On August 10, 2024, I stepped onto the Camino path north of Porto, I was glad that 8-mile day would be along the Atlantic with dazzling views of the water. At first it was surreal that I was actually walking the Camino — something I’d had in my heart to do since 2012. For months I’d been training for the 158 mile journey — the longest I’d ever taken by foot. Had I adequately prepared? Would I have the stamina to complete my goal? Those were the questions that went through my mind as I started the first of my route that was over boardwalks.

That afternoon, my first experience of being momentarily lost came when I left the path to find my lodging. I’d loaded a SIM card to use while I traveled but couldn’t get it to pull up the town map. Eventually, I stopped at a pharmacy and the woman at the counter walked me outside and pointed in the direction of my guest house. I was so grateful that she took that time to help this lost, novice pilgrim. The next morning, I ate with 5 others around the breakfast table. One was a woman who wore a bold striped blouse. Two of the men, who were traveling together, spoke Spanish to each other. None of the rest of us ventured saying anything more than “Good Morning”.

Later that day when I was walking near the beach, I came upon the woman in the bold striped blouse. We recognized each other and she spoke first, thankfully, in English.

She introduced herself as Mariangela from Italy.

“I tried to complete the Camino a couple of years ago,” she said, “but I hurt my leg.” She looked down at her leg wrapped in a support bandage. “I’m determined to finish this time.”

We walked together for a while then she encouraged me to go ahead, saying she was going to take a break.

“Maybe we’ll meet up when we make it into Povoa de Varzim,” she said.

Hours later, we spotted each other in a park in that village and decided to find a restaurant.

She ordered octopus and I chose a more familiar fish. Maybe I’d try it later.

It was reassuring walking with Mariangela. Her wifi worked and she accessed the Camino app with the route clearly marked. I realized while we were engrossed in conversation that I’d missed observing some of that village. The next day I was ready to walk alone so I didn’t miss anything on my first visit to Portugal. By the end of that third day of walking, the 16+ miles due to getting lost, I was overwhelmed and exhausted. It was more mental and emotional than physical tiredness. Again I stopped a couple of times for help with directions and tried to piece together a conversation with those who spoke little English.

Eventually I made it to my lodging and prayed that night that I’d have a walking partner the next day. My prayer was answered when I met a young woman from Berlin, Franzi who spoke great English and also had a wrap on her leg. She was climbing the steps up to the walkway over a bridge. She urged me to go on and said she didn’t want to slow me down.

“No, I’m glad to slow down. I’d rather walk with you than ahead of you,” I said, and explained how I’d gotten lost the day before. That was the beginning of a beautiful day of walking and taking breaks for coffee and lunch. Late that afternoon, we skipped walking the last of those 15 miles and watched them quickly pass from our seats inside a city bus.

On my fourth day of walking, I was ready for another day alone and had the quiet of a meditative walk through a forest scented with eucalyptus trees. Those spa-like woods were refreshing after walking the cobblestone streets in the mid-day sun. In the rhythm of walking my mind slipped into that contemplative space that is what I longed for on that journey. Then an “aha” came to me that felt like the ‘still small voice of God’:

“You make a lot of mistakes on your solo journeys, but you always end up at the right place.”

That had been true for the previous journeys and would continue to be true in the days ahead. Remembering that message kept me calm when I got lost, knowing that God had always been there to help me find my way.

On the fifth day of the Camino, I felt like I hit a wall. Even with the assurance of the message from the previous day, I saw all the miles ahead of me and wasn’t sure I could keep going. I texted Mary, the one who planned my trip and had walked the Camino many times. She heard my discouragement.

“The first five days are the hardest, Connie,” she said. “Your body is confused by all that continuous walking. After Day 5, your brain says, “Now I see this is happening day after day”and then it becomes automatic.” I rested in her words. The next morning it felt like I was in that familiar pattern of putting on my clothes and going to work — like I did all those years before I retired. I wasn’t to the mid-point of my journey but I felt like I would cross that finish line in Santiago.

Looking back on my Camino experience, I see the ups and downs of the journey. Like all of life, there are days that feel light and easy, and others that bring struggle. But through it all, we travel with steadfast assurance that there are people in our path that will help us, and those that we help. And undergirding all my days, I see how God is faithful.

Best to you,

Connie