Everyone Walks Their Own Camino

There’s a phrase you hear often on the Camino: “Everyone walks their own Camino.” It’s repeated so frequently it risks becoming a cliché—but out here on the path, it proves true again and again.

Some pilgrims plan every detail months in advance, reserving each night’s accommodation before they even lace up their boots. Others embrace uncertainty, walking until they’re ready to stop and trusting that something will work out when they arrive. Some carry everything they need on their backs, feeling each step more deeply because of the weight they bear. Others opt for luggage transfers, freeing themselves to walk with lighter loads and quieter minds.

There are as many ways to walk the Camino as there are pilgrims on the path—and none is inherently better or more “righteous” than another. (I do have my own thoughts about what we’ve done on previous journeys, what we’re doing this time, and what we might do differently in the future—but that’s a story for another post.)

What does surprise me, though, is how often the walk itself seems, for many pilgrims, like something to get through. As we are drawing closer to the end of the Camino Portugués, the number of pilgrims has noticeably increased—and with them, a sense of single-mindedness. At times, it feels as though the day’s walk is treated like a task to be completed as efficiently as possible—a distance to conquer rather than an experience to relish.

There are moments when we stop—just for a minute—to take in the fog hanging low over a vineyard in the early morning, to ponder a worn stone pathway shaped by thousands of footsteps before ours, or to share a quiet laugh at something small and unexpected—like a young foal bounding clumsily through a field. And all the while, a steady stream of pilgrims passes us by without slowing.

I get it. I’d guess that 95% of our fellow pilgrims are younger than we are and likely working within time constraints—two weeks of holiday, then back to work. And when you’re young, there’s the sense that many more adventures lie ahead. We were probably just as focused once. Everyone walks their own Camino.

These days, with our various age-related aches and limitations, we’re simply grateful to still be able to do this at all. And who knows how many more long walks we’ll have ahead of us? With only a handful of days left before we complete the Camino Portugués, we’re acutely aware that this experience will soon be only a memory. Because of that, we feel an even stronger pull to slow down, to savor what remains, and to resist the quiet pressure to hurry.

Of course, a cynic—or perhaps just someone with a functioning set of knees—might argue that our frequent pauses to admire the scenery has less to do with spiritual mindfulness and more to do with our aging bodies. After all, it’s much easier to wax poetic about misty vineyards and ancient stone paths when you’re also using them as an excuse to catch your breath.

All that said, we’re hardly immune to the small comforts waiting at the end of each day. As the afternoon stretches on, our pace begins to quicken—and certainly not for spiritual reasons. The thought of a hot shower, the relief of unlacing our muddy shoes, the simple pleasure of putting our feet up—and that first sip of a cold beer have a remarkable ability to draw us forward with renewed determination. And that is exactly how our Camino is meant to be walked.