Hola Peregrinos,
It’s 18.07 on Thursday 23 April, SPANISH time.
I have made it to Spain but I am not feeling as as elated as I would like to have been.
I’m totally gutted for Lizzie: see below.
But in accordance with her wishes, the show goes on!
Lizzie sent me the post below this afternoon, after we held a long video call as I waited quayside, for my ferry across the Minho river which separates Portugal and Spain.
Lizzie wrote:
“Well, this is definitely not how my Camino was supposed to end.
I’m devastated that a suspected tear in my meniscus has brought my time on the Chemin St Jacques to a halt — for now. I trained hard for this, and although I was finding it tough both emotionally and physically, I was determined to finish. But this is an injury I couldn’t have predicted, and one I can’t ignore.
Still, I’ve walked 66 kilometres in three days, and I’m proud of that. I’ve taken in incredible scenery, met wonderful peregrinos and, best of all, shared it all with my brother Martin.
Losing Hannah last July taught me, in the hardest way imaginable, just how unpredictable life can be. Since then, I’ve come to believe deeply in the importance of how you respond to the hand you’re dealt. After losing my beautiful girl, I chose to respond by doing something positive — creating Les Histoires d’Hannah. It gives me focus, and it means so much to hear her name spoken and to see her legacy growing.
So here I am — sitting in a wheelchair, wearing my yellow Crocs, in a Portuguese hospital. Not exactly part of the plan. But I’m incredibly grateful for the care I’m receiving. They’ve even stamped my Camino credentials, which somehow helped me decide how to respond to this moment.
My Camino isn’t over. It’s just paused.
I’ll be back — maybe with shorter distances and more breaks — but I will continue. And when I do, I’ll start again from the gates of this hospital.
I’ll bring my yellow Crocs and my glass sunflower, and I’ll carry my beautiful girl in my heart.
Thank you all for your continued support and so much love to Martin as he continues his walk to Santiago.
Bom Caminho for now 💛🌻
Love Lizzie x
I am gutted.
It wasn’t meant to be like this.
But that’s the ups and downs of life.
We can shout and rail and curse and fume, or we can choose to quietly accept it.
C’est la vie.
It is what it is.
So I will follow my sister’s request and walk towards Santiago de Compostella.
I’ll try to walk and behave in a manner that honours both Hannah and Lizzie.
I have approximately 150 km left to walk.
In our all too brief time together Lizzie and I enjoyed some wonderful moments.
Despite the obvious pain she felt, which we attributed to knee strain and blisters, we loved the beautiful scenery and the time to chat together.
We left our hostel before 07.00 on Wednesday morning and within 10 minutes we were on the coast.
The Atlantic Ocean was to be our almost constant companion for the next 26 km as we headed north.
We passed early morning fishermen and agricultural workers hard at it the fields.
They work hard in Portugal.
We met up again with Anna from Ukraine and her friend Anton.
Lizzie was in her trail shoes: a real shame, as her yellow crocs would have offset Anna’s coat perfectly.
They headed inland as the trail became rougher.
We had to fly hack our way out of trail dead-end.
The vegetation was soaked in the morning dew.
Everything felt fresh, clean and pure.
All was well in our world.
I rang my son Jake.
Wednesday saw his 28th birthday.
Every one of his birthdays is a time of gratitude for our family.
Many of you know his story.
I posted a birthday message in the various group chats that follow my Camino.
“Bom Dia Peregrinos,
Hope you have a wonderful Wednesday
Today’s a very special day for the Moorman Family.
The Birthday Boy! ❤️
Jake Moorman, the original Boy Wonder’s 28th birthday!
Super proud of my boy, especially as 12 and 10 years ago he underwent critical and life saving brain surgery!
We truly got a miracle.
Proud of who is and what he has become, a nuclear geologist: they must have left some brains in there!
Lizzie and I found some beautiful beaches.
What a wonderful life!
Bom Camhino everyone.” x
Jake was on the way to Munich as we spoke, via Dublin, for a birthday short break with his lovely wife Abbi.
That boy embraces life to the full.
He always did as a child.
And he certainly does as a man.
I guess you can understand why.
He has looked down the barrel twice!
It must forge his perspective.
Gratitude for his attitude, was my overwhelming emotion.
Actually for both their attitudes.
Those 2 are loaded with attitude.
We crossed a beautiful river and cut across country tracks full of beautiful wild flowers.
A little old lady, dressed in black, toiled in the fields, her legs bent with age and graft.
She gave us a wonderful “Hola” and cheesy grin.
So beautiful.
Horses and donkeys stared at us.
Clearly we were a novelty.
Who were these crazy people?
The trails were cool and shady: it was perfect walking conditions.
Bucket hats are all the rage in these parts.
The trail returned us to the coast.
Gorgeous beaches: unspoilt and unpopulated.
Our walk then took us down onto the sand for 7 km.
Liz walked bravely.
She said it was probably easier to walk the beach than the trail.
I certainly walked more freely, removing my shoes and socks and relishing the fine sand and occasional overshooting wave, that soaked my ankles.
We stopped for a drink and calamity struck.
I left my stick behind.
I found that Trekmates stick 2 weeks before I started my Camino, on a Lakeland fell back home in the UK.
It served me well, particularly on steep inclines and when my feet really hurt.
I realised that I had left it behind, 5 km too late.
There was no way I was going to do a 10km round trip to recover it.
I nearly left my water bottle behind at the next stop.
The kind waiter ran 100 metres up the trail to reunite me with it!
The ocean was a salve for my soles.
I loved it.
Locals told us that a small ferry boat over the river Limia to our destination town of Viano do Castelo was running at 3pm.
We were short of time.
I ran ahead to try to ensure I could hold it for Lizzie who was limping behind me.
No joy!
The boat was there but no ferryman!
Apparently the police had closed the service?.
Why?
I have no idea.
It was a low point as we now faced another 4km walk to cross the river via the bridge.
No pilgrim likes unforeseen extras.
Fortunately the waterskiing school was open next door and 2 Super Bock zeros did their reviving magic.
We watched a local whizz kid ski.
He was good.
Too good for this tired cameraman.
Lizzie was spent and decided to catch an Uber.
I walked.
I’m a ‘pure pilgrim’ after all and after walking 9/10ths of Portugal I wasn’t going to cheat myself now.
It was a fairly uneventful 3km.
Nicky and my beautiful granddaughter made a timely FaceTime call.
Perfect timing : they ‘pushed’ me across that bridge, into the town and to the door of my hostel.
As you know, I’m walking this Camino to celebrate the life of my niece Hannah and to support the charity, that her family have set up in her name.
I’ve had a brilliant response so far.
£2,500: KERCHING!
I am SO GRATEFUL for any help you can give us.
Please click the link below if this interests you.
Thank you.
My blog actually started this morning. So it is a bit topsy turvy.
Sorry.
Sadly Lizzie’s news became the main news.
I miss her already.
I’m going to miss her on the trail to Santiago de Compostella.
Love you girl! X 😥
💛💛🌻🌻💛💛🌻🌻💛💛🌻🌻💛💛
It is 05.10 on Thursday 23 April and I’m lying in bed starting to mentally prepare myself for another big day out on the trail.
Santiago feels close.
Much closer now.
Today I will be close to walking my 900th kilometre.
I’ve already walked nearly 1.1 million steps.
On road, trail, stone, gravel, sand, grass, track and boardwalk.
Did I ever say that I flipping love those boardwalks!
If I had my way, the entire British coastline would boardwalked. 😂
Yesterday we got to walk more than 6 km on a beach.
I walked barefoot in the wet firm sand with waves occasionally flushing through my feet.
It was sublime.
A bit stingy too: after all my feet are a bit tender.
But it felt intoxicating, cleansing, healing, uplifting.
The sight and sound of the ocean lifts me physically, emotionally and spiritually.
Light a fire on a beach and it truly “feels like heaven”. 🎵
Flames and waves are the perfect combination. 🔥 🌊
I’ve already surpassed the Proclaimers:
“I will walk 500 miles” 🎵
Pah!
Let’s get serious boys! 😜
That was so last Camino!
“500 miles is nowt “ as they say in Yorkshire.
Yesterday Lizzie and I walked 16 miles, almost 26 km.
You are well within your rights to think:
“16 miles? What’s the big deal?”
And you would be correct, though that thought could be more sensitively expressed perhaps!
There’s a thought?
How often in life, do we get ourselves into spats with people, often our nearest and dearest, purely on the back of how we verbally communicate our thoughts and feelings?
So many fall outs could be avoided.
Surely, “life really is too short?”
Even as I ask this awkward question and as I point my finger forward for emphasis, I can see my own thumb pointing back at me! 🫵
Ouch!
I’m as bad as anyone.
“Oh Lord, please don’t let me be misunderstood “. 🎵
So many family feuds, so much community strife and even world wars have their roots in verbal misunderstandings.
He said/she said.
“Blah, Blah, Blah” as my Camino friend, Anna, from Ukraine, frequently said yesterday.
“It’s not fair!”
We hear the kids in the playground make that claim and we try and correct them, whilst giving it free license to run in our own conversations.
We are often worse than the kids.
At least they forgive and forget and move on.
Us adults?
Mmmmm 🫣
No one ever said that life would be fair.
Look at Donald Trump and the number of times he articulates his point of view.
Mostly, in my view, in a very crass and insulting manner.
“A whole civilisation will die tonight, never to be brought back again. I don’t want that to happen, but it probably will,”
Trump wrote this on his Truth Social platform as he justified his ‘blitzkrieg’ of Iran.
An extreme example from a very extreme individual, but hopefully, you get the point?
In late 1989, Liverpool based band, The Christians’ released a beautiful, hauntingly melodic song, called ‘Words.’
The lyrics are still so relevant to me, you, your spouse or partner, your sister or your brother, your neighbour and Trump himself:
“If I could find words
To tell you I’m sorry
Make you understand
I mean just what I say
After all that I’ve heard
Why should I worry?
When we ride the fine line
Between love and hate
If I had been wise
Well, how could I doubt you?
Now I’m all alone
My life in disarray
But try as I might
I can’t live without you
So I cling to the hope
Of a bright brighter day
Oh, I know we’ve been through this all before
How can I prove my love for you is real?
No, I can’t do anymore
If I could only find words”. 🎵
It’s a beautiful song and almost 40 years on, its message still strikes home.
If the cap fits, we should wear it!
Ouch!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M7_zfivvmwU
Thanks for the read.
Buen Camino.M
Martin x
Martin Moorman is a 61 year old retired Headteacher who lives with his wife Nicky, daughter and her family in North Yorkshire, UK.
Happily married for 36 years, Martin and Nicky have 3 grown up children, all happily married too. In his spare time Martin loves walking, photography, football, renovating cooking and talking rubbish to anyone who will listen!
Martin Moorman 