Camino Goals: In Retrospect | Budget Bucket List

Camino Goals

I’m going to be entirely frank with you: I just articulated a spontaneous brain fart during Christmas dinner, telling my entire family I was going to walk the Camino de Santiago de Compostela. I had no idea why I said that, how it had entered my brain, or what that even meant… but one thing is clear, especially anything travel-related: I walk the talk, always… and quite literally this time.

Up until 2 weeks before I actually set the first step I still had no clue about which Camino to walk (apparently there were several) or how long that would even take. I didn’t train, I didn’t buy new gear, and luckily, with 6 years of full-time adventurous travel in my back pocket this wasn’t necessary in retrospect, but still: the news of 900KM to be walked, from Saint Jean Pied de Port to Finisterre, hit me pretty raw in the face. I’ve climbed more mountains than I remember, I hike every single week… but never ever did I go this ridiculously far in one single blow. Why do people even do that, what’s wrong with them?

I was about to find out.

Little did I know that these 6 weeks would change almost every aspect of my life, without planning on it or even realizing this was necessary.

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While I sat on the bus towards southern France, mentally exhausted after the few most hectic days of my life in which I had to prepare everything, including an entire humanitarian Camino-fundraiser that I last minute decided to pull out of my ass (with internet page and printed promo-material designed from scratch), I scribbled some overall objectives on a dirty piece of paper. Goals, perhaps. I might as well… Not knowing back then if they were by any means realistic, or this is what you’re ‘supposed to achieve’ on an endeavor like this.

I finished my Camino end November 2019. Today I am half a year later into my life. Time to look back and reflect:

“Deal with family- and relationship-related dramas”

Well right, why not deal with the most complex ones first, ambitious lady? It’s interesting how I wrote this down as one problem, while in fact they formed two entirely different issues dominating my life in their own complex ways and requiring completely different solutions. I guess my head was so clouded at the time that I wasn’t mentally capable to see them apart.

It’s true that 2019 was one of the most complicated years of my life so far (way rougher than the 2020 corona-quarantine that was hanging above all of our heads), especially in the family sphere. My mother ended up in the hospital, my ‘stepmother’ experienced a severe worsening of her M.S., my sister was diagnosed with breast cancer at an extremely young age and shortly after that my ‘stepfather’ was diagnosed with cancer as well, currently going through chemo after metastases in his kidneys, lungs and bones. I mean, how much does one family have to endure in such a limited time frame, for f*ck’s sake? At the time of my Camino I just stepped out of the hectic thunderstorm around my sister’s first operation, whereby both of her breasts needed to be amputated, and the month I spent in her house after that to take care of her (I might be always abroad and far away – that lifestyle also grants me the flexibility to return when need is high, while others have other responsibilities making this impossible). During this period there was no time for my own emotions. How useful is it really to have someone at your side breaking down, while you’re trying to deal with, you know, cancer?! I just needed to straighten my spine, smile when there was no reason to, and tell that everything was going to be okay without actually knowing if I was telling the truth or not (luckily – it was going to be fine eventually, in her case).

While walking the Camino de Santiago all these emotions of insecurity, fear of loss and the pain of seeing someone you love suffering surfaced when I least expected. In the Meseta, when there were no views, no hiking buddies and nothing to take my mind off things, reality swiftly caught up with me. I found myself crying miles on end, sometimes screaming loudly into the empty landscapes. Letting the dark clouds out. Healing. Accepting.

The problems I faced in my relationship I saved for the very last moment, when I had mentally fixed everything else. It was the most unpleasant task of all, ruining my mood just thinking about it. Sometimes you care so much about somebody you simply don’t want to accept that this is not the right person for you (nor you for him), even though the signs are painfully clear. I guess I knew from the moment we met, but my heart was already too far in to move on. So I didn’t. I stayed with him for 2 more years, in which I experienced high, exhilarated peaks for which I will forever be grateful, but also heart-shredding lows bordering blind panic and depression.

We are two very fiery, dominant people (2 Leo’s) who need someone more laid-back on our side to calm us down a tad, control the fire a little, not someone to push us further over the edge and throw in some extra oil so we can burn the entire place down. Only when my family drama happened on the side and put everything in perspective, I realized how much (both positive and negative) energy and attention this person put into, but also demanded from this relationship, and how much this drained me (especially now my energy was needed elsewhere, which wasn’t properly understood in the ego-storm always raging and always being denied). However much we are the same in many personality traits and our intensity, our life paths and needs couldn’t be further apart, and I suddenly saw that crystal clear far away from everything. Especially when I requested some quiet time to think and reflect, but drama kept being fed onto the digital channels I carried with me on the Camino, I was pushed into the final decision. Did I still love this person? Yes. Do I think he is a good man? Absolutely, it’s hard to meet anyone that loving, caring, generous and also intelligent as he is. Are we what we both need? Definitely not. It’s time.

… As such, the last thing I was mentally ready for was meeting somebody else. But love always strikes when you’re most vulnerable and least expect it, doesn’t it? Hush hush, save your disappointment for another cause, I’m not the cheating kind. As I didn’t officially break up until after the Camino (it just didn’t feel right to do such a thing on the phone – although I eventually had to as this man and I were hardly ever in the same country), I didn’t touch anybody else, nor opened my heart for a new romantic adventure. Most of the Camino I in fact quite successfully and purposefully avoided people in general, as this was my ultimate me-time. Only when this last problem was mentally dealt with, just before I set foot in Santiago de Compostela, I was ready to fully connect again.

He arrived at the same day as I did, after finishing the Camino del Norte and Camino Primitivo. We weren’t supposed to meet, as I wasn’t heading for Finisterre for another day, but a casualty changed my plans… I also wasn’t supposed to walk 37KM in one go, and he didn’t mean to take an early break, but there we were, in the same albergue, being hiking-buddies with the same person we both met on different phases of our Camino’s. Every time he smiled it felt like the sun broke through. As a group of 4 we continued the days to come on to Finisterre, this being the symbolic pre-decided ending of only his and mine Camino, while the rest continued to Muxia. Together we returned to Santiago, hitchhiking, where we spent the last day together, running through the rain and picnicking in front of the cathedral where it all ended and simultaneously started. It would be a beautiful story if this is where we had our first kiss, but as I was officially still in a relationship and in full denial of any of these emotions as there simply wasn’t any space for them, we clearly didn’t. Don’t worry though, the story gets much better after this:

This man, who despises social media, left me his address in southern Spain. Newly single, I sent him an old-school postcard from the Netherlands, telling him about my plans to travel to the Swiss Alps and land a job. Even though he had hardly ever left his country and on top of that, just broke his arm, he jumped into his old sturdy van and drove 4 full days (with one hand) to reach the Alps. After the first kiss (finally) we zigzagged through Switzerland in his van for a week, and basically immediately moved in together, into a tiny bedroom inside of the hotel I got hired at in the scenic alpine village of Adelboden. Unable to speak German, he nevertheless got offered a job as a Spanish chef in the same company and promptly stayed. If being together 24/7 from Day 1 wasn’t intense as it is, corona happened, and we bounced straight into quarantine together, without any other friends or family members around us… just each other. And now the truly crazy thing: It works. We just celebrated our 4 years (which is how we jokingly call our 4 months) and we just click. No stress, no drama (only when I start it, after which he swiftly distinguishes the fire). I guess the Camino truly brings like-minded people together. For sure we have one hell of a story. Eat that, Tinder.

Before I started my Camino I visited Lourdes with Couchsurfing-friend Pierre, who gifted me a drop of holy water to bless me on this journey, helping me to find what I'm looking for... Now I did, it hangs in front of the van, leading our joined Camino - Gracias.

“Get my head around some outline of a future plan, obviously within the framework of full-time travel – where do I stand now, and where do I go from here?”

I gave a part of it away in my previous love story, but let me dive into it a tad deeper. I have been traveling for 6 years straight, full-time, completely at random and super-duper-basic. Don’t imagine any fancy resorts or cocktails at infinity pools (although those situations do come at me sometimes, by sheer luck): I hitchhiked around the globe solo, spending no more than 5-10 bucks a day, including everything. And yes, if you wonder, I honored this principle during the Camino as well, where I sometimes slept outside, sometimes at Couchsurfers houses and cooked my meals every single night to avoid spending money on pilgrim menus or other Camino luxuries. Anyway, the Camino leading me to brutally honest conclusions, let me also come to terms with the fact that the blog you are reading right now isn’t enough to live on* (so please stop asking how I do it, haha: I know a fair bit about crypto-trading, that’s my secret). Sure, I get a lot of stuff for free, which I only accept if it matches with the budget-travel-objective and if I trust the company, but that simply doesn’t pay the bills. I think I’m a pretty good writer, but I’m simply not good at marketing myself or commercializing, and I’m not willing to be all sexy on Instagram either… I will definitely continue this blog, as it’s my prime outlet and way to give back to the travel community, but I accepted that this is not the cash cow and I should get my money to fund all of this elsewhere.

* Of course, voluntary donations are always welcome to at least break even with the website costs and many daily hours of work.

Luckily, this is no problem. Even though I’m a complete rootless vagabond, I didn’t neglect the necessity of education. I have in fact a cum laude bachelor and master’s degree in the pocket, and speak in varying degrees 9 different languages. The golden ticket to the job market, as even though I met highly intelligent people without a degree and ignorant arse-heads with a doctorate on their name… this is how our system works. And if you want to get something out of that system, you need to play along. As such, I’ll have a job, anywhere, wherever… while the kilometres were walked away steadily on Spanish grounds, my mind made a trip around the world, evaluating the pros and cons of all different job markets. I decided to not over-complicate my life and stay in Europe where my European passport allows me to initiate labor in any country. Then I selected three top-earning countries, as why exchange time for a low salary when you simply don’t have to: play it smart. I decided that 2020 was going to be the year of earning enough for the years of travel to come, working 3x 3 months in subsequently Switzerland, Norway/Finland and Iceland/Luxemburg, with one month in between.

I live here now, this is my village.

We all know how that went, 2020-style… I indeed went to Switzerland, landed a job ridiculously fast, got paid about twice the Dutch salary, skied every free moment in the breath-taking Alps that are now my backyard… and then got stuck in quarantine. That said, I kept my job even without much work to be done, the Swiss government paid me 80% of the salary even after working only 1,5 months, I lived inside of a 4* hotel (incl. sauna and big gym) with the guy I just fell in love with… and well, I’ll be here quite a bit more, I guess, saving up as much as I can... As the corona-crisis pretty much crashed the international job market and traveling isn’t the wisest option now.

In conclusion: Also in this regard I made the right decision exactly at the right time… imagine being stuck in some third world country with a broken bank account, no work, and no house. Phew. Thanks, Camino.

[We’re currently researching the feasibility of starting our own business in 2021… along the Camino de Santiago. The Camino just never lets go, does it?]

“Test and expand my own mental and physical boundaries (mainly referring to the early alarms here)”

Turns out that in October / November you can start hiking at the end of the morning, being able to see the entire Camino at daylight and get 10 hours of sleep, while still having a bed the night to come. I’ve never not had a bed when I wanted to have one, not one albergue I stayed in was ever full. In fact, I have been many times the only pilgrim in the entire hostel. Yes, low season rocks.

That said, I did expand my mental and physical boundaries big time. Mentally my nomad-lifestyle has already stretched ‘em up to the max in terms of open-mindedness and being miles outside of my comfort zone, but just the space of letting thoughts breathe and having absolute mental silence (normally I have about 50 tabs open simultaneously) to evaluate my own limiting routines and mental shortcuts without sparing myself my own brutally honest evaluation… that’s the root of further personal growth. Physically I 100% amazed myself. It’s just walking, fair enough, and the Camino Frances is far easier than most trails I ever did… but just every single day, that’s the complication. With painful pressure points and popping blisters, and rain and snowstorms (yes – really) and every f*cking piece of your body hurting… this is where both physical and mental strength come together to keep pushing. To just keep going and going and going, as you don’t want to disappoint you, the only person to whom you should ever want to proof yourself.

I never doubted if I could pull it off or not. They literally had to run a truck over both of my legs for me even considering not going until Santiago, I’m just not the type to throw in the towel or take it easy on myself (I never had a bus/taxi in between either, nor organized luggage delivery – I don’t judge others, we all have our own boundaries and limitations, but I’d never forgive myself). But when I actually did reach my end point, I couldn’t stop smiling. I did it… I f*cking did it.

“Raise funds for an admirable cause”

Check! Like the brainfart of walking 900 whooping kilometers around the block, another brainfart initiated the plan to raise some money for Charmont Bilingual Academy while at it. I’m often sceptical with ‘good causes’, as a lot of money gets lost along the way or disappears into the wrong pockets… but I had zero doubts about this cause rooted in Honduras; an HIV-relief project that started a school for the surviving generation, rescuing deprived children (in terms of disease / poverty / sexual and physical abuse) out of their environment by means of education. Why? Because I actually volunteered for it in person, stood in front of the classrooms and got to know all admirable people involved personally (the Canadian project manager adopted no less than 13 children on top of running the aids-clinic and school, just to rescue them out of poverty), as well as the children I am doing it for. It was top-stress to get it all prepared last moment, but I’m glad I could raise a nice amount, thanks to the generosity of many amazing people, to support the in-school food program, feeding an entire school for about 2 months. Like this, I’m not the only one advantaging from my Camino.

“Lose some weight while at it”

I did. And then gained it again, mainly in muscle. Or in fat, I don’t know. But that’s okay, as I gained something else along the way: total acceptance of my body. My physical appearance has moved in all different directions, and it’s true: People base their opinions and overall treatment of you entirely on that, most people are that superficial, even though they tend to deny it. I have been an insignificant-looking chubby kid, and I was bullied to an almost inhumane degree and beat up after school every single day, year in year out, developing severe anorexia at a later age to be ‘in control’. And I have also been very beautiful; my size 36, round ass and voluptuous boobs, bright blue eyes and playful freckles forming lines and lines of men to choose from, hearing appraisal all day long from an ever-changing ensemble of voices. Inside, I’m exactly the same person, who might be funny, intelligent, witty or none of the above, but only the physical side seems to count in the society we live in.

I’m getting older though. Slowly from the physical side, in my case, but it’s happening. Wrinkles are slowly appearing in increasing quantity, I have to remove a grey hair here and there, and since I passed the 30-line, weight suddenly doesn’t vanish with crash-diets and some gym-raiding. It’s more work for less results. I used to get extremely frustrated with this, exercising even more furiously, and cursing every new influence in my life that could possibly have caused the sudden weight-gain. But I found my peace over the last few months. I have always been (post-anorexia) living a healthy lifestyle, following a low-fat / no-sugar / high-nutrient vegan diet and getting plenty of exercise and fresh air. Knowing that, I’m content. I might not have size 36 anymore, and I probably will never get that again without getting sick or entirely starving myself, and that’s okay. I think I look radiant and healthy, you can see happiness in my face and I should really count my blessings when looking in the mirror. All in all, the line of men still didn’t vanish (and while I age - they didn't), but their relevance diminished: I love me, and that’s all that matters – in size 34 or 42, with or without wrinkles and saggy tits (not there yet – but I’m mentally ready), I embrace all that I am. And if anyone doesn’t, I can’t see how that’s my problem.

“Pause and breathe. Reflect, process and rise.”

That’s an accurate conclusion in all described above, instead of a goal in itself. It’s more of a result of all this inner and outer work that the Camino entails.

I had zero expectations. Yes, I read all those hysterical reflections of the magic experience that apparently comes out of simply putting some hiking boots on and start walking for weeks on end, limiting your material possessions to two set of clothes and a tooth brush… but I never expected to write one myself. As my lifestyle is already entirely in line with the Camino way of life, I thought it just served as an extension of the journey… nothing more and nothing less. I grossly underestimated the meditative state of being while engaging in the simple act of walking… alone… day in, day out. The self-healing properties of the brain when left in peace. The creativity and ideas emerging out of pure silence.

I fixed everything. Ready to make some new stains on the clean slate and stir up the clear waters in the journey ahead of me… the perfect imperfections of life, that’s what I love the most about it. I live too hard to walk in a straight flawless line, I loop into a thousand wild detours and learn from every turn and pothole, as these moments are when you laugh the loudest and experience the deepest depths. Breathe. Breathe again. And go 1000 miles an hour.

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