My way to St. James

Day 58 of the project, 
Prague, Czech Republic

Each person walks their own camino on the Way of St. James. Though there are definitely some distinct categories. A few dedicated Catholic souls walk the Camino for the original religious ritual. Some people simply want a holiday of walking the countryside. Others are looking for a fitness challenge. Many more are seeking spiritual (though not necessarily religious) guidance or insight. It can be all or none of these reasons.

My camino started as intrigue ten years ago during my study abroad in Alicante. A Spanish friend told me about an ancient pilgrimage route that Christians took to worship the remains of St. James. While it sounded like an adventure, my thoughts at the time were decidedly focused on Italy. Over the years, I've heard snippets from people and the media about the Camino de Santiago. Martin Sheen and Emilio Estevez even made a movie about the Way. But ultimately I decided to undertake the Camino as a way of reconnecting with myself during my six month adventure. So if one wishes to classify my pilgrimage, it was a spiritual journey. A good short summation.

The longer story is that the Camino was more than I could have hoped for, despite its unintended brevity. My original plan was to begin in San Sebastián and walk the entire 800 kilometers (a little over 500 miles) to Santiago. And that is how it began...five near perfect days that took me from a gorgeous beach community to the slightly industrial but very beautiful Bilbao. I was meeting wonderful people from around the world. Trying (and getting slightly tipsy) on the different varieties of orujo. Eating dry bocadillos by day and pinxtos by night. Sleeping in enormous dorms filled with other smelly walkers. It was exactly as I imagined.

Days six through ten were spent recovering from the Achilles' injury in Madrid. In hindsight though, this setback was a gift. Unlike the hostels, I was isolated in my hotel room. I was able to grieve properly for Don Gato and to enjoy a short self-pity party for my leg. And then to deeply think, without the interruption of other walkers, the sights along the road, or anything else. The time was a luxury. I dug into myself and confronted emotions that are hard to address. I also made some decisions about the remaining six weeks in Europe. And researched continuing university courses through a free online program.

Once I was ready to return to the Camino, I knew I would not be able to pick up where I stopped. So I decided that the lovely city of Lugo....exactly 100 kilometers from Santiago...would be the perfect place to start again. If the pain started, I could slow down and alternate days of walking and resting.

It was the right decision. As fate would have it, I met a group of pilgrims in the Lugo. One of them asked me to join their group. The people were a great mix; I felt so lucky to be welcomed into the group and to have so many thoughtful conversations. And some crazy overcrowded stays in pilgrims' hostels (though I now hate the word "completo" after many fruitless attempts at finding housing).

My feelings upon arrival in Santiago de Compostela were mixed. My leg held up (though I could feel it on the last 40km slog) and my body and mind were not ready to stop walking. As I sat in front of the Cathedral, I waited for my heart to say something. But my heart had said everything it needed to say and I knew it.

In the end, there were many lessons coming out of my walk. Perhaps the biggest one was the reminder that the Camino--just like life--is about the journey, not the destination, and people we meet and treasure along the way.