When I was 15, I first traveled to continental Europe. This was one of those bus tours that takes you to multiple tourist attractions each day and drops you off each evening at a nice hotel. I had a big camera bag (no smartphones with cameras) and took pictures of everything. I was definitely a tourist, always looking for the perfect photo op, the perfect souvenir, the perfect experience that I could share with friends and family when I returned. And yet, I don’t remember many details of this trip. I have a photo album and a collection of memorabilia somewhere in storage. And that’s about it.

Several years later, after graduating from university, I took another trip to Europe that was very different from my first experience. I had decided to walk the “Camino de Santiago”, an ancient pilgrimage route through northern Spain that leads to the tomb of Saint James in the Cathedral of Santiago de Compostela. There would be no bus, no tourist guide, no good restaurants, no hotels. I was determined to make the 500 mile journey on foot, carrying everything I needed in a backpack and staying in simple “albergues,” or pilgrim hostels, each night. My motive was also different. I was not traveling to collect photos, memories and experiences; I walked the Camino as a kind of offering to God, a way to thank him for the many blessings I had received during my time at university. And it was also supposed to serve as prep time. I had just been accepted into seminary, and after the rush of comprehensive exams, final assignments, and graduation, I needed time for silence and prayer. So I swapped my satchel for a hiking backpack and flew to Spain. This time, I was not traveling as a tourist, but as a “peregrino”, a pilgrim.

Since I had to carry everything I needed for the trip in a backpack, I left my camera at home, packing only the bare necessities. I had three clothes changes which meant I had to hand wash my clothes every few days. To save money, I rarely ate out. Instead, I cooked simple meals with other pilgrims in the albergue kitchen and shared stories from the day’s walk and what inspired us to start the journey in the first place. I can still feel the cold, misty mornings of hiking in the Galician mountains, the scorching sun beating down on us in the desert Meseta. I remember the vineyards of La Rioja, red poppies springing from a stone wall. I remember the sweetness of the cherries I picked on a branch that hung over the path, the joy of singing with other pilgrims as we got closer to Santiago.

All in all, these two trips to Europe couldn’t have been more different. And the more I think about these two experiences, the more I have come to appreciate the benefits of being a pilgrim over being a tourist – not just in travel, but in life.

Here are some habits that can help us to be more like pilgrims and less like tourists in life. First of all, a pilgrim seeks to satisfy deep, not just superficial desires. On the Camino, I wasn’t so much driven by the desire to find the perfect souvenir; instead, I focused on my friendship with God by taking time for silence and prayer, and spending time getting to know my fellow pilgrims. Second, a pilgrim seeks to be a joyful companion rather than a companion who complains when expectations are not met. The tourist sets his expectations based on an image taken from a postcard or a travel guide; the pilgrim is open to the presence of God in the present moment, whatever the circumstances. Third, a pilgrim embraces sacrifice and hardship as a necessary part of the journey, rather than always seeking comfort or pleasure. The toughest hikes on the Camino were also the most rewarding because they offered beautiful views of the Spanish countryside, but also because they tested what I thought I was capable of.

In life, we can often be distracted by superficial desires; choose to pursue deep desires rooted in your relationship with God and with your family and friends. It is the desires that will eventually fulfill us.

We are often distracted by forming false expectations based on the opinions of others; choose instead to focus on the joy of God’s presence in the present moment. Be a cheerful companion, not a complaining companion.

We are often given the choice between staying in our comfort zone or being challenged; choose to do the hard things in life. Overcoming challenges probably won’t bring comfort, but it can bring peace.

We are all on a journey. Are you a pilgrim or a tourist?

Reverend Brett Garland is the pastor of St. Mary’s Parish in Delaware. Prior to moving to Delaware in 2020, Father Garland served in English and Spanish speaking parishes on the west side of Columbus. Growing up on a family farm in Fayette County, Ohio, he enjoys returning home to spend time with his extended family.