A Journey of Faith, Friendship and Adventure
By Sylvester (Syl) Stanisa
The Camino de Santiago, or “Way of St. James,” is a centuries-old pilgrimage across Spain, Portugal, ending at Santiago de Compostela, Spain, where tradition holds that the remains of St. James the Apostle are buried. People walk the Camino for many reasons—spiritual, cultural, physical, personal—or, as was the case for many of us, a combination of all four.
Those who hike at least 100 documented miles, with a Camino passport stamped along the way to verify their journey, can receive an official certificate of completion.
There are four principal Camino routes. The Camino Francés, or French Way, stretches approximately 500 miles from St. Jean Pied de Port on the Spanish-French border and attracts about half of all pilgrims. The Camino Portugués, or Portuguese Way, is the second most popular and can begin in Lisbon or Porto. From Porto, hikers can choose either the approximately 200-mile Coastal Route or the longer Central Way. The Camino del Norte, or Northern Way, follows northern Spain with spectacular ocean views, while the approximately 200-mile Camino Primitivo, or Original Way, is the oldest and one of the more physically demanding routes.
My Camino Journey
My first Camino pilgrimage was in September 2017 with the Cleveland Hiking Club. It was actually my first hiking excursion of any kind. We hiked approximately 220 miles of the Camino Francés, beginning on the Spanish side rather than crossing the Pyrenees.
That first experience hooked me on hiking. Along the way, I met people from countries all over the world, representing every imaginable age group and background. Everyone seemed eager to talk about their lives, their reasons for making the pilgrimage and, perhaps most importantly, what made them crazy enough to undertake such a journey.
When I finally stood in front of the Santiago de Compostela Cathedral with my certificate in hand, I knew I would make another Camino pilgrimage someday.
“Someday” finally arrived in 2025—although it took considerably longer than I had anticipated.
Returning to the Camino
Early in 2025, my close friend Joe Kosir and I began planning another Camino adventure. This time, the Cleveland Hiking Club was already planning a similar excursion, so our trip was organized independently.
We quickly decided that the Portuguese Coastal Route, beginning in Porto, Portugal, would offer a new and interesting experience. Unfortunately, as our plans came together, Joe developed a medical issue and had to withdraw.
The remaining 17 participants met in Porto on Sunday, May 18. We spent the day exploring this historic city before beginning our pilgrimage the following morning. Because we had only one day to see Porto, we arranged a guided walking tour through GuruWalk.
Porto, Portugal’s second-largest city, sits along the Douro River near the Atlantic Ocean. Its historic center is a UNESCO World Heritage site, famous for its port wine, old-world architecture and distinctive blue-and-white tiled buildings.
One of our most memorable sights was the Porto Cathedral, or Sé do Porto, one of the city’s oldest and most important landmarks. Its fortress-like architecture combines Romanesque, Gothic and Baroque elements, with magnificent blue tiles decorating portions of its walls. We ended our day with dinner on the patio of an old local restaurant.
The next morning, we gathered in front of our hotel for a group photograph and walked to São Bento Train Station, itself famous for its beautiful blue-and-white tile work. From there, we took a train to the official starting point of our Portuguese Coastal Camino.
Almost immediately, we began hearing the familiar greetings of fellow pilgrims: “Bom Caminho!” in Portuguese and “Buen Camino!” in Spanish—both expressing essentially the same wish: Have a good journey.
Along the Portuguese Coast
For the first several hours, we walked through the outskirts of Porto, admiring buildings that were hundreds of years old. Some members of our group occasionally wandered off the route to explore local markets and souvenir shops.
Eventually, we left the city behind and entered the spectacular coastal landscape. The Atlantic Ocean provided breathtaking views, with huge rock formations creating small offshore islands. On the inland side, beautiful vacation villas with red tile roofs lined portions of the route.
Much of the trail consisted of wooden boardwalks designed to keep hikers out of wet areas and protect the coastal dunes. The weather was warm, the ocean was filled with whitecaps, and apparently that was invitation enough for two members of our group, Marianne and Patty, to hike directly into the knee-deep ocean water along the beach.
The Camino trails are generally well marked with the familiar scallop-shell symbol, making a tour guide unnecessary. And unlike many organized hiking trips, pilgrims do not normally stay together as a group. People walk at their own pace, sometimes alone, sometimes with friends and often with hikers they have just met.
We had arranged our trip through Santiago Ways, a local travel agency that transported our luggage from hotel to hotel, arranged lodging and organized most of our dinners. Each of us carried only a daypack, containing rain gear, snacks and personal items—about 10 pounds.
That arrangement left us free to concentrate on the journey rather than the logistics.
More Than a Hike
Along every Camino route, European-style cafés and restaurants appear at strategic intervals, providing places for pilgrims to stop for a morning break, lunch or dinner. But these stops are about much more than food.
They are places where hikers from around the world sit together, exchange stories and build friendships.
For Marianne and me, however, this was more than a hiking adventure. It was a pilgrimage—a spiritual journey during which we hoped to reflect on personal matters and strengthen our relationship with God.
Before leaving, we invited people from our church, St. Joseph Calasanctius, as well as others, to give us prayer intentions. We received a stack of requests written on index cards. Each day, we carried those cards with us. Whenever we came upon a church, we would stop, read the requests and pray the Rosary. Other members of our group frequently joined us.
There were also moments when the Camino offered something equally valuable: solitude.
At times, I would find myself walking alone for an hour or more, simply admiring the scenery, meditating, praying or even singing. Those quiet stretches provided a special kind of peace that is difficult to find in everyday life.
Memories Along the Way
The Camino provided an endless collection of memorable experiences.
In Viana do Castelo, we arrived during the Festa das Rosas, or Rose Festival, and found the town beautifully decorated with flowers. It seemed almost magical.
We passed countless rustic windmills scattered throughout the countryside. In one small beach town, we encountered a group of mannequins depicting hikers standing behind chairs and apparently inviting passing pilgrims to pose for photographs. Naturally, we did.
Another unusual stop was Sea Glass Beach, or Praia de Cristal, famous for colorful pieces of smooth sea glass. We were told that the glass originated from an old town dump and had been crushed and polished over the years by the constant movement of the ocean.
In Galicia, Spain, we began seeing horreos everywhere—traditional granaries used for centuries to store corn, grain and other crops. Many are no longer used for their original purpose, but they have become important cultural attractions and are protected.
And sometimes, after a long uphill hike when your muscles are beginning to complain, a group of street musicians appearing along the trail can provide exactly the kind of unexpected encouragement a weary pilgrim needs.
The Adventure We Didn’t Plan
Of course, no hiking adventure is complete without a story that wasn’t supposed to happen.
After visiting Sea Glass Beach, Marianne and Patty decided to take a scenic route over a hill that promised beautiful coastal views. When the established route appeared too long, Marianne suggested taking a shortcut across open terrain.
That “shortcut” quickly became an Indiana Jones-style expedition.
Marianne scrambled up the hill “like a rabbit,” with Patty following behind like a sheep. They bushwhacked through thorny scrub under a blazing sun, expecting to eventually find the trail.
They didn’t.
When they finally reached the top, there was no trail—and no obvious way down. They spent much of the day fighting their way through thorny brush before finally catching up with the group late that evening. Both returned with scratched and punctured legs. Marianne had it particularly bad and eventually required two visits to a local clinic to have tiny thorn tips removed from her skin.
Patty later found the perfect quote to describe the experience:
“It is not the destination where you end up but the mishaps and memories you create along the way.”
Perhaps that is the Camino in a nutshell.
There was even the occasional challenge of doing laundry while traveling light. Patty discovered that underwear hung outside a window to dry apparently doesn’t always stay where you put it. One morning, an updraft carried hers away, leaving some unsuspecting pedestrian below to wonder why women’s underwear was hanging from a tree.
Ancient History and New Memories
Some members of our group took an early-morning side trip up the steep hill to Monte de Santa Trega. There we explored the ruins of a first-century Before the Common Era (BCE) Celtic settlement, including its ancient circular stone structures, archaeological museum and chapel.
The reward was a spectacular panoramic view of the Minho River and the Atlantic Ocean.
We hurried back down the hill and increased our pace to catch the rest of the group.
Another memorable adventure came when we crossed from Portugal into Spain by boat over the Minho River. We waded in the warm water, enjoyed the beach and even danced.
Along the way, evidence of Roman history seemed to appear everywhere—in architecture, roads and bridges featuring traditional Roman arches.
After one particularly hot day of approximately 15 miles of hiking, we arrived at our hotel and discovered a swimming pool outside. At first, it almost looked like a mirage.
Another unexpected encounter came when we caught up with a fellow pilgrim carrying his 2-year-old son in a backpack. He allowed me to carry the little fellow for part of the journey—a small moment that became a lasting memory.
And, of course, there were the churches.
We encountered countless Catholic churches, some with architecture dating to the Visigothic period of the sixth and seventh centuries. Some even had foundations connected to underground Christian worship sites dating to the Roman period.
We stopped at many of these churches—not simply to admire their architecture, altars and statues, but to offer our prayers for the intentions we had carried with us.
Santiago de Compostela
After 13 days and more than 200 miles, the day we had anticipated finally arrived: the hike into Santiago de Compostela and, ultimately, the cathedral.
The beginning of that final day felt different. There was a sense of solemnity and anticipation. For many of us, the journey had become much more than a physical accomplishment. It had become a time of reflection, prayer and personal discovery.
Of course, for those of us with a competitive spirit, there was also a little race to the finish.
Four of us managed to reach the Basilica first.
As we approached Santiago, the crowds grew larger. The various Camino routes merged, and the streets became almost elbow-to-elbow with pilgrims. The excitement and emotion were contagious.
Although my muscles were screaming for me to slow down, I felt remarkably little fatigue.
Then we reached the large square in front of the Basilica.
Each of us touched the brass Camino scallop embedded in the masonry of the plaza. It had been polished shiny by the thousands of pilgrims who had touched it before us.
We had arrived.
We took photographs with the cathedral behind us and waited for the rest of our group to come together. The celebration continued into the evening.
But we weren’t finished.
We had deliberately planned our journey so that we would arrive on Saturday and be able to attend Sunday morning Mass at the Basilica.
A Fitting Spiritual Conclusion
On Sunday, June 1, 2025, our entire group attended Mass at the Santiago de Compostela Cathedral. The Basilica can seat more than 1,200 people, with additional standing room for special occasions.
That day was especially meaningful because it was the Solemnity of the Ascension of the Lord, and we were fortunate enough to witness the famous Botafumeiro. The enormous silver-plated brass censer weighs approximately 117 pounds and is swung in a dramatic arc nearly 65 feet above the cathedral floor by eight robed men known as tiraboleiros. Reaching speeds of approximately 42 miles per hour, it fills the cathedral with the smoke of incense. Watching that enormous censer swing through the cathedral was a breathtaking conclusion to our pilgrimage.
The Mass was solemn and beautiful, with the participation of priests, religious and the local bishop. Portions of the Mass were translated into several languages.
The Journey Was the Destination
The Camino de Santiago is often described as a pilgrimage to the tomb of St. James the Greater, one of the twelve Apostles of Jesus. Tradition holds that after James was martyred in Judea, his body was brought to Spain, giving rise to the shrine and the pilgrimage routes that have attracted travelers for centuries.
But after walking more than 200 miles across Portugal and Spain, I have come to believe the Camino is about much more than reaching Santiago.
It is about the people you meet, the stories you share, the churches where you pray, the scenery that takes your breath away and even the mishaps that leave you scratched, tired and laughing afterward.
It is about walking alone and discovering peace.
It is about walking with others and discovering friendship.
And for Marianne and me, it was about carrying the prayers and hopes of others with us every step of the way.
In the end, we certainly reached our destination.
But somewhere along those 200-plus miles, we learned again that on the Camino—and perhaps in life itself—the journey is every bit as important as where you finally arrive.
