Go on a pilgrimmage

“Walking the Camino Frances in 2015 had me crying, cringing, and complaining. A few weeks in I hit bottom with a bum knee, an infected blister, and food poisoning all at once. I wanted out, but instead I put my head down, set my teeth, said a few terse words to God, and kept walking. [...] With each aggravating step, each annoying ache, and each thought of doubt, the Camino met me with the humbling challenge to keep going. I learned to slow down, to stop competing and to admit when I needed rest. I experienced the profound kindness of complete strangers and I had conversations across faiths and cultures. Pilgrims looked out for each other, looked out for me. Slowly but surely, the hope I had somehow lost began creeping back into my heart.”

“The atmosphere on the trail was absolutely amazing and very friendly, although there is a bit of a social divide between those who walk the Camino and those who cycle it. Fellow pilgrims greeted each other with the phrase, “Buen Camino,” regardless of what language they spoke and how few other Spanish words they knew. I met so many awesome people from all over the world during those ten days of walking. Sometimes my friend and I would end up walking with someone for hours. Sometimes we would only walk with someone for a few minutes and then they would stop or speed up, and I would wonder if I’d ever meet up with them again. Sometimes I did. Sometimes I didn’t. When you walk with someone for several hours and eat dinner together and drink cognac together and sleep in the same space, you get to know him or her pretty well.”

“When I arrived at the Cathedral in Santiago de Compostela, I wept. Once I arrived, I saw fellow pilgrims – friends – that I never had expected to see again and would never see again, and many of us were crying and embracing each other in turn. I attended a pilgrim’s mass, like countless pilgrims for centuries before me had.”