Lam Unfiltered

When I landed in Lisbon I was very prepared. I picked up my backpack from the luggage carousel, removed my pack and poles from my cheap zippered Ikea bag, folded it, stored it and walked with confidence out of the airport and onto an Aero-bus. Well, almost that effortlessly. The ideal weight for me to carry on my back was 15lbs, and my backpack was closer to 20. No matter how hard I tried, when packing and re-packing at home, I could not cut any more items to make my bag lighter. I felt I really needed those 10 packs of organic oatmeal, the collapsible travel bowl and thermal metal drink container. I also had my travel purse, which only weighed 800 grams, but how to stuff it into an already full pack? I had not trained with my pack very much, and the first time I put it on at the Lisbon airport, I realized that I was going to have to get stronger, very quickly. [Later I found out I could store some of my unnecessary items at my pension for 3 weeks, which helped my pack weight immen...

The first time I was in Porto, it was early April and Porto was still chilly and  very wet. Three weeks later I loaded myself onto a bus in Santiago and traveled in three hours what had taken me two full weeks to walk. It was a little mind-bending, and I watched out the window for signs of the path beside the highway. I emerged from the bus station like a mole from the ground, with a tourist map in hand. I scanned around for a landmark - and then began to weave my way towards the city centre. I don't know why I was so hesitant to take the Metro, it was right beside the bus station, but I think you miss so much when you are underground. You learn so much about a city by walking the streets. Once I saw Sao Bento train station, I breathed a huge sigh of relief, I was back in somewhat familiar territory. You have to picture me at a street corner waiting for the light to change. Mid 50s, massive backpack, travel weary and dusty from my walk across town - clunky blue hiking boots a...

Apologies in advance for referencing my solo trip so often, but it was a necessary [incredible!] experience - and the first time I have been alone in a very long time . Solo travel is a massive experience. When I spoke to friends and co-workers about my plans, most assumed I would be traveling with my partner, and when they found out I was going to Portugal alone, they assumed I would be traveling with an organized group, which I was not. Reactions varied from horror to dreamy envy. My actual trip was the opposite of organized, which was difficult for this Librarian type A Virgo. My gear I planned to death, watching YouTube videos from August until March preparing my supplies lists and shadowing other people on their journeys. I decided early on that the more popular French Way, across the north of Spain would be too long and has become busy crowded. I was walking for isolation and quiet, and didn't want to worry about finding an Albergue with space every night, plus that Camino ...

I am obsessed with two of my toenails; two tiny fatalities from my trek through Portugal and Spain in April. It was my 5 th day walking the Camino Portuguese, and I had to climb a small mountain, really only a hill at 505 metres, but for me it was a mountain. It was raining, and the water coursed down the rocky path I was attempting to climb. My waterproof hiking boots were proving to be not-waterproof.   The path was steep, and I had to move from rock to rock, my heart was pounding with exertion and I felt absolute despair, wondering if my heart would stop and that I would be found soggy and dead, lying in a puddle. I remember thinking that if I died how traumatizing that would be for my family - so I kept on climbing, rock to rock, through the water. My guidebook described the climb as lovely one, and not too difficult. I found it hellish – and I was angry every step. I was angry at my body, for not being young and pliable, and as strong has it had been 20 years – 15 y...