Daily rhythms: my first week hiking the Camino Frances

In some ways the Camino is simple. Wake each day early, stuff my backpack, eat a pastry, drink coffee, then walk into the afternoon. Stop for snacks in cafes brimming with other pilgrims, stretch, more coffee, continue. Then, rest at the hospital/hotel we’ve chosen. Shower, do coin laundry, let our exhausted bodies dictate if we’ll sleep early or venture to explore town.

Yet simplicity is not to be confused with ease. Some days are long, hot, rainy, riddled with elevation gained and lost. Sore muscles, rewearing dirty clothes, and missing home are all uncomfortable. I am getting increasingly more comfortable with discomfort.

No amount of reading through Facebook forums, watching Youtube videos or hearing advice from friends could have prepared me to fully understand the experience of hiking the Camino. I’m a week into my journey and I’m still learning each day.

This trek, a 500 mile walk across Spain, is an ages old pilgrimage, an experience rich with religious history and spiritual significance. But there is no single reason for someone to choose this walk, on the contrary the diversity of people and their varied purpose brings such beauty to the Camino.

I have chosen to hike the Camino to spend quality time with my mom as well as to connect more deeply with the natural world, with the culture in Spain and with my own inner truth. Plus, it is an awesome way to experience backpacking in a new way as this trail weaves through countless towns and doesn’t require camping. Instead we spend nights in pilgrim hostels called albuerge or hotels. Staying in places surrounded by other hikers is a fun way to connect, especially as we often share meals.

The Camino is magical. I read a quote the other day that said “on the Camino you’ll see average things become magical.” It is so true! In a week I’ve danced under a double rainbow, risen to gorgeous sunrises, and walked through towns seamingly torn out of storybooks. I’m grateful for the little things too, like finding a shady bench to rest on, or pulling grapes off vines as I walk by vineyards. Often tired or hungry, it is easy to be grateful for simple pleasures.

While it is sometimes challenging, the Camino is welcoming as there is a shared sense of community, not only among hikers, but also with locals. In towns passersby often smile and say “Buen Camino.” In cafes people are excited to hear where I’ve come from and why I’m out here. I ask the same questions to those I meet, thrilled to share meaningful moments with people who have come to pray, prove themselves, or search for a deeper meaning. It is all inspiring, enchanting.

Life on the Camino is balance. Hiking as doing/action/ forward motion. Resting as being/reflecting/presence. I am learning the importance of slowness and rest, and it isn’t always easy. Often I find myself equating my internal worth to my external accomplishments but the Camino is showing me how to embrace balance. By taking afternoons to read or sit and wait for laundry to dry, I make space to reflect on how I feel, to realign myself with my intuition.

I’m thankful!