Claire Goes Walking

APRIL 2026 – My name is Claire. I am a woman entering my 50s. I’ve traveled to every continent at least once, including Antarctica. I’ve worked in the tourism industry for most of my life. This blog is about getting down on “paper” some of my walks, journeys, travels, and thoughts as I navigate myself back to me.

I grew up in New Zealand, lived in Sydney and London, learned to hike in the Swiss Alps, backpacked independently around South America, guided groups through Latin America, and hiked the Inca Trail five times to Machu Picchu in Peru, all by my early 30s.

In my 30s and 40s, I moved to Uruguay, married the love of my life, raised a child, and developed a tourism business. And I forgot all about walking. I forgot what it meant to me to just put one foot in front of the other, sometimes with a set destination, at times just for the joy of movement, out in the fresh air, in nature, or walking through a new city, discovering new places, people, and cultures. The simple act of walking, which once filled my soul with joy and curiosity, faded into the background of daily life. The hustle and bustle of responsibilities took precedence, and I unconsciously silenced that part of me that longs for adventure and connection with the world around me.

A couple of years ago, I started to feel a pull, so I signed up for a day hike in the Sierra de Las Ánimas, and as I walked through the long grass, bushwhacked up hills, and finally summited the 400 masl viewpoint, a wave of real bliss washed over me. The vistas revealed a world of beauty that I was eager to explore, and each moment felt like a triumph of rediscovery. It sparked a longing within me; I wanted more. Unfortunately, Uruguay doesn’t have long hikes. There are no cabin-to-cabin trails, no national park trails, and no mountains that offer the challenge I craved. There are plenty of day hikes, sure, but nothing like the epic adventures of my past—something I could really sink my teeth into.

Well, the algorithms must have been listening in just to prove me wrong, as just a few days later, I saw an ad for a 4-day guided hike across the remote countryside of northern Uruguay, and I signed up on a whim, unsure if I was fit enough anymore. I hadn’t slept in a tent for years. I didn’t know if I could walk for 12 hours a day across trackless countryside. Wading through rivers, wearing heavy gaiters to avoid potential snake bites, with no showers and no toilets, plus the challenge of hiking with no option but to move forward, no getting out once we started — I was both thrilled and terrified. But I needed to find out. So in at the deep end I dove.

And I loved it! I loved every moment of it! It was hard, it was scary, it was sweaty, and yet it was authentic and beautiful! The landscapes were stunning, and with each step, I felt more alive. I began to remember not just the physicality of walking but the profound connection it gave me to my environment, and to my own spirit. The camaraderie of fellow hikers added to the experience, each of us sharing our stories, songs and experiences, as we moved through the rugged terrain, and ate around a campfire each night.

Encouraged by this newfound exhilaration, I wanted to do more. My husband and I took a work trip to Spain. I had never been there before, and the experience triggered a forgotten memory. In a past life, (in my 20s), I had worked in a buvette in the Swiss Alps along the trail of the Tour du Mont Blanc, and there, I met a lady who ran an albergue in Spain, right on the Camino. I hadn’t heard of it then, but she spoke so passionately about the pilgrimage and what it meant to those who walked it. She told me stories of the path’s magic and the people who found solace and clarity in the journey. She even wrote her name and address down on a piece of paper, offering me a place to stay if I ever found my way. Though I lost that piece of paper, the seed she planted in my mind took root, and I thought about taking her up on her offer. Maybe not of her hospitality, as I had no idea by that stage where she was in Spain, but at least on the idea of the walk.

Last year, in 2025, I flew to Portugal to start my pilgrimage to Santiago de Compostela. It was both a culmination of my past adventures and a new beginning, helping me reconnect with who I am. Each step reflected my past, and through this challenge, I discovered clarity, purpose, and a reminder of the joy in my wanderlust spirit.

And I keep planning more walks, each one a step towards personal growth and discovery. For me, it’s the way to move forward, both physically and mentally. Next, I am going to Italy to walk the Via Francigena from Lucca to Rome. I’ve never been. I don’t speak Italian. I have no expectations. Along the way, I hope to immerse myself in the local culture, eat some good food, and meet fellow travelers to share some good times and stories with. And longer term, I am planning that greater challenge, the thru-hike of the Appalachian Trail in the USA. Georgia to Maine, baby! The thought of that particular challenge makes me feel a little nauseous, but I figure I’ll just keep walking, as every step is not just a movement forward but a journey toward understanding myself better and embracing the world around me.

¡Buen camino, and I hope to see you along the way!

Saludos, Claire.