Laura Davis

Sunday, September 6 For the past 48 hours, I’ve been with my co-leaders, readying everything for the arrival of our student pilgrims. Since our trip is called “the Creative Camino,” we’ve been discussing the best strategies for integrating art and writing into our journey, while walking 8-14 miles a day. Walking that far, there’s no

Saturday, September 5th Last night I sat out on a wooden deck at Hola Camp Camino, just outside Santiago de Compostela, with my co-leaders, Andre and Brenda, enjoying the massive salad Andre had prepared for us, filled with lettuce, green beans, steamed broccoli, beets, pumpkin seeds, goat cheese, fresh olives and many other treats. The

Friday, September 4th Yesterday was a travel day for me. I flew from Berlin to Madrid, then spent a night in a hotel near the airport. I’d be catching a flight today to Santiago de Compostela to meet my co-leaders on the Creative Camino, Brenda Porter and Andre Mallinger, for a couple of days of

Thursday, September 3rd Today was a day for packing up and cleaning the Airbnb in preparation for leaving Berlin. Rather than writing a blog post today, I decided to share this poem to mark the loss of three great souls this week: singer and humanitarian Dolly Parton, the great poet Wendell Berry, and today, feminist

Wednesday, September 2nd Ever since I got off my 11-hour flight from San Francisco to Madrid, wedged in a narrow seat over the wing in cattle class, barely getting up or moving, my knees have been bothering me. They’re not a body part I’m generally aware of, no chronic problems that I know of, but

Tuesday, September 1 Last night, I had my final visit with Michaela before she gets transported back to her home in Belgium to continue her recovery. My last two days in Berlin will be truly solo: no more trips to the hospital. This certainly hasn’t been the reunion Michaela and I anticipated, but we’ve both

Monday, August 31 In my few remaining days in Berlin before I return to Spain for the Camino, I wanted to visit sites commemorating the Holocaust. As a Jew with ancestral roots in Eastern Europe, huge swaths of my extended family were murdered by the Nazis in World War II. Now I was in Germany.

Sunday, August 30 This morning, when I was eating my morning oatmeal, I texted Michaela to check in. She was making progress in her recovery. She was starting to walk, could transfer herself from her bed to a wheelchair, and had made it to the bathroom unassisted. Plans to transport her back to her home

Saturday, August 29 Yesterday, I signed up for an all-afternoon walking tour of the avant garde arts scene in Berlin. The prolific, ever-present art on the buildings and walls of Berlin has caught my interest, so a street art tour seemed like a good choice. So, I bought myself a ticket for a four-hour tour

Friday, August 28 I slept incredibly well last night—the best night’s sleep I’ve had in months. I woke up at 8:30 in the morning after sleeping deeply all night without any sleep drugs or sleep aids whatsoever. I woke up refreshed, prepared to segue into my unexpected week as a solo explorer. Last night, while

The morning after my arrival in Madrid, I woke up at 2:30 AM, wide awake. Since I’d set my alarm for 4:00 AM to catch a 5:00 AM shuttle back to the airport, I simply got up. When I picked up my phone to check the time, I scanned my usual apps. Chuckled over the

After an uneventful flight from San Francisco to Madrid that featured a tasteless turkey sandwich served for lunch before we landed, I arrived in Spain at two in the afternoon. I’d only slept three hours on the flight because I believe in getting my body adjusted to the new zone as soon as possible. Madrid