Since Easter Monday, I have been on a journey.   

A journey by plane, train and bus.   

A journey of reflection, questions without answers, challenges, and new perspectives.  

A journey of one and half million steps across Spain.  

The journey, known as The Way of St James, or the Camino de Frances, has been one of the most challenging experiences of my life – physically, mentally and spiritually. Needless to say, the comradery and collegiality of completing this pilgrimage with two of my peer principals from the Diocese heightened the experience.  

The Way of St James is the pilgrimage to visit the tomb of St James the Greater in the Cathedral of Santiago de Compostela, Galicia, Spain.  St James the Greater was one of Jesus’s closest apostles and is revered as the first martyr of our Catholic church, executed by King Herrod Agrippa I of Judea in 44 AD before his remains were transported and buried at the current site of the Cathedral of Santiago de Compostela.  There are many ways to complete this pilgrimage, however I chose the most traditional path that begins in St Jean Pied de Port in France, over the Pyrenees Mountains, and then west across various regions to the Cathedral, a total of 820 kilometres.  This pilgrimage has been established since the rediscovery of St James’s burial site in the 9th century, with the first pilgrimage taken by King Alfonso II of Aragon. 

Physically, despite significant preparation before departing, nothing prepared me for the terrain, the rain, the snow, the wind, and the day to day walking long distances in ankle twisting conditions.  While we prepared on hiking trails and roads, much of the rocky path we walked was old roman roads that remained in deteriorated condition after carrying millions of pilgrims before us.  The sheer challenge of ascending a thousand metres, only to descend immediately after, and then go back up again - was beyond exhausting some days. Walking on sharp vertical slate with a river of water flowing down the path over your ankles was another challenge I did not expect.  My nice shiny trail running shoes quickly became accustomed to being wet, muddy, and mistreated on a daily basis. I would like to say that the pain went away after a while, though the reality was that it simply moved around my body from day to day.  Despite all of this, it was the physicality of the experience that made it special.  The exhaustion, fatigue, and knowingness of having to walk thirty plus kilometres in a day even though you were sore and sorry for yourself.  Realising only too late that there is no food available for thirty kilometres and all you have in your bag is a few peanuts and a bottle of water.  Funnily enough, I started the journey thinking this would be the challenge of the pilgrimage. 

Mentally, I enjoyed the challenge of organising, planning, co-ordinating, reading ahead (most days) and simply dragging myself out of bed to conquer the day before me. What challenged me the most was the down time.  The lack of busy-ness.  The space in time when you walk for 8 hours with nothing but the hiking poles in your hands and the sound of your footsteps.  Usually, I fill the gaps in my days with work, family, food, chores and fun, but on this pilgrimage in a foreign land with foreign customs and foreign language, I had more time in my own head than I have had in twenty years.  This made me take the time to consider all aspects of my life, from my family, to my attitudes, my friendships, my work, where I dedicate my time and energy, and what I want to be when I grow up. I would love to share here that I had an amazing apparition and fixed all my problems, answered all my questions and addressed all my deficits, though I have a long way to go before I find the answers that I am seeking. 

Spiritually, my faith did not strengthen so much, rather I saw my faith and my religion from a whole new perspective.  I enjoyed 40 days and nights where faith, story, history, relics, texts and belief were constantly surrounding everything I did and everywhere I went.  Tiny towns hosted multiple grand churches, each with multiple altars, all exquisitely crafted and decorated many centuries ago.  Monasteries, seminaries, and convents were significant, magnificent, and still active in many communities, while those no longer active were utilised for pilgrims.  Buildings, intersections, roads, houses, and driveways were adorned with Catholic symbolism.  There was no misunderstanding that Catholicism is prevalent throughout Northern Spain, and the prevalence of the church is maintained to this day.  I have never felt so secure and welcomed in my faith as what I have been in the past 7 weeks. Hundreds of churches in which to sit, pray, light a candle, contemplate, reflect, and challenge my way of being.  From the grand cathedrals of Leon, Astorga, Burgos, Santiago, and Pamplona to the humble tumbling structures of San Anton, Rabanal and O’Cebreiro.  From mass with 4 Bishops, to Gregorian chanting of 2 monks, to the sound of discovery of non-religious pilgrims chatting about their own spirituality.  I felt somewhat of a Thomas in reflection as my faith shifted to a different perspective when I was able to see, touch and feel the relics from times that have been unreachable to me in the past. Relics of saints, texts well over a thousand years old, golden crosses, and Catholic Museums housing artefacts since the time of Jesus, had me engrossed at every opportunity.  I only wish I had the time, and fluent Spanish, so I could immerse myself further in the history and theology that surrounds this special part of the world.   

So, what did I learn from my pilgrimage on the Camino for 40 days and 40 nights?   

I learned that: 

• I function better as part of my family than by myself 
• I know far less about myself than I know about other things 
• Thinking is harder than walking 
• A pilgrimage is only the very tip of the iceberg, and it's what you do after the pilgrimage that makes a difference 
• I am blessed to be raised in faith – I witnessed many lost souls on my journey that did not realise there was something greater than themselves 
• Everyone travels their own way depending on who they are and what they can do, and no-one should judge anyone else’s pathway or compare it to their own 
• When you think you have it tough, look up.  In front of you there are many people who have life far more difficult than you could ever imagine 

Walking the Camino with two fellow principals from our diocese was a life changing experience.  It has reset my perspective on life and has challenged me in many ways.  While I initially thought that a pilgrimage was a journey from one place to another, I now understand that a pilgrimage is something that guides and inspires you and has no designated endpoint.  It was an absolute privilege to engage in this amazing journey and see, feel, hear, touch and taste so much of what the Camino provides pilgrims.  Please enjoy the photos attached in this newsletter, and please feel free to stop me if you have any questions about the experience!