Each day walking on the Camino Frances, I began by thinking of all the pilgrims who had come before me and those who will follow, I felt connected to them: these ancient paths which pilgrims have walked since the ninth century, across Europe to Santiago de Compostela. For centuries pilgrims have walked to the Spanish region of Galicia, where St James’s relics were found by Pelagius the Hermit. King Alfonso VI decreed a chapel be built there to house those relics of St James (James the Greater) the first of Christ’s Apostles to be martyred.

Making my way to St Jean Pied-de-Port from Paris by train, having flown from Sydney the week before, I start to get a feel for this special place – the green hills, ancient villages, stone bridges and church spires. Fellow pilgrims are on the train, some wearing their scallop shell, some in walking gear, all with an air of excitement.

I have a full day in St Jean to explore and to transform into a pilgrim. Shedding my everyday clothes and suitcase, shipped to Santiago. I’m left with my backpack and just a few “essentials” for the next 50 days. I visit the Pilgrim office to collect my official Camino Passport, the first of many significant moments on the Camino. Feeling very much like a pilgrim, letting go of my everyday life and stepping into this new Camino reality.

Leaving St Jean, it’s misty with light rain and cold. Dreaming of this moment for more than twenty years and like so many been inexplicably drawn to walk this path. Taking my first step I’m so swept up in the moment, it feels like it’s happening in slow motion. This land feels familiar with its farms, rolling hills and distant vistas. Cowbells are ringing me up the mountains, horses and foals are playing, birds are singing in distant pines. Any minute I expect unicorns and rainbows to appear it’s all so beautiful. Thinking back to that moment, it’s one that will be with me as long as I live, walking on ancient paths, light of responsibility and heady with excitement.

My plan is to go to Orrison tonight, about 8km away. No need to rush as I have a bed booked. It gets colder and wetter—a challenging start to my 800km walk. I am on my own but with other pilgrims around pushing uphill, a few who I met last night at my alburgue. Joseph the owner made us feel so welcome as we prepared for our journey. We experienced our first communal pilgrim meal, Joseph prompting us to share our “why” “why a Camino?” With tears of happiness, I explain, I don’t really know my why, just the joy I was feeling to finally be starting! About halfway to Orrison stopping at a cafe in Huntto, a coffee is surely in order. Sitting alone I am soon invited to join a group of Pilgrims all waiting for a small slightly scary French lady to bring us coffee. We are all wet and cold, the coffee reviving and bonding. We become “The Camino Ladies” on WhatsApp –my Camino family who for the next 49 days are my cheer squad and brains trust. We all arrive at Orrison together and have a fun time before dinner with our John Brierley guides and various Camino Apps out, studiously checking maps, forecasts, elevations and bookings. Then all the pilgrims join us in the dining room. The meal is joyous with what feels like the United Nations, all elated at the completion of day one. A pilgrim is celebrating her birthday –we sing a round of Happy Birthday, she shares her story. Today is her 80th birthday and she’s walking her first Camino.

Walking a Camino is like nothing I’ve done before. Until starting my Pilgrimage, really, I had no idea what to expect. I’ve read Camino books and seen Camino movies. I’ve even been to two Camino conferences with the Australian Friends of the Camino (AFoTC). I belong to a Camino group in my hometown –the Blue Mountains Camino Supporters (BMCS). I’ve met and spoken to many pilgrims like me planning their first Camino or having returned from one. I had met and spoken with the late John Brierley the writer of Camino guidebooks and an inspiration. But that first day I felt like I knew nothing, I was a novice. I had the theory and now I was here for my practical.

That first day on the Pyrenees, I had no idea of the challenges in front of me, the friendships, the laughter, the tears, the physical challenges, the moments of peace, the moments of grace, or the stories people would share. I had no idea that long after arriving in Santiago, special moments from my Camino would come back to me and bring me joy and tears all over again.

That first night in Orrison, in a mixed dorm, on my top bunk, (the first of many), exhilaration was pumping through me. I had made it, made it to Europe for the first time, made it to St Jean, I had made it to Orrison (made it to my top bunk) and tomorrow all I had to do was (…get back down) pack my backpack and walk, walk to the next night’s accommodation. Simple. Perfect!

In the morning, I headed out with my Camino Family, knowing I wouldn’t keep up with them, as my pace is slow and steady. But one new friend from Ireland Irene and I are a good match, so up up up we went in the cold wet misty mountains headed to Roncesvalles. It was a challenging walk. We are on the Napoleon Route; “the way” is open even though conditions are tough (luckily no snow). A coffee cart appears, it’s so reviving to have a small black coffee on such a cold and rugged day. With great excitement we crossed over the French/Spanish border. Not long after this Irene and I stopped to help a pilgrim in trouble, he was suffering from exposure and not able to continue. We made use of my emergency blanket (…yes, I had one in my first aid kit) and my friend’s excellent French and Spanish, we called the emergency services, it was a long wait that cold day. Traversing the slopes in the most amazing fashion in a Polaris all-terrain vehicle the paramedics whisked the gentleman away to warmth and safety. We heard later he was fine and back on the Camino. This was the first of my first aider moments to come and the first time I’ve helped rescue a Catholic Priest! It had been hard, we were frozen, I’d given the Priest my gloves, my shoes were soaked through. That day had been so challenging but also exhilarating. As we walked and talked up in those ancient forests, the cuckoos whispered to us. We shared chocolate and stories of our lives in Australia and Ireland, worrying if we’d ever get to Roncesvalles, it was late in the day —two new friends pushing on together. There was relief and tears when the volunteer told me my bed number. Too late for the laundry service I washed my clothes by hand, found a rack to hang them and prayed they would be dry enough to wear the next day. I had the best warmish shower ever and ate the most wonderful pasta and a whole local fish, there was wine and salad and bread. What a day, only my second on Camino but what a day!

The next day, heading for Zubiri, I’m concerned about what’s to come. We have a steep descent and it’s been very wet. I’m walking again with Irene, slowly as not to risk a fall, well actually, slow is just our pace. The path is tough, the conversation keeps my spirits high, but we are again amongst the last to arrive at our alburgue. After Zubiri I have no more bookings. Irene becomes my first Camino Angel and offers me a bed in her private accommodation at our next stop, Pamplona.

We spend two nights in this magical place, staying in her amazing apartment in the heart of the city. Here I get to see the Spanish way of life, excellent bars and cafes the plazas filled with locals enjoying life, I try Padron peppers, Vermouth and churros. A beautiful bride arrives for her wedding at an ancient church, her family and friends all dressed up and lining the street. Down at the famous Hemmingway bar, we try a couple of the excellent cocktails designed to celebrate this cities favourite son. We talk with locals out late and they are just as interested in us pilgrims as we are in them.

Is it travel that makes us so open to talking to others—like many things we do on the Camino, we should do it more at home. Here we’re lighter and freer. We have the time and space to let our minds wander, our hearts are more open and we give more of ourselves. You notice so much more—the way a field of wheat sways in the wind and how a hawk glides on the thermals. We soak up sunrises, become enthralled by slugs and snails, flowers and ancient trees. All these things are commonplace but on the Camino we take the time to really look at what’s around us.

Pilgrim conversations can be life changing—they may be fleeting or go on for days, but they will be lasting, meaningful and heartfelt. We may be walkers, but in Spain, we connect with ourselves in a deeper more courageous way. We walk day after day, we see things we have never seen before. We live truly in the moment, our senses are alive and we’re hungry for life.

At home I’ve met many people who have returned again and again to walk a Camino. Now I understand why. The experience is electrifying—it opens you up to allow your true self time: time for healing and the great joy that is walking a Camino.

My journey continued to Santiago de Compostela arriving there after 49 days. They say a Camino can be divided into three, body, mind and soul. My body did get stronger and fitter as I walked. A fall focused my mind and made me more determined. Moments along the way touched my soul. When people ask me if walking the Camino has changed my life, I say that my Camino was not life changing, but it has changed me. I feel different—I’m not a different person, but have a different way of thinking about life. I feel braver, and more adventurous. I don’t have plans to return to Spain just now but am planning more walking adventures on other ancient paths…

This story has been published in the AFoTC magazine and Beloved a South African Womens magazine, I enjoyed writing again about my Camino experience and hope to do more in the new year!

Sharise