Adventure has always called to me, sparked by the blockbuster films of my childhood. Earlier this year, I knew I wanted to go to Europe, but I couldn’t decide where.
Then, I remembered hearing about the Camino de Santiago. My mom and dad walked the Spanish Way in 2018, and my dad and brother took on the French Way in 2023. What intrigued me most was the Portuguese Way. I wanted a journey that blended spirituality with gruelling exercise. So, I told my dad I was doing the Camino in September. Before I knew it, I had my Sony α7 III, a backpacking bag, and a plan to walk 670 km from Lisbon.
The Camino was divided into three distinct stages for me: Physical (Lisbon to Porto), Mental (Porto to Tui), and Spiritual (Tui to Santiago). The physical challenges were immediate, with 30-degree temperatures and elevation changes that took a toll on the body. Injuries were common—my own swollen ankle reminded me of that daily. Starting in Lisbon offered the gift of solitude; few pilgrims began their journey there, as most joined in Porto.
When we reached Porto, however, we faced a new challenge: a severe forest fire outside the city. It disrupted the pilgrimage and made finding hostels difficult, adding mental strain to an already taxing journey. By then, we’d grown accustomed to familiar faces from Lisbon, and the disruption made us appreciate that sense of community even more.
Reaching Tui marked the beginning of the spiritual stage, where the weather shifted to rain. Walking in the rain created a unique connection—not only with fellow pilgrims but also with something greater. Many of my companions were not Catholic, but they deeply admired the faith and the sense of purpose driving the Camino.
Walking the Camino de Santiago tested my endurance, but it was also a journey of profound reflection. It was an opportunity to honour how far I’d come in life, both as a photographer and a spiritual being. What made the experience truly special were the people I met along the way. Day after day, we walked side by side, shared coffee breaks around the 8 km mark by 9 am, and built bonds that turned this pilgrimage into something far more meaningful than just a physical trek.
I’m deeply grateful for every step, every story, and every connection. There were days I wished I’d taken more photos, but in the end, the Camino wasn’t about capturing images—it was about the journey itself and the people who shared it with me.
For anyone considering the Camino, my advice is simple: don’t bring expectations. The adventure will become exactly what you need it to be.
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