So I decided to head back to Spain to walk the Camino de Santiago again. Something about the peregrino (pilgrim) lifestyle, with its extreme simplicity, has proved irresistible and I feel compelled to return.
I leave for Spain Monday, March 26, 2018, and will make my way by bus and train to St. Jean Pied-de-Port in southwestern France, just north of the Pyrenees at the Spanish-French border. I'll strap on my 15-lb backpack containing the barest of necessities -- no need for camping gear, as I'll be staying in albergues (pilgrim hostels), and will walk along the Camino Frances (the French Way) through rural northern Spain to the city of Santiago de Compostela.
There are many Camino routes across Europe, but the Camino Frances is the most famous, well-traveled, and well-supported. From Santiago I will continue to Finisterre on the Atlantic coast (in less enlightened times, Cape Finisterre was widely believed to be the literal end of the earth). Afterwards, I will be a Camino volunteer for two weeks in the Oficina del Peregrino in Santiago.
There are many Camino routes across Europe, but the Camino Frances is the most famous, well-traveled, and well-supported. From Santiago I will continue to Finisterre on the Atlantic coast (in less enlightened times, Cape Finisterre was widely believed to be the literal end of the earth). Afterwards, I will be a Camino volunteer for two weeks in the Oficina del Peregrino in Santiago.
In all, this will be a journey of approximately 550 miles (890 km) on foot. I'm in no rush, and will take my time to avoid injury. Here's a visual:
If you're wondering what the Camino is, here's a link explaining.
If you're wondering why someone would walk across a country, this lovely 4-minute video explains it pretty nicely.
If you're wondering why someone would walk across a country, this lovely 4-minute video explains it pretty nicely.
Background: I first walked the Camino Frances in April-May 2017 after getting laid off from a long-term job. My son was about to graduate from college, freeing me from significant financial responsibility. It was transition time, and I was eager to "clear the lint trap," as my son put it. Also, I had recently lost a lot of weight and was curious to test-drive my stronger body see if I could actually walk 500 miles. And I did! Thankfully the Camino is fairly level but for a few moderately challenging spots -- a great first hike for a novice like me. It is less strenuous and better supported than, say, the Pacific Crest Trail or the Appalachian Trail. I averaged 15 miles a day with no injuries, aside from a few minor blisters. I had a fantastic time, and ever since, I have been haunted by a desire to return.
The only real downside to making a Camino journey is that it's totally addictive. After decades of being a single mom and dedicated employee, I found the near-total freedom from responsibility and decision-making to be practically euphoric. I absolutely loved the simplicity of living out of a backpack with just a single change of clothes. My sole "job" for five weeks was to get up and walk west, following the little yellow arrows and scallop shells that mark the Camino route, which flows westward like a one-way river of people towards Santiago. Food, water, and lodging are readily available -- I was never more than five miles from some kind of amenity. Never in my life have I spent all day, every day, for weeks on end, outside in the fresh air. Heaven!
I had brought my iPod because I had imagined it might get boring at times to walk for hours and hours... but only used it a few times, briefly, and found it to be an unwelcome distraction. The soundtrack of the Camino is the birdsong, the breeze, the rhythmic crunch of the trail beneath your feet, and, if you like, interesting conversations with people from all over world.
As has been the case for many centuries, every small village and city along the Camino is geared to provide support to the tired and hungry peregrino. Tap water never tasted so good. I slept like a baby in the modest public albergues, and although my feet were sore and throbbing at the end of each day, every morning I woke up energized and rarin' to go. I didn't take a single rest day in 34 days. Did not know I had it in me!
For me the Camino was an extended exercise in being fully present in the moment. I made no advance lodging reservations or plans. I followed my impulses, stopped when I was tired, ate when I was hungry, found company when I wanted it, and solitude when I needed it. This sounds almost ridiculously simple, but it was profoundly different than my non-Camino life, where my head is always full of some kind of worry or plan or distraction.
There is something very special and indefinable about the Camino. I was deeply aware that I was walking along a sacred path that had been trod by millions of feet over many centuries -- some long stretches of the Camino are ancient Roman roads paved with stones laid out over 2,000 years ago. The ground itself seems blessed, to say nothing of the scores of medieval churches and chapels, both vast and humble, that dot the Way. Though I was raised Catholic, I am not a religious person in the traditional sense, but I am aware of a mystery greater than myself, and that mystery is somehow more readily accessible along the Camino.
Many people speak of Camino magic, and it is a real thing. Whatever was needed for body and soul would magically appear, just in time. I gave and received food, water, first aid supplies, gifts, money, prayers, encouragement, and memorable conversations. Whether it was a band-aid, a redirect when I wandered off-trail, an unattended table of fruit and snacks in the middle of nowhere, a lost item mysteriously recovered, or a friend pointing the way to a warm and welcoming albergue when I arrived weary in a town at the end of a long day, the Camino always provided. Synchronicities abound so frequently that you begin to take them for granted.
Like most peregrinos, I ended my 2017 Camino in the beautiful city of Santiago, and despite the joy of collecting my compostela (certificate of completion), something about that journey felt incomplete. I very much wanted to continue the additional 55 miles (90 km) from Santiago to Finisterre... there's something deeply symbolic about walking from the Pyrenees, crossing several mountain ranges, and finally to touch the Atlantic Ocean ... but I had to return to the U.S. to celebrate my son's college graduation -- another memorable rite of passage.
Returning to my regular life, post-Camino, was difficult. I felt profoundly disoriented for weeks, baffled by its noise, complexity, and emptiness. The only relief was to take as many long walks as possible. Fortunately, I am blessed to live in San Francisco, which is an amazing place to explore on foot, and I have traversed nearly all of its 47 square miles over the past several months. That has been my solace and my inspiration.
And so... a year later, life has once again blessed me with the health, strength, and freedom of schedule to make this amazing Camino journey one more time. Many people wonder why, with so much of the world to explore, I would return to Spain to make the same trek. It is hard to put in words, but I know I am not alone. Last year I met many peregrinos who were making their second, fifth, or 20th Camino... and I also privately wondered why they would repeat the experience. I can't really explain it... but now I understand.
I wasn't much of a correspondent on last year's Camino, as I wanted to experience it rather than focus on documenting it. Most days I was too tired or too busy socializing to write. So, no promises, but I will post occasional updates, and if nothing else, more photos than I did last year. Stay tuned.
