Gasping for life.
Gasping for life.
Finding food confidence walking 300kms on the Camino Portuguese Costa to Santiago de Compostela.
There are times when you forget, deep sleep, engrossed in a documentary or walking the coastal route of The Camino de Santiago, as I did in October 2022.
This is not just your normal hiking travel story, highlighting the epic views, the terrain, the people you meet. It’s also a story of courage, a story of hope and how I found my voice & food confidence again after the brutality of head & neck cancer (HNC) treatment.
It began four years before any training, purchasing of wet weather gear and map research. It began the day I was diagnosed with Oropharanygeal cancer. My senses had been assaulted and I was determined to ensure I had other memories & to return to a normal life as possible with dysphagia and the traumatic scars of surgery and chemoradiotherapy.
Head and neck cancer (oral cancer) meant a loss of so many things I took for granted, swallowing food and water being one. A previously confident and driven individual without a disability, I awoke one day to a sinking feeling that I was slowly removing myself from society. Not withstanding COVID lockdowns, that was merely an excuse, I’d stopped eating, participating, talking and most importantly, socialising.
It meant learning a new way of living, having lived a certain way for 53 years.
Learning to swallow, speak & breathe again, not simultaneously as I was to find out.
Preparation for The Camino required motivation, strategy, research, goal setting and training, lots of training. I was to discover that recovery following HNC treatment required the same dedication and effort and so my planning commenced 6 - 9 months out.
I live on my own with no dependents, 2 freeloading black cats and some houseplants I am rather fond of. My mother had been placed in a care facility at 90 years of age and one day I walked into her room and announced I had booked my flight to Portugal & Spain. I’d never been to Europe and The Camino de Santiago was a walk I had dreamt of for many years. Mum (Moira) was happy (she loved Spain) and commented that I was going alone, I reassured her I would be fine. Moira passed away a week later, nothing prepared me for the loss and I was later to find that grief was another challenge my walk would provide the framework for quiet acceptance.
I had “lived” with a PEG tube for two years following my HNC treatment. I could not swallow anything (not even my own saliva) so my daily nutrients were provided by tipping bottled formula into a tube into my stomach.
The mental preparedness for a 300km walk in a foreign country without the comforts of your own kitchen and food was a major tactical planning process.
Not only had I not been to Europe, there were Covid issues, International vaccine requirements, on top of physical fitness, mental preparation, packing preparation, appropriate hiking gear and for me, food and eating preparations. Walking up to 25-30kms a day required quite a lot calories (roughly 3000 a day) and when you can’t swallow, or in my case, have lots of difficulty swallowing (dysphagia), I had to plan for that too.
I chose the Portuguese coastal route of The Camino, known as Camino Portugues.
Starting in Porto and walking the entire coastline to reach Galicia (Spain) and Santiago de Compostela some 300kms in length, along some of the most breathtaking coastal areas and some of the best seafood soup I have ever had.
There are a number of ways to undertake The Camino, I chose this way for two reasons, the first was it was less travelled (The Camino Frances being the most popular) but more importantly I thought I could manage the food on the coastal variant much better than inland routes. Passing through fishing villages, having access to fresh fish, soup, stews rather than charcuterie meats (proscuitto, bacon, sausage, cheese, bread) as it turned out I managed everything that was put in front of me, I just threw caution to the wind, but I am getting ahead of myself.
I trained a lot for this walk. I put time & thought into shoes, socks, undergarments, trekking poles, daypacks, water containers (ones I could actually drink out of) a lightweight thermos for soup. I had to think about snacks on flights, airlines aren’t known for their dysphagia friendly food, but I did know enough from frequent flights to Asia to pre order either vegetarian or halal food, it inevitably is fish, soft and easily swallowed in my experience.
I packed in my 14kgs (day pack and a small check in bag with hiking poles and Swiss army knife) snacks for my flights and walk. I visited Asian grocers and stocked up on tiny miso soup satchets (to have in my thermos) whilst walking or after a long day.
(note to self; Spanish hotel rooms don’t have kettles!)
Two incidents occurred on my flight, Sydney to Heathrow, the cabin crew were not happy to supply me just hot water for my thermos. I can’t manage on board coffee or tea, and I wanted to use my miso soup satchets mid flight for hydration and as food. I was grudgingly provided hot water and attitude, I chose to ignore the latter and didn’t ask for anything again, thankfully metal cutlery was provided on all sectors.
(you can read my struggle with bio utensils here)
It is a long way from Australia to Porto and it took nearly 3 days for me to arrive at my destination. Once in Porto I immediately felt at home. I had booked an additional day before my walk commenced. I had friends from Australia and England also doing some of the walk, they did a variation to my coastal walk (spiritual & central) and were old hands at The Camino having undertaken sections a few years previous. It helped to know I had someone close enough to call if it all turned out badly & someone to share the joy of reaching Santiago and with whom to share red wine and prawn linguine.
I loved the solitude and equally enjoyed the company. It takes a few days to hit your stride but you do get into a rhythm. Day 4 walking and today’s walk took me from Esposende to Viana do Castelo approximately 24 kms, relatively flat and slightly inland away from the coast. Today was to be the day everything hit me emotionally.
The day prior had been a long walk with friends and two lovely Canadian women that were walking the same way and we shared the same accommodation, so often met at the end of the day. The morning started off well, good breakfast with waffles, banana, coffee, yoghurt and fresh orange juice. I started on my own and walked into the coastal mist, I was meeting my Australian friends at a cafe early, our English friends were heading back to England the next day and I was eager to see them before they departed.
Forty five minutes in and I took a wrong turn and walked 4kms in the opposite direction of the scheduled meeting point. I knew I was walking the wrong way (I had to keep the water on my left) but I then had to make the decision to try and find Wifi and a GPS map that was working & possibly someone who could speak a little English, it turned out none were part of my morning.
Everything crumbled, my stride, my tears, my heart and my grief. The death of my mother, the bottled up trauma I had been through came out all at that moment. I stopped & stood in the middle of a busy highway, tears rolling down my face, not knowing where I was and how I was going to find my way back to the right path both literally and metaphorically. Cyclists swarmed through and pointed in the opposite direction, and that’s when I turned everything around.
The day was overcast and cool. I had decisions to make, a destination to be and no time to blubber.
I recognised the hurt, the grief and the need to sit with it all, the loss of my mother and best friend, the last parent had gone, my old life gone, old friends, career, an entire life just disappeared and I had 4 years of healing and trauma to sift through. Added to that, the love of my life made an appearance after 23 years literally weeks before my walk. I had a lot to think about. I kept walking one foot in front of the other head down.
I focused on the tiles, the amazing architecture and the fact that my feet were holding up, I was fit and enjoying the long days on the road. I also noticed my waistline was shrinking. I came across a church with a bell signalling the start of morning mass, it was a sign that I was on the right path and my yellow arrow appeared miraculously at just the right time.
They say The Camino provides whatever it is you need and it did, in spades. It provided new friendships, cemented existing friendships, Wifi, coffee, spirituality, jaw dropping scenery, and for me one particular special moment in all of the 300kms a hamburger I ate on the side of a hill deep in the farming province of Portugal.
I had not eaten anything remotely like a hamburger in 5 years. Dysphagia and radiation means bread, cakes, muffins, ice cream, watermelon, strawberries and meat are just some of the things I can no longer eat. Not easily and not without time and much throat clearing. My walking group that day sat and chatted amicably over coffee whilst I made my way through the hamburger and chips. Steeped in vinegar and sauce. Heaven. I’ll never forget that meal as long as I live!
There were many lessons learnt on this trip, it provided me with confidence to challenge myself physically, time to reflect & meditate on loss and grief and consider new beginnings. I ate & drank more than I had the past four years, I enjoyed it so much I am now eagerly planning my Camino del Norte, all 830 challenging kms of it. Apparently the food mecca of Caminos!
Dedicated to Moira Therese McClaren, March 26, 1930 - April 18, 2022 (92)