A Stone, a Prayer, and a Heavy Heart on the Camino
Breakfast at 7.00 and ready to go by 8:00 a.m., and the air is buzzing with anticipation. Today is the day—the mountains are calling, and our first real uphill climb begins. I am feeling better after a solid night’s sleep, and we’re ready to tackle the challenge ahead.
By 11:45 a.m., we reach Foncabadon, 5.45 km into our journey. The steepest part of the climb looms ahead, and it’s time to gear up. Marching boots? Check. Hiking poles? Ready to work their magic.
At 1:30 p.m., we’re standing at the top of the mountain, sitting beneath the iconic Cruz de Ferro (Iron Cross). As we climb to the cross in quiet meditation, I can’t help but reflect on the countless pilgrims who have passed through this sacred spot. Each one laid a stone and offered a prayer, marking their personal journey and intentions.
I brought a stone from home, a small piece of my world to carry with me on this journey. While Aboriginal elders teach us to leave stones where they lie, I feel drawn to this place—a place of spiritual healing, a place to lay down burdens and set oneself free. Today, that freedom feels harder to grasp.
To be honest, I’m struggling. The weight of yesterday’s exhaustion lingers, and now, at the height of the Camino Francés, I feel unwell and deeply miss my family. The emotional toll of the journey has caught up with me, and all I want is a hug—a simple, grounding reminder of love and connection.
I’m doing my best to hide how I feel from Kim and Alison, not wanting to burden them with my low spirits. But inside, I’m hoping for a release, a moment of clarity or peace that will help me move forward. The Camino is as much an inner journey as it is a physical one, and today, my heart feels heavy.
As I stand here, stone in hand, I whisper a prayer—not just for myself, but for all who walk this path carrying their own invisible weights. Maybe this is the lesson: to acknowledge the pain, to let it sit with me for a while, and then, when the time is right, to leave it behind.
The Camino doesn’t promise easy answers, but it offers moments of profound connection—to the earth, to others, and to ourselves. Today, I’m holding onto that hope, trusting that the release will come, one step at a time.
By the time we reach Manjarin, I'm feeling exhausted and decide to take a taxi for the remainder of the journey. The kind lady at the café comes to the rescue and arranges one for us. Kim comes with me and Alison continues on with our new friends.
We are dropped off at La Casa del Peregrino which is an Albergue with dorm rooms and private rooms. The albergue is new, completely different from the one listed in our itinerary, but we're in the right place. We are in the private room section. Being part albergue, it definitely has an active vibe about it. We check in and are told we need to choose our dinner menu. We take a guess and order for Alison as well, otherwise we are told she may miss out. Alison arrives a little over an hour later. She definitely picked up her pace without me holding her back.
For dinner, everyone is seated at group tables, so we get to meet people from all over the world. I was sitting next to a French woman who had been walking over 30kms every day since St John de Pier de Port in France.
Today’s stats:
Steps walked: 22,031
Distance covered: 9.8 km on foot, plus a 6.8 km taxi ride
Buen Camino, even on the hard days. 🌿
Kim, Louise & Alison
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