Pilgrim Once. Pilgrim Forever.
“There are many dimensions to making a pilgrimage in both the real and the imaginary world. The pilgrim embarks on a ritual journey in search of purification, perfection, or salvation. Pilgrim, way, and shrine are all essential elements of this journey, which is different from all others in that it establishes a special relationship between the individual and the group and because the pilgrim is transformed along the way.
Almost all forms of culture have discovered in pilgrimage a means of relating with the sacred. The reasons vary according to each culture and religion but in essence a pilgrimage is a request or a plea, a way of giving thanks for a gift you have received, a desire to improve your position in the social and emotional scale or to come closer to your God. The rich diversity of the world’s many pilgrimages has an incalculable heritage value for our knowledge of human behavior and of the evolution of thought regarding the most transcendental beliefs that make up our spiritual dimension.”
- Placard at the Museum of Pilgrims and Santiago
in Santiago de Compostela, Spain
All dreams worth having take hard work, dedication, and bigass dollop of joy. In 1998, I became enamored with the spiritual journey of pilgrimages, particularly, El Camino de Santiago and Monserrat where the Black Madonna is housed. I was researching my Catalan/Californio ranchero ancestors and was fascinated by the honored role of their hosts and the sacred reciprocity of giving and receiving.
At first, I only heard of the 500-mile walk of El Camino, known as The Way, and the three months needed to complete this journey, which seemed impossible to me. How could I afford this luxury of time and money? To stay connected to this legacy, I became a host for traveling cyclists and then an AirBnB host, relishing in meeting adventurers. Four years ago, I gifted myself with the pilgrimage to Montserrat where I gazed at the wondrous statue of the Black Madonna.
This year, I jumped at the opportunity to fulfill a decades-old dream when my sister-in-love Cindy found an 18-day itinerary walking the Portuguese coastal route of El Camino with a company that booked our hotels and transferred our luggage. I didn’t realize you could customize your walk or that there are five major routes of The Way. Or that carrying everything you would need on your back for nearly three weeks was just one option. Above all, pilgrimages are a personal journey.
We flew to Lisboa on Easter Sunday arriving into a crowded metropolis for Semana Santa or Holy Week where we stayed at a gorgeous luxury hotel where I tried some fabo port wine. Founded in 1182, Lisboa is older than Rome and boasts of the most incredible carved stone architecture and tiled buildings. The people are incredibly kind, warm, and inviting. We took the train to Porto where the train started moving before I had descended and had to jump off.
The first day of walking, we got our pilgrim passport stamped at the church, and should have taken the train out of the city, but neither of us had read the itinerary carefully. Instead, we hit the streets, always looking for the elusive yellow arrows to guide us on our 150-mile journey to Santiago de Compostela where St. James, apostle of Jesus and brother of John the Baptist, is buried. We came across a construction site with broken discarded porcelain tiles, so of course, we both grabbed one. After six hours of walking, we found our first alburgue, or hostel, where the host advised us that accidentally took the inland route out of the city. We had already walked 14 miles so called an Uber to get to our hotel and back on the coastal route.
The following day, we walked boardwalks along the coast, over Roman cobblestone streets and through eucalyptus forests. Each time we found a yellow arrow guiding our way, I felt like I was five years old finding an Easter egg hidden in the tall grass. Cindy likened it to finding Waldo! What a delight it is to have such simple joys light up my day!
We received the most genuine hospitality at a popup tent a man named Abilio had erected to service pilgrims, known as peregrinos, with fresh honey dew melons, snacks, and Estrella Galicia beer. I also bought earrings and a necklace from his treasure trove of knickknacks. We watched a sacred enactment for Semana Santa, passed by many churches both large and small and traded stories with other pilgrims, always following the yellow arrows and scallop shells (iconic for St. James).
For several days we had the glorious Galician coast on our left as we trudged northbound, basking in warm sun, listening to the sounds of crashing waves, admiring views of turquoise waters and the welcoming soft sand. Our favorite village was Afife, Portugal, where we stayed at a family run hotel that is absolutely stunning!
I was sad to leave the warmth of Portugal, but enjoyed the wild boatride across the estuary to Spain. We didn’t even have to show our passports! This was our fifth day of walking with 65 miles under our belt and a planned trek of 18 miles to our next hotel. Ridiculous, we thought. We’ll just take another Uber when we get to Spain for the last 7 miles. Unfortunately, this part of Spain doesn’t have Ubers and it was Sunday at 7:30pm, near impossible to get a taxi, which we absolutely needed because we needed to check in by 9pm. We called our host company and they called us a taxi – 40 euros to go seven miles. Cie la vie! We put our feet up and took a well-deserved break along with Madeira wine and Galician soup.
Soon the inland route met up with the coastal route and we started to see more pilgrims and more yellow arrows! We met a couple of Scottish guys Roddie and Young John, an uncle and nephew, who entertained us immensely as we crossed the Medieval bridge, Ponte Sampaio, where Napoleon was defeated in 1806. Every day the most difficult part was getting at 7:40am to quickly dress and get our luggage to the lobby by 8am.
I told Cindy and other pilgrims about my stories, dramatic accounts that showed my tenacity and what I thought made me who I am. In Lisboa, the sheer number of people cast a strong light on an inane desire to teach the entire world that witchcraft is good, and that I can only affect my piece of pie and that is plenty “good enough.” When I told my son Kobe about this, he asked how many people I saw. Maybe 5-10 thousand, I said. He suggested that I imagine a street filled with all the people who have ever read my books waving at me and cheering me on. That would be 150 thousand - the number of sold books in 23 years.
On the Way, I came to realize I am more than what happens to me or what I accomplish in this lifetime or how many people I help. My choices paint the image of my soul and I can decide to leave sad and defeating tales on El Camino forever.
There’s so much chatter about self-care which I think some translate as pampering yourself.. bubble baths, massages, creature comforts … for me self-care is also about honoring your dreams and investing in yourself.
I wanted to walk El Camino, a thousand-year-old pilgrimage to Santiago de Compostela, because I love the legend that pilgrims were honored for their willingness to wander, discover the deepest part of their divine nature, simplify, explore and go beyond the comforts of what is familiar to find something new and strong and brave and indestructible deep within. I love this perspective that celebrates the traveler in search of their soul on the unknown road.
Trusting the journey has always been the lesson for me. Knowing I will be okay whether I keep my cool and enjoy the ride or get scared and snarky. Or if in my attempts to be the best I can be, I worry too much about impressing or leading others. We’re not always pretty when we’re out on the skinny branches and that’s okay. Keep taking those steps towards your dreams. Never give up on you!
On the final day, I cried when I saw the spires of the Cathedral of Santiago - overcome with the pure joy of feeling my own self-love in gifting myself a dream. I am transformed by an infinity love that coursed through me as I gave and received self-love for nearly three weeks of simply walking. Loving and being loved by yourself is the best feeling in the world.
