“Friendship, Faith, and the Camino de Santiago”

 As a young person, I had a wish-list of experiences I hoped awaited me as I journeyed through life. There were, as the saying goes, “places to go, people to meet, and things to do!” As the years progressed, I was able to fulfill many of these dreams, plus some new ones that popped up along the way.

Now in the years of retirement, the list has morphed into “places I’ll probably never go to, people I won’t meet, things I’ll never do.” Sounds like resignation, but perhaps it’s better named “reality.”

But some of things on that list I now get to experience vicariously, often through a good book. Recently I fulfilled a wish by vicariously walking the famous Camino de Santiago in Spain. Not only that, my daughter accompanied me. Or, better said, I followed her footsteps, as it was her dream; then her reality.

And now her book. The Way We Walked: Faith, Friendship, and the Camino de Santiago, by Kristin Gault (2025). In the summer of 2024, Kristin and her friend Heather walked the more-than-200-mile trail (camino) from Porto, Portugal to the Santiago Cathedral in Compostela, northwest Spain, a walk of 12 days. Thousands of people a year walk the Camino for many different reasons, anything from a way to process grief, to have a spiritual retreat, or to just have fun and an adventure. But, as Kristin discovered, the Camino can surprise you and give you something rich you hadn’t realized you needed. She writes in her introduction,

“Heather and I started this journey out of a sense of adventure. Every detail was meticulously thought out from the socks we would wear, to the size of our backpack—determined by how many liters it could hold, to the number of miles we would be walking each day, to the specific route we would take. Everything planned.

“What we didn’t plan for was how quickly this walk would morph into an internal journey God was taking each of us through. It became less about the things we could control and more about what was happening on the inside of each of us.

“They say the Camino doesn’t give you what you want, but what you need. I wanted a leisurely stroll with no pain, accompanied by long lunches beside the beach, and lots of laughs. What God had in store was entirely different.”

As each chapter carries us through a day on the Camino, we experience the beauty of Portugal. (“Nothing really beats the magic of being the first ones up and walking along a dark cobblestone street lit by street lamps…. As we neared the ocean, the sound of the waves grew louder and louder…. Surrounded by beauty, a sense of wonder and awe replaced all my previous worries and concerns. I was right where I was supposed to be.”)

Along with Kristin, we experience the specific agony of unexpected blisters, heat, swelling feet, and a new dependence on Vaseline. We meet other pilgrims on the way, strangers who become friends. We learn to wash our underwear at night, hoping it gets dry by morning. We face the trauma of being in a strange town with nowhere to spend the night, only to be rescued by the kindness of strangers.

All our outward adventures force a deeper inward look where we discover God healing old wounds, renewing our spirits. At one low point of physical pain and discouragement, a loving hostess’ listening ear and words of encouragement turned things around. Kristin writes that “the journey had just officially stepped out of the realm of adventure into a true pilgrimage for me. I didn’t yet know what that all meant, but something had shifted for me and I was already experiencing a deep change inside myself.”

I won’t detail the specific adventures, challenges, serendipities, and deep lessons Kristin experienced. That’s for you to read for yourselves. But I did let myself be brought into the story and so vicariously walked the Camino and learned the life lessons such an experience teaches.

I’m realizing that I’m walking my own Camino, really, not just vicariously. It called the Camino of Growing Older. Some of the life lessons Kristin learned on her walk can apply to my current adventure. Kristin and Heather chose to walk the Camino de Santiago, and that’s where my journey differs. I didn’t choose to grow older, but now that I’m on the path I would do well to see it as a grand adventure. It’s a journey with a destination. And I don’t mean death.

Traveling light was one of Kristin’s key strategies. Not more than 10 pounds—that was the goal (until she had to start adding blister medications), and it made a difference. For me, traveling light means more that downsizing our stuff, although it includes that. It means making sure I’m at peace with my memories and relationships; regrets are way too heavy. I need to forgive, heal, and release.

Being aware of beauty as I walk the trail is another key. The cloud formations outside my window, the sunrises and sunsets, the distant trees. And the close-up trees as I walk the path down by the creek. And the beauty in the faces I pass in the halls every day. Lovely old faces full of character, memories, and battle scars. Sparkling eyes full of mischief. And the beauty of the presence as I sit in silence in the early morning.

Companions are a necessity. Travel buddies. Friends. I’m not the only one around here growing older. We all face similar challenges and we can give each other courage. We can tell our stories. We can make each other laugh. When I get too tired, I need your hand on my back, giving me a little push.

Grit and determination! Another necessary element. I remember at one point in the book where the pain and discouragement were almost overwhelming, Kristin told herself that “giving up is not an option!” She writes that “The blisters were pushed hard against the sides of my shoes, and I just continued breathing deep through it all, pushing myself forward. After about twenty minutes, I realized I was going to be okay, and the pain became more bearable as my body adjusted and got used to it.” That little scenario played itself out over and over. Persistence and determination. The courage to put one foot in front of the other and just keep going.

I need that, too. My body is changing and I face several chronic conditions that may get better with time and medication (I’m also open to miracle). But then again, I may not get better. I may need to do just what I can every day, knowing that I am moving forward, getting closer to the journey’s destination.

And as I let God change me, my adventure turns into pilgrimage.

So, through the words of my daughter, I’ve walked the Camino de Santiago. I can cross that off my list. I’m also walking another challenging Camino. I have marvelous companions (one of whom I sleep with every night) and the best of Best Friends. Beauty surrounds me, begs me to attend to it. Laughter helps. And telling stories. The Spirit strengthens me to move forward, sometimes walking into the pain, applying plenty of spiritual Vaseline, and always keeping the end of the pilgrimage in sight.

What a trip!