Guest Blogger: Ana Maria Brum. Ana is the owner and manager of the Alvorada Medieval Albergue in São Pedro de Torre, Portugal. A Portuguese national, Ana was first inspired by the Cathedral of Santiago as a teenager and walked her first Camino in 2012.
Portugal and Pilgrimage
Like many who choose to walk a Camino to the Cathedral of Santiago, I have a story—one I share both to inspire and to honor the spirit of the Camino.
First, a little about me. I was raised in Portugal in a family with strong ties to Our Lady of Fátima. For those who may not be familiar, Cova da Iria is a sanctuary site located in Ourém, Portugal. This Sanctuary of Fátima is dedicated to the spirit of the Virgin Mary, who first appeared to three shepherd children while they were tending their animals in 1917. This was the first of many reported sightings in the area.
In 1930, the sanctuary was officially recognized by the Bishop of Leiria, José Alves Correia da Silva. In 1946, by papal decree of Pope Pius XII, it was formally designated a holy site, and the Chapel was later elevated to basilica status.
Today, the sanctuary receives between six and eight million visitors annually. It can be reached by pilgrimage routes from Lisbon (157 km) and Porto (228 km). These routes are distinguished from the Camino de Santiago by blue arrows, rather than the familiar yellow. More information about the sanctuary can be found on its official website here.
Now, on with my story.
My Camino Story
Although I visited the Cathedral of Santiago at the age of sixteen on a school trip, I had no idea it was a thousand-year-old pilgrimage destination. At the same time, despite my familiarity with Fátima, walking there was never part of my plans. Pilgrimage walking simply wasn’t something I had ever considered for my life.
That changed in 2009, when a friend told me she was going to begin her pilgrimage to Santiago with another friend. Without knowing anything about long-distance walking—or even what the Camino de Santiago really was—I felt a powerful desire to go with them. Still, I decided not to.
At the time, I didn’t even remember that I had already been to Santiago. Later, while looking through old photo albums, I recognized the magnificent Cathedral and was reminded of how strong that desire had been to join my friends on their journey.
Even so, my interest never developed into true curiosity. I didn’t research the Camino or make plans, though the idea remained in my mind. That “bug”—the desire to one day walk a pilgrimage to Santiago de Compostela—never left. Life happened, time passed, and other priorities took over. The idea faded, though it was never forgotten.
Then, in 2012, under the most unlikely circumstances—illness and the arrival of a massive storm—everything changed.
At the time, I was seriously ill, diagnosed with a severe lung infection with only 50% of my respiratory capacity. Breathing was difficult, and the pulmonologist treating me recommended hospital admission for observation and oxygen therapy.
Listening to the doctor, something clicked. If I was going to struggle to breathe, I would rather do it in nature, walking the Camino. Surely that couldn’t be worse than lying in a hospital bed.
And so it was.
I bought some basic equipment, and just like that, I was off. I set out from Valença, Portugal, facing my fears and the weather to walk my Camino. I carried only one sheet of paper listing public albergues and their locations along the route—places with strange, often hard-to-pronounce names. I had no timeline; it would take as long as it took. One step at a time, without rushing, I focused on breathing and healing.
I walked without a mobile phone, smartphone, or guidebook, following only the yellow arrows and the way-markers of the Camino.
It never crossed my mind that I might not find a bed or need a reservation. That was never an issue. The weather in Galicia was relentless, with storms battering the region, and I often felt small and fragile in the face of such powerful nature. Yet it was magnificent and breathtaking.
Despite my illness and the harsh conditions, I always felt confident and accompanied, even though there were few pilgrims on the route. Step by step, moment by moment, stopping often to catch my breath, I learned to dance and sing in the rain and live fully in the present. I felt as though something was watching over me, ensuring I was always safe.
What I Learned and How I Changed
We often get lost in the details of life, trying to maintain a false sense of control and clinging to our comfort zones. Isn’t that why the Pilgrimage to Santiago—and other pilgrimages—can be so transformative, healing, and liberating?
Just let it flow.
My first Camino de Santiago was empowering. In the midst of adversity, I discovered my faith and returned home a different person. It was one of the most difficult and, at times, crazy experiences of my life—but also one of the most transformative.
Today, through my work, I try to give back what the Way has given me. At Alvorada Medieval, in São Pedro de Torre, I am at the service of the Camino and its pilgrims, offering shelter and nourishment—both physical and emotional. I feel deeply privileged, having found my purpose in welcoming the world into my home, as one big family.
Bom Caminho!
Photo: Igreja de Santa Maria dos Anjos in Valenca, Portugal. Photo credit Ana Maria Brum
Note: No compensation was paid or received for this publication. This is not an advertisement.
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