Staying on the Camino
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Following the Camino should be easy
There’s a quiet confidence that settles in after a few days on the Camino Portuguese. The rhythm of walking, the early morning light, the sound of our hiking boots on the cobblestones—it all starts to feel natural, almost instinctive. And with that confidence comes a subtle assumption: the path will guide us.
Most of the time, it does.
The yellow arrows—some faded, some bright, painted on walls, carved into stones, stuck to signposts—become our silent companions. We start to trust them completely. Add in a navigation app or two, and it feels nearly impossible to go wrong.
And yet, it happens. Often. All it takes is a moment.
Maybe we’re deep in conversation with each other, sharing thoughts about the day, the scenery or someone we met the night before. Maybe we’re just lost in our own thoughts, reflecting on the Camino or its history or the thousands of pilgrims that walked it before us. Or maybe we’re just distracted—by a beautiful view, a barking dog, or how much our knees/hips/ankles/feet are or aren’t bothering us at the moment.
We miss an arrow.
At first, nothing seems wrong. The road still stretches ahead, our pace remains steady. But then something feels off. The markings disappear. The path feels less intentional.
And there it is: we’ve drifted off the Camino.
It’s rarely dramatic. No sudden cliffs or impassable terrain. Just a quiet realization that we’re no longer where we meant to be. Sometimes I think “ha… we’re going where no other pilgrim has gone before”, only to meet another pilgrim who’s just as lost as us, blowing that theory.
We open our app and see where we went wrong, relieved that we’ve only strayed a few hundred yards and not a mile or two, then retrace our steps or take a chance on a side road.
When we do find our way back to the path, we promise ourselves we’ll stay alert—eyes sharp for every arrow, every marker, determined not to miss a single turn. And for a while, we don’t. But before long, the mind drifts, attention softens, and we wander once more onto some unintended detour.
Still, I can’t help but feel hopeful. Maybe it’s this very tendency to lose the trail that will lead us somewhere better than planned—to a meadow full of wildflowers, a spectacular view, or even an unexpected pastry shop waiting just around the bend.