I Walked El Camino for my Mental Health, And Found Inspiration (Exclusive)

I called it my “mild Wild.” 

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. 

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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. 

The real source of my joy, though, was the walking itself. 

There was something so comforting and ritualistic about waking up every morning and knowing my only task for the day was to walk to my next destination. There was something meditative about following the yellow arrows that guided my path. A lot of pilgrims who embark on the Camino solo do so with the intent of finding their Camino Family — a group of like-minded souls they can walk with each day and share wine with each night. It’s a special kind of friendship forged over blisters and a fear of bedbugs, and I met travelers of all ages seeking companionship on the trail. 

But what I quickly learned about myself was that I didn’t want company as I walked day after day. I liked being alone. I liked starting my day whenever I wanted and resting whenever I needed it. I ate what I wanted to eat and I napped when I wanted to nap. It was pure and total freedom. 

For those two weeks, I gave myself permission not to work on my book at all, looming deadline be damned, and as a result, I found myself writing nonstop, at every cafe and restaurant, on every bench and in every budget hotel. I filled an entire journal with my notes about the experience — Notes that would eventually become my fourth novel, Every Step She Takes, about a woman who spontaneously ends up trekking the Camino in the midst of an existential crisis … sound familiar?

The Camino didn’t cure me (ongoing therapy and Prozac double-teamed that particular depressive episode), but it did give me something I didn’t know I needed: time. Time alone. Time to think and time to self-reflect and time to get to know myself. Time to connect with my body in a way I never had before. Time to find inspiration and refill my creative well. Time to appreciate all the things I’d left behind. 

As soon as my trek began, I knew I would want to write about it someday, and it only made sense to turn it into a love story between the characters Sadie and Mal at the center of my new novel. It made sense to use the literal journey of the Camino alongside the emotional journey of romantic love and self-love. To write about the blisters and the wine; the food and the people and the beautiful countryside. 

I loved writing Every Step She Takes because it allowed me to relive one of the best experiences of my life. There were rough moments along the way, of course. There were times I didn’t think I’d make it to Santiago de Compostela, times I called my girlfriend crying because I missed her and our dogs and sitting on the couch watching Netflix. 

But when I did make it to Santiago, it almost felt like a homecoming. Like a tight hug after a long day. Like a hard-won victory. I hope that’s how readers feel when they experience Sadie and Mal’s Camino journey in Every Step She Takes. If, like me, you love reading about travel, here are some other romance novels to satisfy your wanderlust. 

Something Wild and Wonderful by Anita Kelly

A full-Wild, this romance about two men who meet on the PCT is one of the most beautiful novels I’ve ever read. Heartwrenching and hopeful, like all of Anita Kelly’s books. 

Whenever You’re Ready by Rachel Runya Katz

Katz is the queen of the rom-com-traum, and this Southern sapphic road trip novel about grief, Jewish history and Black identity will make you laugh, cry, and swoon x100. 

A Shore Thing by Joanna Lowell

One of my favorite historical romance novels ever, featuring a botanist heroine and a trans hero thrown together on a bicycle tour of Cornwall. A+ banter and slow burn. 

It Had to Be Him by Adib Khorram

A sweet, steamy second-chance romance set in Italy, where the setting is as hot as the love story between Ramin and Noah. 

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