I’m days away from starting a 500-mile walk to the city of Santiago in Spain. The path is called the Camino de Santiago or El Camino for short, but it is also known as The Way of Saint James. Yellow arrows and seashell designs mark the route. “Buen Camino” (good walk) is the salutation passed from pilgrim to pilgrim. Most hold on tight to a traditional staff or walking stick(s) for support. Many choose to sleep in an albergue (pilgrim hostel) each night. And, for the more than 300,000 individuals who make this trek each year, it is often a religious pilgrimage. I am unsure whether it will be one for me.
At this point in my life, I’m Feeling pretty darn anti-religious…
—mainly due to the fear-based sermons at the Southern Baptist Church of my youth. Because of them (along with other reasons, too), I’ve been estranged from organized religion for several decades.*
Yet as my El Camino approaches, I’ve been wondering, if, in addition to exploring this section of the world (my main motive for going), am I also embarking on this expedition with a hidden agenda? Possibly a fresh attempt at faith? I do not know what the future holds, but I do know this: nothing about this forty-some day journey will be easy. (Some pilgrims do The Way of Saint James in far less time, but I decided to do this walk at a more leisurely pace.) Even getting to Saint-Jean-Pied-de-Port, France, the beginning of this extensive mission, will be a challenge.
Challenges are not new to me
I first heard about the El Camino eight years ago while attending a writing workshop in Georgia. Back then, I was working on my first book, Loving Lindsey: Raising a Daughter with Special Needs (released September 2017 by She Writes Press). It was a story I felt I had to write. Part of the reason for this conviction was an attempt to come to terms with why my healthy toddler—the one who rolled over, crawled, walked, talked…even potty trained on time—experienced a grand mal seizure at sixteen months. Shortly thereafter, Lindsey developed essential tremors that caused her hands, arms, and head to shake. These struggles made her life more difficult. She developed behavioral issues, had difficulty making friends, and often acted inappropriately in social settings. Eventually our daughter was diagnosed as developmentally delayed. We were told that she would, as an adult, likely live in a group home.
Despite my daughter’s challenges (now 38 years old), I wanted the same things for her as I did for our more typical son: independence, purpose, and hopefully, a healthy, long-term, and loving relationship. We were fortunate. Lindsey wanted these things for herself. Still, our daughter’s journey to independence was fraught with problems. Her independence continues to be hampered by unwise decisions. I’ve recently come to the conclusion that it may always be this way since she does not have the skills to navigate life without tons of parental, family, and community support. And this revelation saddens me. Many of her decisions not only complicate her life, they complicate ours too.
The Camino is also known to be fraught with difficulties…
Yet it is my choice to make this 500-mile trek. The second I heard about it, I immediately realized that some day I would carve out the necessary time to make it happen. A tumultuous and highly emotional (last) year with our daughter helped me to decide to do this sooner, rather than later. Since then, I’ve rewatched “The Way,” a feature film with Martin Sheen and Emilio Estevez. I’ve also read several books, my favorite is by Australian author, Bill Bennett, The Way, My Way: A Camino Memoir . Everything I’ve watched or read, has continued to encourage and inspire me to take another step forward in making this trip a reality.
So on May 22, I will fly to Seattle and meet up with my traveling companion, Terri. We will take a British Airways jet to London. After a change of planes, we will eventually reach Bilbao, Spain. That first night will be spent in the historic section of this city. My one regret in planning this trip (so far) is that we haven’t allowed more time to explore Bilbao. We arrive near the dinner hour and have to leave the city far too early—for my liking, anyway—the next morning. We’ll board an ALSA bus to San Sebastian. Then we’ll board another to Pamplona. After hours of riding, waiting, and eventually transferring buses one last time, Terri and I will arrive at Saint-Jean-Pied-de-Port.
The main item on our list for this charming French village, is to locate the tourist office. We need to get the first of many required stamps in our Pilgrim’s Passport. If we complete our 500 miles, we will receive our Compostela, a decorative certificate commemorating our accomplishment. (One can also elect to only walk the last 62 miles. Yes, you did read that correctly. A pilgrim isn’t required to walk the entire five hundred miles to receive this ornate piece of paper. I’m electing to take this longer, equally popular, more rugged route.)
At first I wasn’t all that nervous about my upcoming adventure
My husband and I take long walks all the time. But this trek will be different. Terri and I will hike between eight and eighteen miles each day for forty-one days straight. We must climb and descend at least two mountain ranges: The Pyrenees and Montes de Leon before we’ll reach our final destination.
Unfortunately, we did not add any rest days into our schedule. Instead, we’ve made concessions to ease some of the expected stress on our bodies. We will only carry a daypack. A courier service will transport our suitcases from one location to another. Rather than sleeping in crowded albergues, we will stay in hotels booked by CaminoWays. At the end of every day, we want a private sleeping space and bathroom. Some pilgrims may disapprove of our choices, but the best thing about walking The Way of Saint James is that it becomes your own personal “Camino.” So each person gets to walk it the way that works best for him or her.
During the six weeks of walking, I will tie a seashell onto my backpack; I will be called “Pilgrim.” My walking sticks will be constant companions. And I plan to greet every person I meet along the route with a sincere and enthusiastic, “Buen Camino.”
*I plan to delve deeper into my estrangement from religion in future posts about the El Camino. If any portion of this journey is of interest to you, please subscribe to my blog or check back regularly.
Loving Lindsey: Raising a Daughter with Special Needs was the selected winner in the 6th Annual Beverly Hills Book Awards in two categories: “Relationships” AND “Parenting & Family.” In addition, it was selected as a Finalist in the “Parenting and Family” category in the (USA) Best Book Awards. In the 2018 Next Generation Indie Book Awards, it was a selected Finalist in “Memoir—Overcoming Adversity/Tragedy” category.
