Was it Fun
"Was it fun, nope. Was it miserable, nope. It was what it was...
I just finished walking over 100 miles on the Portuguese Coastal Route of the Camino. I made friends with Irish expats in their 70s, a former orphanage owner from Germany who complained like a leaky valve until I got her talking about “her kids.” I walked alongside an undercover priest who broke out a karaoke mic and serenaded my friends and I with “You Raise Me Up” in a desolate bar.
Was it fun? Nope. It was not fun- it was something better than fun.
Americans have an infinity with fun. We gamify education. We seek fun at work. At home. Our kids crave fun; they long for distraction. But fun is not always the best end result. Most of my fourteen days hiking the Camino were anything but fun– long lines at the airport, cancelled flights, lost luggage, being lost on a hillside in Portugal…. an urgent care visit in Barcelona.
We woke at 6:00 am to roosters. We walked 8-18 miles a day with 20 pound packs. Our feet ached. My body refused food on the final two days. Was it fun, nope. Was it miserable, nope. It was what it was– a goal, a chance to walk the same path as thousands before me: sinners and saints.
It was endless uplifting stories from my Quaker walking partner who spent over 40 days on the French route a decade ago. It was translating Spanish. It was being grateful for the lady who ran into her house and served us cold water out of crystal glassware. It was finding our hostal amidst cobblestone streets and a quirky GPS. It was deciphering foreign lockboxes, foreign menus, foreign communication.
There were glimpses of fun: when the Irish belted out Danny Boy. When we found our priest at the Cathedral in Santiago at our journey’s end. When I did yoga in a renovated convent during a blackout. But “fun” is like a word you cannot translate fully. It doesn’t quite fit what it was– and for someone who loves words….I can think of a lot of things the Camino was, but fun just doesn’t capture its enormity.
