An Atheist's Pilgrimage

In January, 2021, to keep in shape during the pandemic, I started participating in virtual challenges. I would pretend that I was travelling along a world-famous route whilst walking around the block—or even, around the house—or by getting on my bike.

Being the winter in Ottawa, the first bike I rode was my indoor spin bike.

My Camino de Santiago medal.

The first route that I 'took,' using The Conqueror Virtual Challenges app, was the Camino de Santiago pilgrimage trail, which is more than 770 kilometres and runs from Saint-Paul-Pied-de-Port, in Southern France, crosses over the Pyrenees Mountains, and finishes in Santiago de Compostela, in northwestern Spain. DW also purchased this challenge (she was the one who suggested that we do this virtual trek) and we could see each other's progress as we went along.

Though I had known about this trail long before DW and I started the virtual journey, the Camino de Santiago really wasn't on my radar as far as travels I wanted to do in real life. And as we did the journey from the comfort of our own home and neighbourhood, we didn't get a real sense of the actual challenge, itself, especially when I did most of it on my spin bike.

After having completed the 205-kilometre P'tit Train du Nord in four days, the thought of doing 770 kms on foot seems daunting.

Earlier this year, one of our close friends decided that she wanted to walk the Camino de Santiago trail in real life. She had also participated in the virtual challenge with us and her mother had done the real trail at one time.

I was tempted to join our friend but knew that at the time, I probably wasn't in enough shape to do it and I would probably slow her down.

Besides, I told myself, the Camino de Santiago is a religious, spiritual journey, making your way to a massive cathedral and passing several churches along the route. And I'm an atheist who doesn't believe in spirits or that we have 'souls.'

Why would I want to participate in a pilgrimage?

When our friend completed the journey, I was really impressed, though not surprised. She's an adventurer and world traveller, and she was well-prepared for the challenge.

DW asked me if I'd be ever interested in doing the Camino, and I said I might be, but that I would have to find a reason why this trail would be the one I wanted to take. When I took the virtual challenge, it was to keep in shape during a time of lockdowns and social distancing. It was just a daily goal that I set for myself in order to cover that distance in a timeframe that I had set for myself.

At the end of each day, when I entered the distance that I had covered for the day, I would see where I was, virtually, on the Google street view in the app. The towns and villages along the way were beautiful, and I said that someday, I'd like to visit them in real life: not necessarily by walking to them but in travelling to them, one way or another.

This weekend, DW and I started discussing our next big vacation, which until recently was going to be back to Costa Rica. We've always wanted to go to the Osa Peninsula, known to be the most biodiverse place in that country, if not the world.

Because we're getting older, DW and I want to take vacations that are the more physically demanding now, rather than later. We want to see hard-to-reach places while we can still physically reach them.

We want to climb a volcano in Guatemala. We want to hike the forests on the Osu Peninsula. We want to kayak the northern waters of Lake Superior.

And now, we want to walk the Camino.

But we've decided that we don't want to hike the northern route, as our friend did. We want to blaze a new route. And so, we've started looking at Portugal.

Porto, 2022.

I've loved Portugal since DW and I went in 2022. I loved it so much that after only 36 hours in Porto, I told DW that when we both retired, I wanted to move there. I still do.

I would do this journey, not for any spiritual reason but for a chance to return to the country that I fell in love with. We'd get to know it even better, traversing it on foot. We'd put our bodies to the test, carrying everything on our backs and using our feet to carry us.

Also, since I lost my job, in March of 2025, and after I finished writing my mystery novel, I've felt a bit lost. I've never considered myself to be retired, but as I quickly approach the age where I planned to officially retire, I've had doubts about my self worth.

Maybe this pilgrimage will be what I need to find myself.

While I've always been fascinated with the architecture of old churches, I've never bought into the purpose behind them. I've always been respectful of other people's beliefs while thinking to myself, whatever.

If DW and I do the Camino Portugués, it will be an atheist pilgrimage. Stay tuned.