I'm off then

"How was your vacation?"

I have rarely heard that question as often as I did this time, after my pilgrimage on the Caminho Portugues.

And every time, I still flinch a little!

Vacation? Walking 20–40 km every day with 8–9 kg of luggage on my back, sometimes in the heat and occasionally spending restless nights in packed hostels?

Two weeks of the same routine over and over: sleep, get ready, run, run, run, find a hostel, wash up, eat, sleep?

Was that really a “vacation”?

Or am I more of a “traveler”? What is a “pilgrimage”? Just a longer hike? Or was the experience something entirely different?

Well, two weeks have passed since I returned, which isn't nearly enough time to process everything I've experienced.

I can feel changes taking place within me.

I didn’t set out in the midst of a crisis, nor was I expecting life-changing revelations. But of course, I had a few issues to work through, found some (sometimes surprising) answers, and came home with new questions.

“Change” might be the right word for it. My priorities have shifted. Some things that used to upset me just a few weeks ago now leave me cold, while other things have come into focus.

More of an evolution than a revolution. :-)

They say that the real journey only begins once you reach your destination. That might be quite accurate.

What really surprised me after I returned, however, was that—unlike on other trips—I settled back into my daily routine very quickly. Even though I’ve been looking at it from a bit of a distance ever since the Camino. :-)

And, that period of exhaustion—living right at my limits—was actually really refreshing! Okay, spending more than 2–3 hours on the beach at a time, even on vacation, stresses me out anyway; I knew that. But the fact that I would feel physically refreshed after 320 km of exertion and fatigue—that really did surprise me.

So what am I taking with me?

It was a "wonderful" experience. Not just a single experience like a trip, but more like a gateway to a world that was new to me.

I’ve traveled quite a bit, but I’ve never been to Portugal before (if I’ve counted correctly, it was the 40th country I’ve visited).

The country—and especially its people—won me over in a flash.

I have had the privilege of meeting so many wonderful people, and I wouldn’t want to have missed a single one of those encounters.

It was a completely “different” kind of travel, full of experiences but also tranquility, full of serenity but also moments of “pride” in having pushed myself.

Full of joyful encounters, but also moments of loneliness when I had to say goodbye to people I had grown fond of.

I have experienced what it means to be a “pilgrim family” and how people from all walks of life can walk the same path together.

I have noticed that every person carries two backpacks: one that is visible and one that is invisible. And for some, the weight of the latter was heavier than that of the backpack on their back.

I have met people who, for a myriad of reasons, have chosen to follow the same path.

Was it the Canadian retirees who, after a four-week vacation in Europe, spontaneously decided to walk the Camino without any preparation?

Was it the Chinese man from Manhattan who, overjoyed, asked me for a photo under the Finistère Cross because he had made it from Saint-Jean to the Cap in 39 days, even though no one back home thought he could do it?

Was it the antique dealer from Plymouth who, after walking 800 km of the Camino Francés, decided to walk the additional 240 km of the Caminho Portugués “for relaxation” simply because the flight from Porto was cheaper?

Was it the 11-year-old boy who had lost a leg in a car accident and had wished to run the 240 km together with his parents, siblings, and his prosthetic leg?

Was it the young family who traveled all that way with their two-year-old daughter and always seemed so happy and relaxed?

Was it the Dutch sisters, who simply wanted to be together and radiated such harmony?

There are so many completely different impressions that have stayed with me.

I have often wondered what defines pilgrims—what is the common thread? It is certainly not religiosity. I have encountered surprisingly few people motivated by religion.

The shared goal, the journey, the challenges we face together.

But after many conversations, I think I have a sense of what it really comes down to:

After my trip, I heard people say countless times, “That’s my dream, too,” and then came the excuses: but I’m too old, but I’m not healthy, but I have a dog, but the kids are too young, but my wife is against it, but I don’t have time, but…

… maybe someday.

Along the way, however, you meet only people who accept all their limitations—and they’re often greater than those mentioned!—yet still make their dreams a reality!

People who are active, who take control of their lives, who don't just take the easy route to the beach at the all-inclusive hotel.

You can feel it, and you sense respect, but also humility.

“And no matter how slowly you move forward, you’re still faster than anyone sitting on the couch just dreaming” (Quote from a fellow pilgrim)

Porto, the sea, the serene landscape of northern Portugal, the old town of Santiago—all of these still blend together into a complex picture. But it is not so much the external images that linger, but rather the inner ones.

And yes, I’ve caught “Caminonitis.” That urge to pack my backpack again and set off once more.

Exploring new places, meeting new people, seeking out new challenges, and being part of the family again.

After the Camino is before the Camino…

A lot of things went right the first time.

I had the right gear, the weather was perfect, I met some wonderful people, and I didn’t get a single blister (even though I need new hiking boots now…).

There are still two things I'll do differently next time.

1. Plan even less, be even more spontaneous, let go even more, trust even more.
2. Less like a hotel, more like a hostel. :-)

Basically, it comes down to choosing between comfort and connecting with others. After my first Camino, people have become even more important to me. I have comfort in my everyday life, too.

“In the end, it is always our encounters with other people that make life worth living” (Guy de Maupassant)

… even if it’s just to encounter oneself.

Report and photos by Oliver Wennmacher

And now here are the 60 photos from the Caminho Portugues: