I Walked El Camino for my Mental Health. But I Found My New Romance Novel Along the Way.
Author Alison Cochrun wanted to take the storied trek to help with depression and writer’s block. Along the way, she found something else she never expected.
When I decided to trek the Camino de Santiago in May 2022, I wasn’t experiencing a full Cheryl Strayed-level life crisis, and I certainly wasn’t willing to camp on the Pacific Crest Trail to fix my problems. I have never been that depressed.
But that spring, my mental health wasn’t in a good place thanks to the volatile combination of two years of pandemic lockdown, switching my antidepressants, my undiagnosed ADHD and a horrible case of writer’s block. Every morning, I sat down in front of my computer to work on my third novel, Here We Go Again, and every morning, I tortured myself with that blank screen.
I was stuck. I felt stagnant, uninspired and trapped.
Until I learned about the Camino, that is.
The Camino de Santiago is a series of pathways through Western Europe all leading toward the burial site of St. James at the cathedral in Santiago de Compostela. For the devout, it’s a pious pilgrimage, walking hundreds of miles as a show of faith. For the hundreds of thousands of intrepid travelers who make the journey, it’s a transformative outdoor adventure that challenges your body, mind and spirit.
For me, it was an excuse to drink cheap Portuguese wine and eat Pasteis de Nata while waiting for my Prozac to reach full efficacy.
So, I booked myself a flight to Portugal with only a month’s notice, despite the fact that: 1) I knew nothing about the Camino outside of this basic definition; 2) I didn’t have any proper equipment; 3) I’d never traveled internationally alone; and 4) I didn’t even like to walk all that much.
But I did walk, over 200 miles in total over the course of 13 days, from Porto, Portugal to Santiago de Compostela, Spain. I bought a pair of Hoka sneakers, a 20L Osprey backpack, and everything else the blogs recommended for a long-distance trek. (I’d like to echo the importance of Compeed, Ibuprofen and some kind of moisture-wicking footwear.)
Naturally, things got off to a rocky start, as they tend to do when you make impulsive life choices with little preparation. First, I overpacked my bag, much to the dismay of my shoulders, and had to leave behind several precious items at my hostel in Porto. Then I miscalculated the distance of my first day on the trail and ended up walking 22 miles, hobbling my way into Vila do Conde after 10 hours of walking. My feet looked like ground beef afterward.
Yet, despite the shin splints and the sunburn peeling off my face (might I also recommend a hat), I hadn’t been that happy in a long time. The sunshine helped, as did the staggering views of the Portuguese coastline. I met the kindest people — both fellow pilgrims and locals alike —and I basked in moments of beautiful solitude. The delicious coffee I drank during my mid-morning break, the even better wine I sipped with dinner, and the exquisite food I ate all day long filled me up in a way I wasn’t used to.
Though, admittedly, all food probably tastes exquisite when you’re trekking an average of 12 miles a day
