I walked over 500 kms in 18 days. Valenca, Portugal to Santiago for Easter Sunday. Santiago to Fisterra. Fisterra to Muxia and then back to Valenca. What an incredible journey.

I left on 040404 the day before a full moon. From Toronto there was a stopover in Frankfurt. After a conversation on a pay phone there, I was professionally pick pocketed by two men. They bumped into me, spun me around and took my hand out of my pocket removing my wallet. I never carry cash but due to lack of time, I didn't get to the bank. I lost 400 Euros. Basically my spending money for the journey. The experience reminded me about the story of the Navarrese Queen who built a gorgeous 6 arched bridge over the river Arga in Puenta la Reina. This was built so the pilgrims wouldn't be robbed and drowned by the ferrymen in the middle of the river. Here I was a modern day pilgrim, being robbed.

Once I arrived at the airport in Vigo, Spain I was shocked to find that my backpack didn't show up on the luggage conveyor belt. It seemed they had lost it, possibly in Madrid. Several weeks have passed since the bombings in Madrid and this made me concerned whether I would ever see it again. Since I had borrowed my friend Rob Crew's backpack for this trip, I became worried about loosing the pack that he carried on the Camino Frances and more recently on the Via de la Plate. He would never forgive me if I lost it.

The woman at the baggage security took a report and suggested I come back at 12:30pm to check the last flight in from Madrid. I went into Vigo and walked around looking for a place to eat. That night my baggage never arrived. I decided to start walking the next day. For 2 days I walked in the same clothes and socks I wore on the plane. A young male pilgrim lent me a sweatshirt to wear to bed the next night and I found some blankets to use since I didn't have a sleeping bag. There were many challenges. I had worn the wrong socks for walking and had no vaseline with me. The first day leaving Valenca, Portugal I got really nasty blisters.

Late that day, I left my eyeglasses somewhere in a forest when I stopped for a break. Now I was a true pilgrim stripped of all assumed basics needs; clothes, money, glasses, backpack, sleeping bag and all personal belongings except what I was wearing.

I walked for two days calling the airport each day when I finally learned they found my backpack in Madrid. I took a cab to the airport and back to the refugio feeling like a pilgrim again. My feet were a mess; blisters on the bottom, sides and heels too. This would be a curse I would bear the entire 18 days.

During this pilgrimage, I had 14 days of sun with only 5 minutes of rain one day. Then 2 days of constant rain. I was told by the English professor I met by the name of Adam who lives in Mos which is a small village on the Camino, that the rain on the 15th day of walking, reportedly equaled 1.7% of all the rain that fell in Galicia last year! Even my Gortex jacket leaked.

Before I left to go on this journey was given an Eagle Feather by a woman on the Six Nations Reserve near where I live. She has the responsibility of deciding who should receive one of the highest honors of their culture, an Eagle Feather. She had a dream about me that she was to give it to me to give to someone on my journey. Every person I met was a prospect for the Eagle Feather. The stories are wonderful.

The refugios are excellent in Galicia offering hot water, heating, kitchen facilities and often brand new bunk beds. I wonder why they are always situated at the top of a hill. After a day of walking, often through mountainous terrain to reach the village with the refugio, the last thing I wanted to do was climb another hill. Galicia is like a heaven on earth. Every day I climbed mountains and walked through any gorgeous forests filled with Eucalyptus trees, chestnut trees and green foliage. For the first time, I have seen the Spanish flora. When walked in the winter there was almost no color or live flora. The grape vines were just beginning to bloom. The butterflies fluttered around me all day so did the flies and bees. Saw a couple of mosquitos too. Part of the route follows the shoulder of the highway which can be very discouraging and boring.

Since I was walking the week before Easter there were many celebrations underway in the smaller cities and villages. I was fortunate to see some of them and participate in processions. Unfortunately, there was no pilgrims mass on Easter Sunday in Santiago. Even still I went to church and left all the intentions I carried with me, on a stone on a pillar near the Portico de la Gloria entrance. I discovered on my journey that I was one of the only pilgrim walking the route who was not from Spain or Portugal. People referred to me as the "sola" pilgrim. They couldn't understand why I was walking alone since they were all there with their families and friends to celebrate Easter. Often they would care for me. They fed me, gave me water, walked with me; one day two young men carried my backpack for 4 kms since I could hardly walk because my blisters were so painful. I was honored to be a pilgrim.

After Santiago, I walked another 90kms to Fisterra; the end of the world. The next day I walked with a French woman to Muxia, on the Costa del Morte. There we saw a memorial to the oil disaster that took place there over a year ago, and spilled oil into the sea. My time in Muxia was a blessing. I was really moved my this place. Thank you David for encouraging me to go here. The church in town is built high on the rocks overlooking rough coast. That night I had a seafood dinner with three other pilgrims in a restaurant. There wasn't a refugio, so we slept on the floor of a high school gymnasium. We had to wait until around 9:30pm since there was a soccer game playing that night. We slept on gym mats.

Earlier that day I had taken my boots, socks and bandages off my feet to go into the sea. As I stood there the waves crashed around my feet and the sea salt felt great on my blisters. Then the blister on the side of my heel started to sting. I thought it was the salt water that was irritating them, but when I looked closer it appeared that the crashing waves had forced the tiny particles of sand under the skin, and inside the blisters filling them up with sand. I wondered how I would get the sand out and suspected I would end up at the hospital. That night I soaked my feet and cut open the other side of the blister to try to flush out the sand. I got most of it out and then I could at least walk.

When I woke up the next day, I found I could carry on without a lot of pain, even though the sand was still lodged between the layers of skin. That day, I literally walked with stones in my feet. Ironically Stone by Stone, is the name of my storytelling CD about the journey walking the Camino Frances.

The first day I walked from Muxia on the coast, I was really frustrated because I couldn't find my way. I kept questioning why I decided to do this to myself. I really wanted to quit, take a bus to Santiago and walk from there. I had a lousy map too. But I didn't quit. I met a Spanish pilgrim who told me when you are walking from Santiago/ Fisterre/ Muxia, it is a triangle. While walking the triangle, he told me, you are in the "eye of God". That was it for me. I wasn't quitting while in the eye of God. I made a barter with Him that if I continued on my way, then he would help me to tell my story. He agreed. I knew I would be taken care of...you are never alone on the Camino.

I turned around to walk the reverse route back to Santiago and then on to Valenca, Portugal. I wanted to walk the way the pilgrims of the past took their journey. This was an unbelievable challenge. Every day I got lost more than once. I added at least 5k a day to my daily mileage because of this. The first day walking back from Muxia, I walked up a mountain for about 2kms reaching the top. At the time I was meditating while walking, and saw a yellow arrow. Forgetting that I was walking the return route of the Camino, I followed the yellow arrow all the way to the bottom of the mountain. I met a farmer and he informed me I was going the wrong way. When I realized I had walked all the way around the mountain, I started to cry. I sat down and waited for a car to come, but no one came happened. After an hour of waiting, I put on my backpack and started to walk up the mountain for a second time.

Often I reached a fork in the road and couldn't determine which direction to go in. There are occasional "Blue" arrows painted along the way, that lead to Fatima. Often I followed these arrows and they saved me from getting lost many times. The local villagers are very helpful, and although I don't speak Spanish I managed to learn some key words. Most days on the return route I would start walking in the morning at around 8 and not get to the next refugio until 6 or 7 pm. Getting lost on the Camino not only adds more mileage but it requires a lot more time to stop and figure out which way to go.

Arriving in Santiago for the second time, I had the free pilgrim's meal at the Paradore 5 Star hotel on Sunday night, Monday morning and when I stayed for Monday lunch too, since it was raining. They allow up to 10 pilgrims to eat for free but there were only 3 pilgrims there for each meal. The food was great and it was a thrill to be at the hotel again.

A number of the locals along the way invited me into their homes for cafe and food. One day I went to church with a family. They were so very proud to show me to the local villagers. After the second day of walking the return route, I found myself smiling all the time, with the knowing I was going home. I tried to keep a log of the return journey with some details of the path to pass onto others who consider this route. I would strongly recommend doing the Portuguese route both ways. Coming home I find it is much easier to integrate the journey into my life back home.

Although it is early, I have a different feeling of completion, that I didn't experience doing the French route. I arrived in Valenca Portugal early in the afternoon and decided to take the bus to Mount Santa Tecla where there are Celtic ruins left on the top of the mountain. What an experience that was.

Thanks for all you wishes and prayers. And by the way, I hugged the Apostle for all of you.

Peace and love as you journey,

Sue