This morning I went for a walk with a friend, perhaps two miles. Although the temperature was perfect and our pace reasonable, my feet got a little sore as they often do.

Three months ago, my friend Hieu Dovan, formerly of Davis, walked from southern France to Santiago de Compostela, Spain, 500 miles, and then added 100 miles to reach the sea and explore the surrounding area.

He did this in 42 days, averaging 14 miles a day. It rained 27 of the first 30 days. He also encountered hail, snow flurries and unrelenting wind.

On his back, he carried everything he needed: clothing, sleeping bag, toiletries. The ideal pack is 16 pounds, he told me, but his weighed 22.

This trek sounds like a great adventure in a beautiful place, but if it hurts my feet to walk two miles in Davis’ ideal conditions, could I survive? What makes a person want to do this?

Hieu’s trek is known as the Camino de Santiago or, if you start in France, the Camino Frances. Pilgrims, mostly Catholic, have walked the Camino since the 10th century, recent numbers peaking around 200,000 per year. An entire system for housing and feeding them inexpensively at “albergues” exists on the route, along with many religious sites, and places to get their pilgrim booklets stamped.

At 63, Hieu belongs to a demographic that includes less than 20 percent of the pilgrims. The oldest hiker he met was an 84-year-old Scottish woman who walked in memory of her husband. Ten years earlier, she hiked with him, although he was already frail; she carried both her pack and his.

I wanted to understand why Hieu chose to walk a foot-crunching 600 miles and kept to his plan even after injuring his Achilles tendon before the trip.

I was particularly curious because I had enjoyed a recent movie by Emilio Estevez about the Camino called “The Way.” After the movie, I thought, “My goodness, how do people do that?” I made Hieu promise I could interview him as soon as he returned.

————

In the movie, Martin Sheen plays Tom Avery, whose estranged son dies in a freak accident on the first day of his pilgrimage. Tom flies to France to collect the body, but ends up deciding to shoulder his son’s pack and walk in his place.

A Frenchman asks Tom, “Do you know why you’re walking the Way?” Tom claims it’s for his son, but the Frenchman counters, “You walk the way for yourself, only for yourself.”

“Then I suppose,” says Tom, “I don’t have a clue.”

When my friend Hieu got home, he tried to explain his motivation to me in person and in email — there was no lack of words — but either he didn’t know exactly why he did it or I couldn’t understand his answers. This kind of mystery seems typical of the Camino, part of its spirituality if you want to use that word.

Hieu did use it. “I was not as spiritually inspired as others,” he wrote. “I am the type who is spiritual, but not in the traditional religious sense.

“During the experiences within the old churches, albergues and even while walking, I definitely felt more spiritual despite my humanistic (vs. religious) outlook. I kiddingly told my wife that I had never been as religious as I had been on the Camino. At one point I attended daily mass for a whole week (I had not attended Sunday mass for years!).”

He also likened the experience to Thoreau’s “Waldon Pond.”

“To me,” he said, “it was a two-month meditation.”

————

The movie follows Tom Avery and three companions who share the walk and eventually their secrets. In one dramatic scene, Tom swims a violent river. In the end, he walks extra miles to reach the sea.

Hieu liked the movie but says Tom, “wouldn’t have been able to make it. Give me a break. He was totally unprepared and he was old. If he jumps into that river, boots and all, he’s dead.”

Hieu corrected other impressions left by the movie. Not everyone walks the whole route at once (Europeans often come for a two-week “vacation”), but many do, including pilgrims from the Far East, especially Korea and Japan. Hieu thinks he may have been the first Vietnamese.

Most pilgrims do not walk in clumps as the movie portrayed. They walk independently, meeting others on the trail, at meals, or at night, but not continuing with them daily. Personal rhythms differ too much: Some start in darkness. Some walk fast. Hieu spent extra time each morning taking care of his feet before starting his walk.

Hieu also said that no one spontaneously decides to lengthen the trip, as Tom does in the movie, although Hieu continued to the sea — having planned ahead. This added 100 hard-going miles.

After his trek, the main emotions Hieu expressed were fondness and admiration for his fellow pilgrims. Maybe this is how a pilgrimage works. You start on faith and the reasons for your journey come to you later. (This happened in the movie, too.)

As I listened to Hieu, I envied his sense of comradeship, accomplishment, and peace — to the point where I imagined myself as a pilgrim.

Then I thought about constant rain, a 22-pound backpack, sore feet, and a dorm room of double-decker cots. My doubts grew. So did my respect.

— Marion Franck lives in Davis with her family. Reach her at [email protected]

Comments

comments