Walking long days can push you to your edge.

So when you’re walking long days with other people, sometimes everyone’s edges bump up against one another.

But more often, what comes out is something beautiful.

Someone will have a blister, and someone else will have exactly what they need.

Or someone runs out of snacks, and someone else offers an extra tangerine.

Often it’s in the small things that you see love on the Camino:

Slowing your pace just enough that the person next to you won’t fall behind.

Carrying your roommate’s suitcase down to the lobby.

Grabbing an extra coffee or an extra cold drink.

A host offering to find a restaurant in town where 12 people can sit together.

Someone listening to someone else tell about losing someone they love.

Someone making someone laugh when they are too tired to keep going.

On the Camino, there is love to be found every day if you are awake to it.

And I suppose that is true everywhere in the world.

But on the Camino, I am paying better attention. I am watching for it. And I think maybe I am more ready to give love as well.

Ted and Stephanie, who you might remember as the owners of an extra suitcase, arrived on the Camino after they had been traveling together all over Europe. They were sightseeing, but they were also still working remotely, so they would start their work day in the afternoon.

I expected that they might be tired of traveling and juggling work. I thought they might even be a little tired of each other when we all met up in Porto.

But they were not. Far from it.

They literally held hands every day while we walked the Camino. Not all day, but at multiple times throughout the day. It was absolutely precious.

They were good-natured and genuinely happy to be together. And seemingly happy to be with all of us as well.

They showed up with love on the Camino.

And this has been a theme all year…folks showing up with hearts open and ready for the walk and for the new friends they are going to make along the way.

It’s been fun to watch.

Since I often pray that I can meet everything and everyone in my path with love, I have enjoyed learning from others this year about how to do just that.

Mini Walking Stories is a project I’m doing this month to catalog a fabulous year of walking. During December, I’m inviting you to come along with me on one of the walks I took in 2022. Read more stories here. Or subscribe to get stories to your inbox here.

The post Mini Walking Stories: Love on the Camino appeared first on Alison Chino.

Imagine you have just arrived in Portugal after flying all the way from the United States.

When you arrive, I start walking you all over a new city to keep you from falling asleep, promising that if you just make it to dinner, you’re going to be well on your way to getting over jet lag. You can go right to sleep after dinner.

The town of Porto is gorgeous. As you walk, you see elaborate churches and buildings covered in brightly colored tiles. There is so much to look at that you can scarcely take it all in. We head down to the Duomo River, where there is a little breeze as you wander along.

You finally make it to dinner. The table has beautiful view out over the river, but a part of you just wants to put your head on the table and go to sleep.

You’re not even sure you want to eat, and you’re certainly not in the mood to try something you’ve never seen before.

Maybe you are the kind of eater that is willing to try one or two new things a day, and you already tried six at lunch. Now you’re at the point where you just need to put food in your mouth so you can get yourself to bed so you can sleep and then wake up and feel ready to face the world again. We start the real walk tomorrow.

You open the menu. Everything looks unfamiliar. Porto is near the sea so there is a lot of seafood, which you are not sure you can face.

But then, wait, you spot one dish that says “grilled chicken,” and you think: Yes, I will have that. I can face a plate of chicken.

Everyone else decides what they want. A lot of adventurous seafood is ordered. Octopus, squid, a salted cod dish that is traditional when eating in Portugal.

And now it’s your turn, oh yes, please I will have the chicken thank you.

But then the waiter, who has politely written down everyone else’s order, stops. He doesn’t write chicken or frango, which you’ve just learned is the Portuguese word for chicken. No, instead he begins to try to talk you into something else. Maybe you would like their specialty, the Portuguese bacalhau? No? What about the pork? or the beef?

No that’s ok, you say. I’ll just have the chicken.

And then he pauses again. He is still not writing down your order. He is looking at you like you’ve insulted his mother, which perhaps you have by not agreeing to eat the cod. Maybe it’s her recipe?

And then he speaks with a startling amount of indignation,
Lady, are you telling me that you are going to come to my country and order chicken?

At this point I jump in for you and say, she actually really likes chicken.

Then he looks at me and continues, Please, look out the window. You are in eating in Portugal. I will tell you what are the most beautiful dishes of my country. When I come to your country, you can tell me what to eat.

At this point every is laughing but you. You are something between bemused and dumbfounded, but one thing is becoming painfully clear. You will not be having chicken tonight.

Mini Walking Stories is a project I’m doing this month to catalog a fabulous year of walking. During December, I’m inviting you to come along with me for a few minutes on one of the walks I took in 2022. Read more stories here.

The post Mini Walking Stories: You Come to My Country and Order Chicken? appeared first on Alison Chino.