… though recent United States and world events may have some wondering about that.

Meet our friend Cinda. I mentioned Cinda in my first Camino post, the amazing woman who walked El Camino pushing her Trionic veloped, Persie (short for perseverance). We first met Cinda during a lunch stop in early May and as is often the case when pilgrims meet, we asked each other, ‘Why are you walking El Camino?’ We met again over supper and heard more of her story.

In a very small nutshell, here is part of Cinda’s story. Cinda is celebrating a significant birthday this week (Happy Birthday Cinda!) and her original plan was to bike across parts of Europe to commemorate the special event. Unfortunately, a brain aneurism stole most of the use of one leg, and along with it her plan. One of very few who survive this type of aneurism, Cinda decided to not only celebrate her birthday but also her survival and life. But how? Instead of biking across Europe why not walk 424.3 miles across Spain?! (Persie isn’t motorized.) Like I said, an amazing woman.

Over the next several weeks we thought of Cinda daily. How was she holding up? How far was she walking that day? How are she and Persie going to manage this terrain, or this stone bridge? The three of us played a sort of game of Camino leapfrog–we’d pass her, exchange greetings, ask how she was feeling, or we’d enter a town and see her already there enjoying a meal with fellow pilgrims at an outdoor café. We were always thrilled to see her.

I don’t remember the last place we saw Cinda, but when we entered Compostela de Santiago, we kept our eyes open for her. We knew she was scheduled to arrive about the same day we were, and she was meeting her son at the music festival being held that weekend. We were still in town the next day and kept watching for her, disappointed she didn’t appear. While we believed ‘if anyone can do this, it’s Cinda!’, we still hoped all had gone as planned.

The above picture was taken in early June in Finisterre, ‘the end of the world’, the village where many end their pilgrimage. Hubby and I were finishing supper when he looked up and in amazement and delight said, “Look who’s walking across the plaza.” Cinda in her bright pink windbreaker was pushing Persie. To say we both teared up a little wouldn’t be an exaggeration. I hailed her over and over glasses of wine caught up and talked about where do we go from there? We weren’t talking about our next destination.

Cinda mentioned how things would be different back home. We three agreeing there existed a Camino spirit, an energy diffused and consisting of …

Community/connection: Buen Camino! No matter our native language, that greeting–Good Camino! –echoed through mountains and meseta. The day before Hubby and I left for home, we stopped in the train station to get our bearings, and in the lobby sat a couple from China we’d seen one evening at dinner. There was immediate recognition and excitement in seeing each other again.

Encouragement/support: We’d high-fived and thumbs-upped families with young children and checked on those struggling to take one more step. There’s a whole organization, I’ll Push You, that accompanies people in wheelchairs so they can complete their pilgrimages. Cinda had numerous stories of Camino Angels that appeared at just the right moment.

Kindness/Compassion: At dinner one evening a young woman hobbled by and I asked how she was doing. She told us she’d wrenched her leg and was in misery, but that another pilgrim–a stranger–had insisted on paying for a taxi and overnight accommodations so she’d have a day of rest. No strings attached.

Inclusivity/acceptance: Amid the sea of pilgrims swirled Gay Pride rainbows and 60s tie-dye; the images and teachings of Jesus, the Buddha, Bob Dylan and Bob Marley; folks with the latest high-end hiking gear and folks with boots and backpacks held together with duct tape; corporate types, types who literally lived outdoors, and types making their living as social influencers.  At the end of the day, we sat together over paella, good wine, and good conversation.

Hospitality: Daily we were welcomed into hostels run by local residents and fed from their kitchens. When Hubby was so stricken by allergies he barely functioned, our hostess provided medicine and arranged a taxi for part of that day’s journey.

Humor: As we waited in line to enter the cathedral in Santiago, a woman approached and asked if I spoke English. So used to saying, ‘No habla Espanol.’ without thinking I answered ‘No habla Ingles.’

In Finisterre as we lamented this loss of spirit, I realized a pilgrimage isn’t just a sacred journey to some place (external or internal), it includes the return home.

People may say the reason the Camino spirit exists is because only certain types walk The Way in the first place. I’m not so sure. Not everyone sees it as a pilgrimage–some go for spiritual/religious reasons, some for the challenge, others for the adventure, some have no idea–but once walking we all embrace the energy. It’s as if we gather particles of diffused genuine goodness into vessels, we didn’t even realize we’d brought along. Hubby and I experienced it ourselves; we saw it in others’ smiles that widened each time we ran into them and the closer we stepped toward Santiago. We watched it in the tears, the jumps of joy, the falling onto knees, the singing, the embraces between friends who’d only known each other for weeks as hundreds entered cathedral square.

I mentioned in an earlier post we talked with pilgrims from 20 different countries. Those included Japan, Korea, Croatia, Germany, Australia, Switzerland, New Zealand, Mexico, Paraguay, and the Netherlands.

In 2023 alone, 446,073 (yes, almost half a million) pilgrims from around the world received their compostelas–the certificate indicating one has walked at least the last 100 km. I envision each one returning home with their vessel and sharing its contents stranger to stranger, family to family, village to village … to all the ends of the earth. I know many others are doing the same without having walked El Camino. The vision gives me hope, and the belief the world isn’t going to hell in a handbasket.

May you all enjoy the genuine goodness surrounding you this week, and I wish you all a safe and festive 4^th of July! See you next Monday!