Pilgrimage: Three reflections on walking the Camino de Santiago

January is a time for resolutions, introspection, taking care of body and soul, spiritual journeys. In a happy editorial coincidence, three women shared their experiences and reflections on their pilgrimage walks on the Camino de Santiago in Spain with Perspective.

Gwynneth Evans (Church of St. Bartholomew, Ottawa)

Every pilgrimage is unique, both in the nature of each day and the arrival at the destination. The ‘way’ from Sarria to the Cathedral square and then into the interior of Santiago de Compostela, where St. James’ bones are in the crypt, offered me the unforgettable experience of elation and fatigue, thirst and fulfillment, joy and bewilderment and the overwhelming sense of joining others, near and far, now, then and always, in God’s presence. I travelled with UTracks and 12 others; for each person, it was a personal Camino, but friendships were forged.

Christine Boucher (St-Bernard-de-Clairvaux, Ottawa)

Le 10 octobre dernier j’entrais à Saint-Jacques-de-Compostelle (Santiago) après 36 jours de marche. J’étais l’une des 3184 pèlerins qui sont allés chercher leur compostela ce jour-là attestant que nous avions bien effectué le pèlerinage et parcourus les 779 kilomètres depuis St-Jean-Pied-de-Port en France. Ai-je accompli quelque chose de spécial en marchant tant de kilomètres jour après jour, sur tous types de terrains, mais quand même dans des conditions météorologiques plutôt favorables? Je ne pense pas… J’ai simplement marché chaque jour, poursuivi mon chemin, un pas, un kilomètre et une journée à la fois ajoutant ainsi le nombre de kilomètres parcourus à ceux des jours précédents, jusqu’à ce que le total devienne impressionnant. À bien y penser, avec du recul, les kilomètres n’avaient aucune importance… Les rencontres elles, ont été des cadeaux. Les pèlerins venus de tous horizons portaient avec eux des histoires, des blessures, des rêves et plus souvent qu’autrement un besoin silencieux de se retrouver. Il s’est tissée une complicité que seule le ‘’Chemin’’ peut offrir. J’ai rencontré la bienveillance, l’empathie, la fragilité, la solidarité, la compréhension, l’entraide, la gratitude…c’est un chemin qui parle profondément on appelle ça ‘’l’esprit du camino’’- il est ressenti plutôt qu’expliqué, il laisse tout doucement sa marque sur nos pensées. Ce n’est pas toujours avec les oreilles qu’on entend les messages! Quiconque a parcouru un chemin de Compostelle sait qu’il ne s’agit surtout pas d’une longue marche. C’est une traversée intérieure qui transforme et éveille.

Je suis partie en solo, je ne sais pas trop pourquoi, mais je sentais que c’était ce que je devais faire. Les premières journées, en traversant les Pyrénées je me suis demandée dans quoi je m’étais embarquée? Je n’ai pas tenté de répondre à la question… J’ai plutôt laissé l’expérience me traverser. La solitude, le silence ça t’ouvre l’esprit pour faire de la place à ce que tu n’aurais pas imaginé. C’est ce qu’on appelle la Grâce du chemin. La marche devient une forme de méditation active. Chaque pas, chaque souffle, chaque regard échangé sur le chemin devient une véritable leçon d’humanité.

Le plus important des voyages n’est pas celui qui mène vers Compostelle, ce dernier n’était que le commencement d’un chemin beaucoup plus large et plus long mais plutôt celui qui est en nous et qui nous conduit, pas à pas, vers L’ESSENTIEL, vers soi, les autres dans l’ici et maintenant.

O camińo empeza agora (Le chemin commence maintenant.)

Carole Breton (diocesan director of Communications and Development)

I had been longing for silence, for a quiet mind, and for a spiritual journey. Over the years, several people around me had walked the Camino de Santiago. Some completed long routes over many days, while others stepped away from their busy lives to walk only a short portion. It always sounded mystical. When I first heard about it, I could not imagine myself walking even for a few hours. I did not understand what it meant.

In the summer of 2023, a friend walked part of the Camino, and that is when I began exploring the possibility myself. I looked into it more seriously, unaware of how deeply it would shape me, the very next year.

The many routes can be confusing, especially when time is limited. My children, then eight and 10 in July 2024, were away at summer camp for a week. With the support of a dear friend, my mother and my sister, I was able to extend an international trip by a few days. After some research, I chose a 100-kilometre stretch from Vigo to Santiago de Compostela.

I could describe the preparation, heat, hostels, gear, and the small logistical details. But what mattered most was the spiritual journey.

I walked alone. No music. Just a backpack and a notebook I assumed I would use for writing. I walked, but it was the people I met who shaped the experience. Encounters. Stories. Conversations full of meaning. I shared daily reflections on FaceBook and revisiting them still brings me back into the heart of that pilgrimage.

My spiritual guide, Father Francisco, sent daily prayers and Scripture passages to reflect upon. I stopped in churches, prayed quietly, attended mass when I could, and reflected on God, on hope, on love, and on my life as a solo parent of two energetic boys. The Camino offered long stretches of silence, but also rich exchanges with other pilgrims. One of my posts from July 21 captures that spirit:

“Day 2 of the Camino — Arcade to Pontevedra, 13 kilometres.
Sun, heat, elevation, sore feet. A simple women’s room in a hostel.
Pilgrims share advice, confidences, and words full of wisdom. We receive and we give. Everyone walks for a reason: a 70th birthday celebrated by visiting seven countries; a father honouring his daughter who died 10 years ago; a woman marking the anniversary of her father’s passing. Some walk as a family; others walk for faith, challenge, or healing. Each story is unique. Even without knowing each other, we listen and accompany one another. We say: ‘You are loved.’ ‘You are not alone.’ ‘You are beautiful.’”

Despite the intense heat and the pain of the final days, I found myself able to notice the beauty around me and to pause—something rare for me. Prendre le temps de vivre et de respirer. To be truly present and open to others with a steady, gentle attentiveness.

On July 24, I arrived in Santiago de Compostela on the Feast of Saint James. I attended mass, prayed to Saint James for a special grace, and later joined the celebrations and fireworks. The journey was short—too short. Intense. Transformative.

Will I return? Absolutely. I am already exploring a Québec pilgrimage inspired by the Camino— a way to continue walking, praying, and rediscovering that sacred rhythm closer to home. Prendre le temps de vivre et de respirer now guides me in my daily life.

The Camino invites us to slow down, to breathe, and to rediscover the sacred within and around us. For me, it offered the ideal setting for reconnecting with my own heart and with God.