This week I’ve been working on a presentation for a Durham travel group about my experience walking the Portuguese Coastal Path of the Camino last August. Looking back over my photos, deciding how many I can feature in the thirty minutes, I’m reminded of the moments walking that 158 mile path. What hits me is how often I had the feeling of wanting to linger in those villages along the route. Each day the challenge was to reach my lodging destination for that evening. I could have made changes to my reservations arranged by Prayerful Path — the company that provided my self-guided trip, but that would have complicated things; I didn’t need that.

The place I did get to linger was the city of Porto. After I flew in there on Tuesday evening I had until Saturday morning before I’d take the bus to the Camino path in Matosinhos, a seaside town just 6 miles north of Porto. Those few days gave me time to explore that UNESCO world heritage city. I was able to absorb the beauty of the azulejo tiles with their Delft blue that has caught my eye since I was young.

Walking all over the historic area and along the Douro River there was time to stop and absorb the view of the city– close up and faraway.

When I stepped onto the Camino, there was a constant sense of the clock ticking. I’d never walked a long distance and didn’t know how much time it would take to get to that day’s destination. I’d stop in cafes and get coffee or bottles of water and rest until I had the energy to get back on the trail. There were times I wanted to just sit and watch the locals come and go in the rhythm of that day in that place.

One of my lodgings was formerly a Benedictine convent. The architecture and the collection of art and furniture were worthy of more time for inspection– but a quick walk through was all I could manage. When evening arrived, like most nights, I was too tired to do anything but get a shower and find a dinner spot. That former convent was located on the harbor front and I could have spent hours just strolling up and down and watching the setting sun on the water.

There were villages that were busy with their festivals of saints and had street decorations, parades, and other activities. I did experience staying awake to the sounds of the crowds on the streets and firecrackers being set off well into the night.

While there were villages and activities that I wished I had more time to experience, there were surprises that I enjoyed and hadn’t planned. Those were the times I was lost–not completely but taking a long way around to where I was supposed to be — like the day I walked four extra miles trying to find my way back to the Camino path. I was amazed at those magnificent sites that seemed to be there just for me.

I’m grateful for the opportunity to reconstruct my journey as I prepare my presentation for the travel club. With the time stamps on the photos and my map and notes from the trip in hand, I can take a leisurely walk through those places and try to recreate what it was like. Now I have time to sit and remember the buoyancy of the air, the smells of foods–especially seafood, the taste of Tarta de Santiago — that almond cake with the Latin cross silhouette made by a dusting of powdered sugar. Looking out at my barren patio garden, I drink in the color of the flowers in my photos of Portugal and Spain, thriving in that Mediterranean climate.

I wonder about your memories of trips where you wanted to linger in towns or crossroads but had to pass them by to get to your destination. Are there photos that can take you back there to explore? Are any of those places close enough that you could return and have the full experience of that unique locale?

Traveling opens us to seeing with new eyes — whether it’s a foreign country or a drive down rural roads to hidden communities. And if we’re lucky, we’ll have time to linger, to go at a leisurely pace and absorb the entire experience and return home with lives that have been enriched.

Best to you finding places you want to linger.

Connie