The Camino I Didn’t Want
The Camino I Didn’t Want
by Scott Nolte | Seattle, WA
In 2018, I hiked the Camino Francés and it was near-transcendent. I set off to discern the timing of retirement from an arts organization my wife and I had cofounded in 1976. Over the next month, I met wonderful people, loved the Mesatas, and had the time to be prayerful and reflective. It was a significant, life-changing experience.
Last spring, I returned to hike the Camino Portugués from Porto with new internal goals, but on Day 2, I developed large, painful blisters that eventually would cut short my walk and subsequent days I had planned in Madrid. (I hadn’t developed a single blister on my first Camino.) As a result, I walked slower and didn’t explore as much as I had in 2018. And I sat around albergue patios and common rooms much, much more.
On Day 3, I found myself eating homemade cacio e pepe and drinking wine with eight Sicilian police officers, a Ukrainian PhD researcher in artificial intelligence, and a woman from Milan who was struggling with post-grad school employment decisions. A woman from Naples offered me multiple blister bandages. This was the start of slower walks, and longer chats. I walked with a brother and sister from Hong Kong wanting to understand current American politics. A young Ukrainian woman explained her heartache for her country and the loss of thousands of young men. (I’m still praying for her.) I walked with a British couple reflecting on job relocation. There was a German woman who, I learned later, was discouraged until we had café con leche together and I made her laugh! I walked a couple of days with a gal whose hiking partner had dropped out for medical reasons and was now unintentionally walking solo. Unchosen solitude can be lonely.
I met and had long conversations with 36 people from 15 countries in 12 days.
It wasn’t until I returned home, and reviewed my list of “Camino People” that I understood and reframed my hike. I didn’t get the Camino I wanted, but maybe I became the Camino companion others needed. At 70 years old, I laugh easily, so I think I was the older brother, crazy uncle, or approachable elder. Not a therapist or life coach; but rather a companion present to those needing a chat and encouragement.
The Camino provides purpose, companions, and comfort even when we can’t put those needs into words.
