The Inner Camino

When I walked my first Camino in 2024, I wanted one thing above all else: to see the sea, to get away from it all, and to find out whether I could actually manage to walk more than 300 kilometres on my own.

Whether my feet were quite so keen on this plan was another matter entirely. In any case, the blisters had their own opinion on the matter pretty quickly.

What I didn’t realise at the time was that the Camino would give me so much more than beautiful landscapes, the scent of the Atlantic and the odd café con leche, which, after a long stage, felt almost like a minor miracle.

It would also bring me a little closer to myself again.

Because sometimes it’s only when things quieten down around you that you realise just how noisy it actually is inside you.

On the Camino, I suddenly had time. Time to think, to dream and sometimes just to walk. Without constantly having to think about what still needed doing at home.

This gave rise to questions for which there’s often little room in everyday life. What do I actually want? What’s good for me? And who am I when, for once, I’m not the one who has to have everything under control and find a solution to everything?

I’ve learnt to listen to myself more. Not to try to control everything. To trust that I’ll find my way, even if I don’t yet know what lies round the next bend.

And I’ve realised how little it sometimes takes to be happy. A quiet moment by the sea. A hearty laugh. A conversation with someone you’ve only just met. People with whom you can simply be yourself.

So when I think back on my three Caminos today, it isn’t the kilometres or the hostels that spring to mind first. It’s the encounters, the feelings and the little stories that have stayed with me. Even a bat that flew straight into my face early one morning has a firm place in my memories. We both gave each other a fright. I suspect it hadn’t planned such a start to the day either.

My experiences ultimately led to my book *The Inner Camino – My Workbook for the Journey to Santiago and to Myself*.

I wanted to create a companion that I myself would have wished for on my first Camino. Not just another walking guide, but a workbook that invites you to record your own thoughts, encounters and insights. With questions that encourage you to pause and reflect, and plenty of space for whatever moves you personally.

Because sometimes it’s only much later that we realise what a particular moment was actually trying to teach us.

And perhaps that is one of the most important lessons I’ve learnt from my Caminos: the journey doesn’t end in Santiago. In fact, that’s where a new chapter begins.

We return home, to our everyday lives, to our tasks and responsibilities. But we are no longer quite the same as we were before we set off. Perhaps we listen more closely when something isn’t doing us any good. Perhaps we dare to do things differently. Perhaps we finally take our own wishes a little more seriously.

Not everything changes overnight. And, of course, a life without problems isn’t suddenly waiting for us at home. That would be nice! But we can take with us some of what we’ve felt and learnt along the way.

Because the Camino continues. In our everyday lives, in our decisions and in the way we treat ourselves. Perhaps the real question isn’t just what we’ve found along the way, but also what we take home with us.

We don’t always have to become someone else. Sometimes we’re simply allowed to be a little more like the person we’ve long been deep in our hearts.

Incidentally, we don’t have to walk all the way to Santiago every time to do that. Although a good coffee along the way certainly doesn’t go amiss.

Petra Baumann, author