Distance traveled: 21.9 kilometers

Despite having spent the entire time en route to Santiago fully planning to continue walking all the way to Fisterra on the Atlantic Coast, I ultimately really agonized over whether or not to do this. My friend Lou and his husband Shawn had rented a car and invited me to join them for a few days of driving around in Portugal, and it was a very tempting offer for numerous reasons, one of which was that it was supposed to rain the entire week, so walking didn’t sound like the best idea. Staying in hotels and eating great meals and generally feeling like I was on vacation were also tempting, and of course, Lou and Shawn would have been great company. I also figured that spending a few days with them could have been useful on a spiritual level, given that they are both retired Lutheran ministers! (I had already found so much of the counsel I received from Lou and Chuck – also a former minister – to be extraordinarily helpful and instructive.)

On the other hand, I worried that I’d regret it if I didn’t keep walking. Aside from the fact that I’d been planning to walk to the coast all this time, I felt so empowered physically thanks to the three very long last days I’d done; it was almost like the entire 33 days had been a test that I had finally passed, and now I could coast (no pun intended). I knew I wanted to do this walk to the coast and that, realistically, I had no idea when I’d actually be back and able to do it. And, as I had been saying to the other pilgrims who’d originally planned to continue to the coast and then backed out when they saw the weather forecast: if we’d had this weather a week ago while we were still on our way to Santiago, we wouldn’t have stopped walking!

I’m someone who approaches major decisions logically (usually with a robust pro/con list) as well as with my gut, and ultimately, it’s usually my gut feeling that wins the day. Even on this Monday morning when I was to leave Santiago, my gut still wasn’t sure, and I took my indecision to mean that I should just default to my original plan. I had a leisurely breakfast with Shawn and Lou, checked out of my hotel, put on my backpack for the first time in 65 hours, and started walking west out of the city.

After the nearly 40 kilometers that I’d walked on Friday to reach Santiago, this was a very short day. I was alone for nearly the entire walk; it was well over an hour after I left Santiago before I encountered another pilgrim. That was jarring, not only because no other portion of the Camino had been that isolated but also just because I’d spent the past 48 hours in such a social and celebratory mode, surrounded by most of my Camino friends! The part of me that had started to wonder if perhaps I wasn’t actually an introverted extrovert (rather than an extroverted introvert) grew more convinced that I’d transformed into a person who was dependent on others for energy.

The walk was pretty uninteresting. I passed through a series of towns (which generally felt far more modern and less isolated than the ones that characterized most of the rest of the Camino), and most of the time I was just walking on the side of the road.

As the day went on, I grew more and more unsettled. I don’t know if it was the isolation or some combination of other unknown factors, but by the time I arrived in Negreira, I was in a state just below full-blown panic. It’s hard to explain – I just felt very much that I was in the wrong place, and it was physically uncomfortable. I checked into an albergue and then sat on my bed, texting my mom, Adam, Lou, and Sam. “Should I just come back to Santiago?” Mom told me to trust my gut and go back. Adam told me that whatever I chose would be the right decision. Lou offered to come pick me up. Sam (who was a day ahead of me with Rosa) told me she understood what I was saying and suggested that I take a taxi to where they were. Ultimately, I decided that this was just another challenge of the Camino that I needed to let develop. I’d stay where I was, and if I didn’t feel any better in the morning, I’d reverse course and walk back to Santiago.

The rest of the day was just as solitary as the walk had been. Although there were others in my albergue, no one was speaking to each other. I saw one guy who I’d seen on and off since the day I left León, but I’d never spoken to him and wasn’t in the mood to try. I ended up reading, napping, and then eating a nice meal alone in a restaurant that had a Real Madrid game playing on TV. I felt more normal at that point but still unsure of what the next day would bring.