El Camino
When my husband first mentioned the Camino to me many years ago, it had never even crossed my mind that we would ever commit to something like this. But hey, who knows how stars align. And there we were, stepping off a rustic regional train onto the platform in the small Spanish town of Sarria. A month earlier, I had never even heard of the place. With my backpack slung over my shoulders, I couldn’t help but laugh - how on earth did we end up here?
The Camino from Sarria to Santiago de Compostela covers about 120 kilometres—a journey of just 2.5 hours by car. On foot, however, it became a six-day ordeal - through blazing sunshine, drenching rain, throbbing blisters, and a backpack that seemed to grow heavier with every mile. And then there was the crushing disappointment of reaching the only cafe we had been dreaming about for three hours—only to find it unexpectedly closed.
So, was it worth it?
We were not walking for religious reasons, but somewhere between the sore feet and aching shoulders, the Camino began to weave its quiet magic: it restores everything our modern busy lives force us to rush past.
Perhaps it was the rhythmic tapping of hiking poles against the gravel. Perhaps it was the birdsong drifting through the air, the mist lifting over the green Galician hills, or the wildflowers scattered along the edges of the path.
Perhaps it was the ancient tree canopies sheltering us from the sun and rain, the cold water flowing from roadside springs, or even the earthy smell of cow manure drifting from nearby fields.
Perhaps it was the stone markers all along the way, counting down the distance to Santiago, a few kilometres at a time.
Or perhaps it was the unexpected grace of human connection. A “Buen Camino” in many different accents by strangers. A shared table with people from corners of the world we had never heard of. A smile or quiet nod exchanged with another weary walker.
The Camino is filled with ordinary life. The trail winds past cow fields, laundry lines, village bars, old stone houses, schoolyards, cemeteries, and churches. The whole spectrum of humanity unfolds along the path too - couples separating during the difficult stretches and regrouping at the end of a trail, or one exhausted father trudging through the drizzle with a crying baby strapped to his chest and a heavy backpack weighing on his shoulders.
The Camino was hard—but escape was always within reach. As we passed through village after village, one of the first signs we would see was a taxi service with a phone number. Whenever the trail crossed a road, taxis appeared to collect weary walkers.
The temptation was never far away, yet choosing to continue was part of what made the journey unforgettable. The rain made the sun feel like a gift. The steep climbs made the views from the top more breathtaking. The blisters turned every arrival into a hard-won victory. Without the struggle, the rewards would not have felt so rich.
There is a strange satisfaction in being reduced to the basics: walk, eat, rest - repeat. Suddenly, the ordinary becomes a luxury: a dry spot to sit down, a cup of hot tea, a warm shower, a simple meal, a sink to rinse the sweat-soaked shirt, a bed, and a moment of stillness.
By the time we finally reached Santiago, those 120 kilometers were no longer just a number. They were etched into our legs, our minds, and our stories. The destination gave the walk an ending, but it was never the most important part—the journey itself was.
A car could have taken us there in 2.5 hours. But it would have missed everything: the hills, the conversations, the quiet beauty of Galicia, and, the confidence that grew with every step. The Camino did not become easier. We discovered that we were more resilient than we had imagined. And that, made Camiño, priceless.
“Wealthy with all you’ve gained on the way, not expecting Ithaka to make you rich. - Journey of Odysseus”
Everything I had for the entire journey: a change of clothes, a few small necessities, and a sketch kit —was packed into a 25-litre backpack.
* Due to a webtool bug, all captions associated with each image can only be viewed on a computer, not a smartphone
Images That Stay With Me
Journals
The best excuse to rest my weary feet
Beyond the Camino: Without a return ticket, going where the road kept leading
Porto, Braga, Portugal
Régua, Pinhão, Portugal - where the famous Port wine is from
Budapest, Hungary
Eger & other towns , Hungary
