Shannon Blair

Madison Porter
August 23rd 2016
Module 1 Final Draft

Left to right: my grandma, my mom, and me

Shannon Blair
Madison Porter
August 23rd 2016
Module 1 Final Draft
My Camino
I used to hear people talk about Camino magic, but I never knew what they meant until

I had the chance to experience it for myself. The Camino De Santiago started in the middle ages

when millions of people began to walk from their homes all over Europe to the Grand Cathedral

in the city of Santiago, Spain. A pilgrims mass was held and the travelers were awarded with

their certificates of pilgrimage to ensure they spent less time in Purgatory. It was also walked by

apostles as a way to spread religion throughout Europe. Today, the Camino is walked for many

reasons, whether they be religious, spiritual, or just as a more economical way to see the world.

April 14th 2016, I got on an airplane bound for Portugal. I had no idea what I was getting

myself into. My mom, my grandma, and I were going to walk the Camino De Santiago Portugal.

Not such a big deal, right? Who was I kidding---this was going to be the most amazing thing to

happen to me in my life so far. I watched a lot of movies on the flight, unable to sleep.

April 17th 2016, we started our expedition across Europe. The first few days were long

and I felt extremely sore. The scenery was amazing. We walked through towns, country sides,

and a few cities over the course of our journey. Walking through the country was my favorite. I

could see across the vast landscape for miles. There werent many other people to talk to, so I

was free to observe my surroundings and be in my head. It was extraordinarily peaceful.

Our third day of walking was probably my hardest day. Every part of me was achy and

tired. I walked far behind my mom and grandma, sometimes out of view. The terrain that day

changed constantly from cobblestones to forest paths. I was ready to rest for a decade by the time

we reached our destination for that day. As soon as we reached Casa De Fernanda, our albergue

for that night, Fernanda invited us into her house and offered us tea and cookies. After we
Shannon Blair
Madison Porter
August 23rd 2016
Module 1 Final Draft
consumed our snacks, our host showed us to a building on her property where we would be

sleeping. We settled in and caught up with some friends we had met earlier on the Camino, who

were also staying with us. When it was time for dinner, all thirteen pilgrims gathered in

Fernandas kitchen to eat with her and her family. She fed us freshly picked fruits and vegetables

from her garden and fish that the fisherman had caught that day. After dinner, Fernandas

husband brought out a guitar and another pilgrim and I played for everyone. It was sad when we

had to leave the next morning, but the memories of that albergue would be stuck with me from

then on.

Along the way, we had many coincidences happen, which amplified the Camino

magic. My favorite occurred on our fourth day of walking. We had just made it to Ponte De

Lima, which is known for being the oldest village in Portugal. My mom, my grandma, and I

went into an albergue to get our pilgrims passports stamped so we would be able to get our

compostelas at the end of our pilgrimage. It seemed empty except for the lady at the front desk.

My mom and I quietly called the name of Tom, a friend we had met a few days ago, not

expecting anything to happen, but when we turned to leave the building I almost ran into him. He

told us he had just been thinking about running into us.

The sixth day of our peregrination was one of the best. We stopped in Valena, Portugal.

There was an old Portuguese military fort that dated back to Roman times. It was used to guard

Portugal from Spain. That evening, we walked into the fort from our hotel. My adventurous side

came out and I ran up onto the grassy, massive fortress walls, leaving my mom and grandma

behind. I gaped in amazement as I stared across the water into Spain.

Shannon Blair
Madison Porter
August 23rd 2016
Module 1 Final Draft
On the seventh day, we crossed into Spain, from Portugal. I was astonished at how far we

had come already. We had to cross a long narrow bridge with cars zooming past on our right

side. Another friend we had met along the way, Hank, caught up with us on the bridge. He took a

picture of our triumph as we stepped off the overpass. Hank walked with us a little ways, but

soon pulled ahead at the speed he strode.

April 28th 2016, we knew we were close to Santiago, our final destination. My grandma

wasnt sure whether we could make the 15 mile walk from where we were to Santiago in one

day. We had pushed through 16 miles the day before, so we were all extremely tired. Everyones

feet were sore from all the cobblestones and other hard terrain. We put so much focus on our

journey that we soon lost track of how close Santiago was, and before we knew it, we had

walked into the city. Walking into Santiago was such a big accomplishment for me. I couldnt

believe we had finally finished our pilgrimage; we walked one hundred and fifty miles in twelve

days. I could barely wait to retrieve my compostela, a special certificate of completion that

documents that I finished the Camino.

I stood under the grand Cathedral after a twelve day trek across Portugal and Spain,

feeling more proud of myself than ever. My grandma, my mom, and I had completed the Camino

De Santiago Portugal and were rewarded with our compostelas. Our aching bandaged feet were

proof of the physical toll this trip had taken on us, but with our smiling faces it was hard to tell.

After going through the adventure with my mom and grandma, we definitely have a greater bond

than we did before. We grew closer to each other as well as growing inside ourselves. I think that

experience changed me a lot. I have knowledge from my journey that no one else can say they

have. Many people may have walked the same path, but no one has walked my Camino.