El Camino - Finding the Way
How do you walk 400 kilometers…I wanted to find out. As the keeper of my brother’s journal that he began while attempting to trek the Appalachian Trail in 1988, I have always felt a tinge of regret for him. Overcome by rain and a twisted knee, he aborted that attempt, went back home, only to find his girlfriend and dog were on their way out.
This past September I finally laced up my Hokas and got a chance to answer the question for myself: one step at a time.
El Camino, the pilgrimage across Spain, has been walked this way for more than a thousand years. I first heard of it on a previous trip when I met a fellow traveler who wore a backpack and carried a walking stick, complete with a scallop shell attached to it. We were in Madrid at the time and he said he was walking to Santiago de Compostela (Saint James of the Stars), the sacred cathedral and shrine on the western edge of the country.
Learning that El Camino (the Way) has this spiritual element intrigued me. This pilgrimage can literally be done in as many different ways as those who choose to walk it. We met one young man who began at his home in Belgium! There are currently five main routes. The French Way, the oldest and most popular route runs from Saint-Jean-Pied-de-Port east of the Pyrenees to Santiago, 780 kilometers which typically takes at least four weeks to complete. But there are other seven (7) and twelve (12) day treks that are growing in popularity. We did a sort of hybrid Camino by walking 100 kilometers on del Norte then taking a bus to Leon and walking 300 kilometers on the Camino Frances to Santiago.
While many people choose to do the pilgrimage alone – to go at their own pace and to spend the time looking inward; others, like my younger sister, Sue, and I find comfort in a companion. We began talking about making this trek together a few years ago. With her retirement this year, we both finally had the time to make it happen. We boarded a plane September 4 and landed in Barcelona with a loose idea of how we would do a little sight-seeing then walk three weeks. It felt both exciting and daunting – doable and impossible – sensible and crazy.
Losing our older brother ten years ago and our sister last December gave us the added incentive of completing what neither of them would have the chance to do.
We prepared in our own way – me, to make use of items I already owned and choose a loose plan; her, to get outfitted at REI, listen to lots of podcasts and download the app “Buen Camino” (Good Road – and the popular greeting pilgrims give to each other).
Along the way, we met so many pilgrims that have done multiple Caminos - almost as an addiction, but I see now it is a way to slow down and return to the basic elements of faith: nature, reliance, hope. Kosuke Koyama, a renowned Japanese theologian, introduced the idea in the 70s that God’s love operates at a spiritual speed distinct from the fast, technological pace of modern life. The phrase “three miles an hour” represents the average walking speed of humans, symbolizing a pace that allows for presence, attentiveness, and relational depth.
It actually felt natural to walk all day and to meet others doing the same thing. Our reasons for making the trek may have been different, but sharing this natural pace somehow made us family. It really brings out the best in people. There is a saying we often heard: “the Camino gives you what you need, not what you want.” At first it may sound corny, but isn’t that the same truth scripture teaches us? We read in Phillipians 4:19: “My God shall supply all your need according to His riches in glory by Christ Jesus.” Every one of us could feel it: felt cared for, felt good simply because we had a bed to sleep in, health to walk, food to eat. And then, if you would have the good fortune to help or be helped by another, we felt rich!
That’s the way.
For those of you with the time to take a deeper dive, below is a sample from my musings and lots of pictures. One thing I absolutely loved about this trip was the chance to slow down and simplify. I feel like it’s something that has come home with me – along with a deeper appreciation of the simple things. Buen Camino.
Day 2: Barcelona. As I gaze up at the cross in the just-finished temple, Sagrada Família (Holy Family), surrounded by an ephemeral halo of fifty lights, there is the figure of a tortured man there. His skeletal body folded in pain. It hurts to think of my Lord like that. To see the disfigurement that Jesus endured.
I realize on this tour of Antoni Gaudi’s temple to God in Barcelona that every symbol has a story to tell. Whether you prefer your cross to be clean - and recognize the resurrection - as Protestant faithful do, or you see the value in remembering the act of Christ’s sacrifice, as Catholic’s do, there is truth in both.
Of all the magnificent things that could be said of this temple, what I most admire is the inspiration Gaudi drew from nature. And love. He sculpted both into the intricately layered towers that reach toward heaven with all the twists and curves, all the shapes and colors, all the beautiful and monstrous symbols that detail the human journey.
Even his own story: born in 1850 to the son of a boiler maker, growing up with bouts of rheumatoid arthritis, spending large chunks of time alone observing nature and becoming a renowned architect, ended abruptly in a tram accident when he was 72.
You could certainly ask where is the justice in that? How can someone who was changing the face of architecture and who had spent 43 years working on a holy tribute suffer that fate? But we don’t know. Can’t know. Will never make sense of the timing. Just as we don’t know where the wind comes from and why it can whip into a terrific tornado. The truth is not limited by our faith.
Yet, it brings us some sense of control to name a thing, to categorize it, to get others to agree with us, but this is not truth. It is not “settled “ by us. Gaudi said “there is no truth without love.” Can we truly love our neighbor while thinking they are wrong? Can we truly trust God while insisting we know what is right?
As Gaudi was advancing in years and it was apparent the project would not be anywhere near finished, he said it could be trusted to other architects. And if we really think about it, everything we have must ultimately be trusted to those who come after us. So why do we hold on so tightly, I wonder. Can I let go?
My sister and I are heading out tomorrow on the El Camino - attempting to walk more than 250 miles to Santiago de Compostela, the resting place of Saint James. It is a pilgrimage. My first. The truth is that I don’t know what lies ahead. We have not planned out all our stops. Even distances are unknown to us. How far can we walk in a day? Where will we stay?
And that’s what makes it a faith test. We will discover the truth. We will ask God to show us the “way.” I’m sure there will be easy days and difficult ones; tasty meals and slimy octopi; open doors and shut. We just got unexpectedly shuttled off our train and onto a coach bus. I trust this bus is going to the right place. The “way” has begun.
Day 3: Bilbao. After a lovely morning sleeping in, we wandered over to the Guggenheim and took in the large sculptures, tapestries, metal macrame and paintings. It was 1 p.m. before we were packed and ready to go. The skies were blue but we knew rain was coming and our albergue (hostel) closed at 6 p.m., so we decided to follow a shorter route along the river (not the official path with scallop shell symbols and yellow arrows). Just a mile out of town there was an alternate route the phone app suggested - even though there was a “prohibido“ sign on the sketchy fence. We walked into this overgrown area and noticed a few ratty tents. Ever so quietly I followed Sue through many twists & turns, over logs, past more tents - some rather permanent looking. Finally, we reached a metal gate. Locked. Surrounded by fence and brush. Sue said, “let’s scale it and throw the backpacks over.” Really, we couldn’t go back the way we came, so I scaled up, she handed me the backpacks and I dropped them and myself down. She got over and we kept walking. Pretty crazy. About 2.5 hours later we finally joined the official Camino and saw our first sign with the arrow and shell. It was exciting. The path is pretty well marked. And with Sue’s phone and sore feet, we reached the hostel at Portugelete slightly punch drunk. A man called out as we were passing the place - I guess he could see we needed help. Interesting start to our trek.
Day 4: With last night’s rain subsiding, we set out at 8 am with our hostel “roomie” Anna. As we left the town behind, the sun came out and we had a magnificent rainbow as we headed into the countryside. I was so happy and full of energy. The farms and animals were lovely to see and the company made the time go quickly. I was determined to get a fig from the many that hung over the fences but most of the ‘low-hanging’ fruit were gone. It started drizzling just before we reached Playa Arena. A nice cafe by the beach welcomed a slew of wet peregrinos (pilgrims) and we relished a coffee and croissant. The sun was back out as we set off along the coast for a spell. Anna was snapping pics and we all enjoyed the beautiful coastline. The trail turned inland and we had a mountain to climb but it was a stunning forest and we just kept putting one foot in front of the other. At a decision point, Anna suggested we follow her to the albergue she had booked that night. So, we did. I love having the flexibility to make these choices along the way. We got there about 4:30 p.m. (20 mile day) and thankfully there were plenty beds for E22 a night. We set up our 2nd floor bottom bunks and headed across the street to look for food but they don’t serve dinner in this country until 7 or 8 p.m. So we had a beer with a Danish couple Ole & Susan and swapped stories & opinions about human rights. They’re involved in Amnesty International. There was one restaurant in town, so all the pilgrims ended up having dinner together. Really nice - E10 for lasagna, wine, and rice pudding. We went back and O & S played guitar and sang folk songs. It made me want to cry. Did I mention, they’re over 80 years old!
Day 5: Woke up at 8:45 - everyone was long gone! Sue and I had picked a shorter route today to walk 12 miles to Playa Arenillas. It was a little cool when we set off and went a few kilometers into town for coffee and breakfast. We’re both feeling good. Made it to Castor Urdialsis - an impressive seaside resort built around the ruins of a Roman fortress. Had to strip off some clothes as we turned inland a bit. It was a lovely walk again and brought us back to steep cliffs along the coast. We arrived at the first albergue but it was full. They said there was a hotel and a campground a little further. We check it out and liked the accommodations at the campground E18. Just as we were checking in O&S showed up. There were two cabins for pilgrims and we took them, then headed to the beach for a dip. The Atlantic is absolutely lovely here. Had a nice swim and rest on the hillside. We grabbed a beer and waited for dinner time. Sue & I did some laundry. We had discussed staying at the (expensive) hotel in town but it was nice to choose the pilgrim-way.
Day 6: We woke up early, stretched and got on the road before 8. And I do mean road. We saw some pilgrims on our way out and followed them - turns out they were taking a shortcut…along the road. Good news, we were in Liendos in less than 2 hours; bad news, the trucks, busses, cars & motorcycles kept whizzing by. We stopped for coffee and breakfast sandwiches and changed socks - as it feels good to have a nice, dry pair on. We found the Camino right beside a private house in town and turned back up the hill. Had to pick our way around rocks the next couple hours. At one point the hill was so steep I thought of Jesus carrying the cross. We met a chatty American (our first) from Florida. Couldn’t tell if she wanted company. She would stop frequently for pictures so we soon parted ways only to reconnect several times. We all ended up in Santa Maria of Assumption together and got our credentials stamped (part of the pilgrimage requires getting two sellos (stamps) a day from churches, cafes, even albergues.) She told us she googled which church in Laredo had the best stamp. I, personally, don’t care for all the googling and map reading and shortcut taking that seems to be the new pilgrim way. It’s not easy, but I kinda insist we put the phone down and follow the signs. There’s merit in both approaches and we are a kind of hybrid. Once we got through Laredo, we walked out onto the big, wide beach and stripped our sneakers off. It felt amazing to sink our sore feet in the sandy ocean. We were told you could walk the whole length of the beach - so we did. Stopped halfway to sit and enjoy the view. I got a little nap while Sue stitched & got a red neck. I pulled out my sketch pad and worked on a landscape pic. Very relaxing. We walked to the end of the beach & found the ferry to Santonia. Walked to the first albergue but it was full. We got some salads for dinner at the Mercado (market) and decided to continue on a bit. Sue checked her handy “Buen Camino” app and found a Surf hostel in the next town so we walked another 3k - it was a 20-mile day. If you would have told me we were going that far this morning, I wouldn’t have believed you.
Day 7: Another big, beautiful day. Had really good sleep last night and woke up & stretched. We ate our yogurts - pilgrim-style. As we left the playa (beach), there was a sign for a “deviation,” that Sue had seen in her app. We started scrambling on a sandy path and skirted up, over and around a cliff-side mountain. Just when we were at a fork in the path, a pilgrim appeared. He had been camping. We followed Simon to the beach where our shoes came off again. When we went to cross a rivulet Sue stepped into a deep hole. Luckily, she kept her balance. We went into Noja and found some coffee and chocolate cake. We also ran into Lara - who didn’t catch herself and got soaked. Walked on to a church in Isla where there was a Pimento festival on the church grounds. Sampled some yummy cheese and wine. Reminded me, however, of the money changers outside God’s temple. Only in this case the church was closed. We turned inland and decided to push on to the famous albergue in Güeñes to Father Ernesto’s place. We got put in an outside dorm room with Lara! and 6 strangers - there was 67 peregrinos from every place. There was a talk by the 88 year-old priest and interpreted in English. He told us he was born in that house, loved to travel and started the albergue in 1999. It is run by volunteers! After dinner we were invited to the “hermitage.” Me and one other person took advantage. The priest was there and I asked if I could pray for him (he had told us he wasn’t feeling strong). He said yes and I did. What a privilege! This morning I felt so blessed. We enjoyed coffee and rustic bread with butter and jam and we’re actually the last people to leave (I’m just not that quick getting out the door) but I was glad because we saw Father Ernesto again and he gave us his blessing.
Day 8: Domingo (Sunday) - We walked out of town and along a cliff that opened up into a fantastic beach with lots of surfers. I talked Sue into going down the steps with me and off behind some rocks to take a dip. Best Sunday ever! The water was amazing and we felt so free & refreshed. We got our feet nice & dry with fresh socks then took off again / landing at yet another beach! We walked along the water’s edge again then into town. We were quite hungry by the time we were shoed up again and stopped at the most adorable veggie spot in Soama. Got hummus and ginger limonade. Felt so much better with the healthy food and friendly worker & chef. We kept going to ferry and got there just as one came up. It was a E4 trip to Santandar (the capital of this region). We found the Camino and Sue put me in “charge.” We walked to the cathedral (closed ☹️) but saw a familiar face. I asked where he was staying and he said there was an albergue just ahead. The public hostel was right on “the way” and we checked in with the woman who spoke no English, E15. We went out in the town and got some sangria and tapas. We actually felt pretty tipsy and made our way home for a shower. This place filled up, but we got two bottom bunks. Unfortunately, the men on the top bunk squeaked every time they turned and the girl in the bunk beside me was on her phone all night.
Day 9: Lunes – It’s our day of rest and break from the elements. The sun has been relentless. We are on our second bus today headed to Leon – on to The French Way. Del Norte has been so good to us and hard for me to leave the beautiful coast, but this is our plan – to experience both routes. And it was incredibly easy to get a bus. We didn’t realize but stayed just a few block from the bus station last night. Admittedly, sleeping was a little rough last night so I am thankful for a day of rest. We have been driving through mountains and tunnels all day. I love this country - it’s beautiful. Sue let me “find” the way myself when we stepped off the bus. It was a little bit of a challenge. I asked a few back-packed people and we did find it. We walked a tree-lined esplanade through downtown Leon, but then the signs pointed us through a pretty rough section. Hot and tired, we finally found the public albergue in La Virgin.
Day 10: Martes - We decided to walk a full day. Last night’s hostel had a library and we read about the knights who fought at a famous town Hospital de Órbigo. It was quite hot, so we had to take lots of breaks today. When we finally got to the impressive medieval bridge some pilgrims recommended a parochial (church-run) hostel. When we walked into the cool, garden courtyard we were both ready to be “home.” It had a lovely, cool foot bath for the friendly pilgrims to enjoy. Sue did some sewing and I began whittling a stick I picked up. Soon, we were joined by Italian pilgrims that invited us to dinner – after mass at 8 p.m. Of course, we said yes. And it was a real treat to eat pasta outside with 14 new friends.
Day 11: Miercoles – One thing that keeps coming up in our conversations is what (we) Americans think of President Trump. Sue and I both feel put on the spot but willing to be proud of our country. We don’t get warm, fuzzy reactions, to say the least. Our walk today included blisters on our pinky right toe. It’s a challenge to keep your feet happy on a trek like this. We walked in and through Astorga today, picking up a rosary with our sello. I added it to my stick. This town is famous for chocolate and we had churros and chocolate. Yum.
(I quit taking notes – and focused on my conversation with the Lord for the second half of the trek. Our blisters resolved and we got rather good at the rhythm of the road. In fact, we finished a week early. Here we are on our last day at the plaza where pilgrims gather before getting their Compostela certificate for those who walk at least 100 kilometers.)
Last Day, September 29th: We walk into the impressive cathedral of Santiago de Compostela (at left) for 7 pm mass. All the seats are taken, but we find a column to perch ourselves on and hear the lovely singing in Spanish. I understand very little yet close my eyes and listen for the Spirit. I attended Catholic Church as a young kid. It was all very foreign to my young eyes & ears. A little scary, to tell you the truth. But here I am - standing when the others do, kneeling on the cold floor, remembering the rituals from long ago. My faith has been formed in Protestant churches these past forty years - yet somehow I have come home in this moment. I see that it was not simply a walk across Spain or a chance to experience connection with pilgrims from all countries, but a return to my roots. To believing God truly shows each of us the way to him. Not the construct of religion or buildings, but the simple act of taking one step at a time - the way of faith.
Buen Camino.
"“The great book, always open… is that of Nature” Antoni Gaudi
Bloopers!
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