If Not Now, When? Lessons from Walking the Camino de Santiago

Although I was walking slowly, my heart was racing, and I could feel anticipation vibrating in my body. I tried to slow my breathing, to take in my environment with all my senses, wanting to make the moment last.

After seven months of planning and a month of walking, I was about to reach my destination.

Walking towards Spain on the Littoral variant of the Camino Portuguese

Why I Decided to Walk the Camino de Santiago as a Solo Woman

I had chosen to take two months off and walk the Camino de Santiago from Lisbon to Santiago de Compostela. When the idea was gifted to me in February, I was instantly captivated by the notion of strolling through quaint villages munching on Pastel de Nata and sipping on local wines. Then began the battle between my romantic ‘trust the universe’ self, and the logical planner who wants to know if we are really sure this is a good idea. In the end I asked myself “why not now? And if not now, when?” I couldn’t come up with a good reason not to go, so the romantic won and I booked my flights for the fall.

We humans get too wrapped up in the notion that decisions need to have significance, some sort of profound reason. Before you grew up and started taking life so seriously, you trusted your intuition and did things just for fun. What if you cut yourself some slack, and gave yourself permission to embark on a folly? What might your adventure be?

Lush landscapes abound on the Central Camino Portuguese

What It’s Really Like Walking the Camino: Heat, Distance, and Doubt

The sun was both beating down mercilessly, and reflected back up at me by the blinding white path. An hour before a fit-looking southbound Frenchman (who had walked all the way from Grenoble) warned me this section was dangerous, and he was right. It was only day three and I faced a walk of almost 20km without shade or water. My bag felt impossibly heavy, even though the day before I had detoured several kilometres to a post office, where I mailed 10lbs of overenthusiastic packing to the Poste Restante in Porto. The pain of the straps digging into my shoulders and hips was a welcome distraction from the misery of each footstep on the ludicrously hard-packed gravel. What was I thinking? This isn’t how this was supposed to go. Where were the cafes and kindly strangers wishing me “Bom Caminho”?

The Ponte Medieval de Pontesampaio near Pontevedra Spain

I was obsessively checking my watch to see how far I’d come, each time disappointed by how little progress I’d made. So, I made a deal with myself: stop looking, walk for 45 minutes, rest for 5, repeat. I found what shade I could crouched in brambles, behind a crumbling wall, or under the occasional tree. I made myself drink copious amounts of electrolytes, munch on my snacks, and keep putting one foot in front of the other. The hilltop city of Santarem came into view like a mirage shimmering in the distance. I put in my earbuds, cued up Creedence Clearwater Revival, and let the steady beat of swamp rock be my metronome. Would today ever end? I fantasized about trading my hiking boots for runners, and dumping another batch of excess baggage. 11 hours, and 37.7 km after I began my day, I crested the agonizing climb into Santarem, simultaneously exhausted and elated.

Learning to Slow Down and Adjust My Camino Plan

The next morning, I had another meeting with the two Emma’s in my head. Part of me wanted to stubbornly stick to my plan, not wanting to admit defeat. The softer, more gentle Emma reasoned that we could have more fun if we slowed down. Just as I had shed unnecessary items from my pack, it was time to shed the unnecessary expectations I’d imposed on myself. Taking the day off to explore the city, I ate black spaghetti with garlic prawns for lunch, and grilled squid with new potatoes for supper plus several Pastel de Nata, and I knew I’d made the right choice. Just because you have a plan, you don’t have to stick to it, especially when it’s not working. Stop, take a breath, evaluate the situation, and make a new plan.

Sunset over the Douro river in Porto, Portugal

How I Stayed Motivated on the Camino (One Small Goal at a Time)

My new Camino plan meant shorter distances, longer breaks, more cafes, and more wine. Each day had its own emotional arc, often impacted by weather. It is a curious thing to decide to walk a long distance for no reason other than ‘because I can’. At any point I could have taken an Uber to skip a section, or given up entirely and taken one of the many trains that sped past me. But I wanted to walk more than I wanted to quit. There were several moments I considered quitting. But each morning I’d wake up feeling refreshed, my feet no longer aching, and I’d start walking again. To help keep me motivated, I set myself mini goals, mostly related to eating and drinking stops. I delighted in getting up early so I could start walking in the dark, and watch the dawn slowly reveal the landscape to me. I swam in the Atlantic Ocean. I waded thigh-deep through flooded paths. I MacGyvered a hands-free parasol by duct-taping an umbrella to a shoehorn and strapping it to my pack. I learned new phrases and practiced them on amused strangers. Each night I reflected on all I had accomplished that day.

Heavy rains flooded sections of the central Camino Portuguese

The dopamine hit you get from persevering is far more intense and long lasting than that you get from likes on social media (or Pastel de Nata). When you do something that takes conscious effort, something that is hard and even unpleasant, you build your confidence. You build your capacity to believe in yourself. You plant the seed to start planning your next idea or adventure. Even as I walked to Santiago I had already decided to add on another 3 days so I could walk out to the ocean at Finisterre. And I decided to solo through-hike Canada’s Great Divide Trail (GDT) in 2026.

What the Camino Taught Me, and How I Apply It to Everyday Life

29 days. 694 kilometers. 921,112 steps. It all started with those first steps in Lisbon. With breaking the whole trip down into days, and each day down into bite sized chunks. I write this in January from my home in British Columbia, the same week that Parks Canada bookings opened up for the sections of my crazy GDT adventure. As I look at the daunting 71-day schedule that will take me along the spine of the Rockies from Waterton to Kakwa Lake, I remind myself of the lessons I learned on the Camino: Be kind to yourself. Take care of your body, and your mind. Have fun.

Taking in the moment of arriving at the Cathedral in Santiago de Compostela

Thinking About Walking the Camino?

If you’re contemplating walking the Camino de Santiago, my Camino Confidence course is here to help you feel prepared, grounded, and genuinely excited, not just about walking the Camino, but about planning it too.

About the Author

I’m Emma, a life coach, writer, hiker, and believer in choosing the long way. I walked the Camino de Santiago in 2025, starting in Lisbon and finishing at the Atlantic Ocean in Finisterre, and it changed the way I think about effort, rest, and what we’re capable of when we stop rushing ourselves. I help women who are standing at the edge of change learn to trust themselves, build confidence, and move forward with intention, one small step at a time.