route by the Council of Europe in 1987. It was also named one of UNESCO’s World Heritage Sites. Since the 1980’s the route has attracted a growing number of modern-day international pilgrims.
The French Way (Camino Frances) is the most popular of the routes. It runs from Saint-Jean-Pied-de-Port on the French side of the Pyrenees to Roncesvalles on the Spanish side before making its way through to Santiago de Compostela through the major cities of Pamplona, Logrono, Burgos and Leon. This route takes approximately 4 weeks to walk and is approximately 750 km/500 miles.
Aside from “The Way” being a beautifully depicted film with breathtaking scenery, I instinctively knew I had to go there. But there were obstacles. To name a few; my husband had just been diagnosed with terminal cancer, I had a full-time job, and was facing some difficult times ahead on the home front. A walk across Spain was not anywhere in my horizon.
But, in those days, I was just learning that the Universe has a sense of humor.
Fast forward to 2016. I was living with my mother after my husband’s passing and convinced her to get Netflix. What pops up as the featured movie? You guessed it, The Way. By then, having lived 56 years on this earth, I no longer believed in coincidences. So I treated myself to this fine film once more, enjoying it much even more this time. More so because my Mom was watching it for the first time and found it fascinating.
This sparked what would be the first of many lively conversations between my Mom and me. I backtracked with her to the night I “accidentally” came across this route on that Google search and how I felt about it to the time I saw the movie and how I had felt I had to go there. What I wasn’t expecting was the question she asked me; “What are you waiting for?”
Those who have walked the Camino de Santiago say that “your Camino starts on the day you start preparing for it “. This was certainly true for me.
During the 24 months that followed, I lived in a new reality. There was much to research, prepare and train for a project like this. Since I was not able to take 4 weeks off work, I decided to start walking in Leon, Spain — about the halfway point — 300 km/184 miles from the destination of Santiago de Compostela. It was a route that combined different paths that would allow me to get to see the great variety of possibilities that the Camino de Santiago had to offer.
I was referred to the South Florida Chapter of American Pilgrims on the Camino — a local support group of experienced “Peregrinos” or Pilgrims who welcomed me, a “first timer”, and many other “veterans” of the Camino and provided mentorship while going on walks together at different Florida locations on the second Sunday of every month. I am infinitely grateful for these folks, many of which I now consider friends, for their advice and assistance throughout my preparation and all the way up to the day I left for my Camino.
In addition to walking with the group on a monthly basis, I walked a total of 15–20 miles per week consistently for over the course of a year. Sometimes I trained on bridges and multi-level parking lots to simulate hills. During the month before I was to leave, I walked with my backpack on to get used to the weight. My backpack contained only the necessary items I would need — a change of clothes (planned to wash my clothes each day, quick dry underwear, a microfiber towel, sandals for the shower and the afternoon and minimal toiletries). It weighed (as recommended) no more than 10% of my body weight (13 lbs.). I was planning to walk it like the original pilgrims — carrying everything in my backpack and sleeping at “albergues” (communal hostels) along the way.
Finally, on a late August evening, after 15 hours of combined travel (flight, bus & taxi), I arrived at my first albergue in Leon, Spain and began my Camino the following morning. I felt excitement tinged with uncertainty about what lay ahead on this trail.
That first day taught me that, as much as I prepared physically, I was unprepared for the impact this journey would have on me. I had never been able to understand total physical collapse — something that is within my experience now. I posted in Facebook every night in order to form a chronological electronic diary of the journey.
And so I went on like this for 14 days; gathering my belongings and walking out into the predawn darkness for another day of 13–15 miles walking and ready to face my fate for the rest of the day. Each day I sauntered through a still and serene universe and always the protective presence of the mountains. Each afternoon I would arrive at a different albergue in a different town, stupefied with fatigue and hit the rickety aluminum bunk bed like a dead fish. I will always be grateful for the kind and generous nature of the “simple people” who attended the albergues in this part of Spain.
Day after day, I meandered alternately through woods and across fields. There were entire days when there was little trace of the scent of humankind. Then there were days that I shared the Camino with other pilgrims, passing each other like ships in the night. The rhythmic pounding of our staffs hitting the ground, as if an invisible conductor was keeping the beat. Day after day pilgrims share bedrooms, bathrooms, hopes and fears, joys and sorrows with complete strangers, and a comfortable intimacy develops.
I developed a deep appreciation for the beautiful, diverse landscape of northern Spain, walking through forests so dense that daylight turned into night and felt amazingly mystical. When I was in the mountains, the top of hills around me stood out as islands in the mist of puffy white clouds.
Through the heat and the chill, the mountains and valleys and the gentle, restorative mist, this journey was a rigorous as it was magnificent.
When I reached the fabled city of Santiago de Compostela on the 14th day of my journey, I experienced a profound sense of loss knowing it had come to an end. I will always be grateful for this remarkable adventure. The Camino will always be a deeply engrained part of me. With every step, I was practicing the art of being alive. I will treasure those days and hope to be back someday.
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