Tag: travel

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The Hidden Spiritual Gem of Catalonia

Catedral de Manresa

What’s so special about Manresa, an industrial city in central Catalonia, Spain? Why should I go there? Little did I know that, on that morning, as I resisted getting on the bus that would take me there, I was about to change my entire perception about faith.

At first glance, it seemed that apart from the famous Santa Maria de la Seu Basilica and St. Ignacio de Loyola’s cave, there was little else to see in Manresa. My mind kept telling me that it wasn’t worth the visit. Staying a few more days in Montserrat to explore it more deeply felt like a better option. But despite the noise in my head, something unexplainable kept pushing me there.

Upon arriving, I was greeted by cloudy and uncomfortably hot weather. It didn’t help with my grumpiness. I went up and down the street but couldn’t find the restaurant that had promised me the best vegetarian paella. Then I decided to look up instead of down, and there it was: on the first floor of a building, the door opened to a beautiful white dining room. When the paella arrived, accompanied by the welcoming smile of the chef, I realized I was putting too much effort into maintaining my bad mood. Everything was delicious and done with so much dedication. Even if it was only to honor the Chef’s work, I needed to surrender to what was and summon a more relaxed state of mind.

And there it was, my first wise decision of the day: to change my mood. As is often the case, reality started to change accordingly. From then on, I started to realise that Manresa was probably the right place to be at that exact moment of my life. I just needed to be willing to give it a chance. Why?

Enter Jordi Piñero, a historian and investigator whose work is focused on the holistic aspects of Manresa’s historical monuments. He invited me to visit the Cathedral as he started explaining how it was carefully built in a very special place: a strong telluric current – a geomagnetic movement generated by Earth’s magnetic field, flowing parallel to its surface. Or, from another perspective, an energy field with the power to influence our well-being. My skeptical brain looked at a gothic Catholic church from the 16th century and wondered if this was not just a coincidence. Back in those days, people didn’t have our knowledge and surely they didn’t have the proper modern scientific gadgets to measure all these currents and geomagnetic movements.

There was more inside. As I followed him in, Jordi explained that the cross-shaped structure of the building represents a human figure with open arms. Along its centre line, it is possible to observe seven circles. “The 7 chakras,” Jordi said. I asked him how did our ancestors know? How did such a conservative institution as the Catholic church allow it? He just shrugged and explained that chakras have many names. “They represent human potential for spiritual evolution. It is a universal concept.”

The theory “everything is connected” makes perfect sense here. It now seems obvious to find the relationship between concepts of different religions and beliefs in one single monument built more than five centuries ago. I could have stayed there all afternoon listening to Jordi. My long quest to understand faith, the divine, and the meaning of human life was anxious to learn more. But there was more waiting for me, although I wasn’t aware of it yet.

I walked to the Cave of Saint Ignatius, a pilgrimage site where it is said that the Saint spent several months meditating and writing his famous Spiritual Exercises book. St Ignatius arrived there after a long walk of 2000 km from Loyola in the Basque Country, determined to discover, understand, and consolidate his connection with Jesus.

A Jesuit priest opened the cave door and invited me in. The priest briefly narrated the Saint’s life story, ending with a summary of Loyola’s spiritual findings: “To discover the light, one needs to conquer the ego. In order to conquer the ego, one has to surrender.” Surrendering has always been a challenge for me, a control freak. Just the sound of the word made my body retract. But a little tingle in the tip of my fingers awoke a kind of familiar yet new pleasant sensation.

As if he knew what was going on inside of me, from this moment the priest changed his speech from a simple Catholic point of view to the same holistic and integrative theories shared by Jordi earlier in the Cathedral. My host kept explaining that apart from whatever our beliefs are, during the course of our lives, between our 40s and 50s we start experiencing an urge to question, to explore, to transform (check!, I’m exactly there). We can embrace it and become explorers of our inner selves or ignore it and move on to the next phase of our lives. The Jesuits – inspired by Saint Ignatius’ experience – believe that we all should dive deep into this transformational opportunity, offering their expertise to guide anyone who feels the call to embrace the process. “That is the purpose of this Center,” he told me as the elevator door opened to the top floor.

There, he invited me into a large beautiful wooden room with a skylight in the middle illuminating an empty bowl resting directly below it. “We don’t care if you are a Buddhist or a Muslim or a non-believer. As long as you enter this meditation room with your inner bowl empty, if you silence your ego, if you surrender, you can experience the light filling your space. This is what Saint Ignatius realized on the 24th of March 1522, the day he became enlightened.” The moment the priest mentioned the date, the tingling sensation exploded through my whole body.

Throughout the day, I had been learning all these theories as if they were answers to my inner doubts about faith and religion. I was starting to understand that maybe we don’t need this or that symbolism to ignite our spirituality. It was becoming clear that it is not Christianity or Hinduism or Islam or New Age theories that hold the ultimate truth to transcendence. I was realizing that as long as I was determined to follow the path of self-discovery, I could become a better human being. By doing that, I would be fulfilling my share of the greater good of humankind.

As these thoughts were running through my mind, the priest mentioned that special date. A date so familiar and so important to me. It was as if that little detail had the power to hook all that I had heard so far and anchor it deep inside myself. On the same day, March 24th, but 450 years apart, I was born. Saint Ignatius solved the mystery of existence on the same day I arrived in this world, 5 centuries after.

At any other moment, I would only find it a funny coincidence and move on. But this day had become so full of revelations and epiphanies that I decided to accept it as a sign.

So, I – a skeptic, a woman of poor faith, an explorer of mysticism always looking for its flaws – I surrendered. I surrendered to that day and all it had offered me, I surrendered to my stubbornness and bad mood, I even momentarily surrendered to my ego.

What’s so special about Manresa? Now I know: It is the place where after so many years scattered, wandering around, I made peace with my faith. My God, what a long way I have ahead of me now!

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Minimalism in Motion: How the Camino de Santiago Changed My Perspective

Fill your bowl to the brim
and it will spill.

Lao Tzu, Tao Te King

Have you ever planned a trip secretly hoping it would change your life?

This is a feeling I’ve experienced several times. However, it wasn’t what motivated me when I started planning my first adventure on the Camino de Santiago. Today I’m revisiting this past journey as I prepare to embark on my second Camino walk.

At that time, I felt I had already transformed my life too many times. My motivation for the Camino was simply a close connection with nature, an appreciation of silence, and the discovery of my physical limits. With a quite uncomfortable cervical injury, I knew I would have to balance the weight, walking time, and quality of rest very carefully. All of this with my expenses tightly controlled.

I began studying the backpack and what to put inside it a week before. What would I really need? A book! To entertain me on a 10-hour bus journey, and at dead times from mid-afternoon onwards. Also I had planned a few days of rest at the end and a book is always a good company. Furthermore, I never travel without books! This time, I was willing to take just one. A notebook and a pen, exactly for the same reasons as the previous item. The camera, of course. Water and some emergency food. Personal hygiene products including shampoo, shower gel, moisturizer, toothbrush and toothpaste, sunscreen, hand cream, and hairbrush.

Even without giving a thought to the clothes yet, the backpack was already overflowing and considerably heavy, in its modest capacity of 20 liters. I realized that, even though there was still a week left, my journey had already begun. Maybe I needed to make myself a little more curious and humble about what the Camino could teach me.

Firstly I needed to rethink my choices: the book was heavy and took up space. Out! I replaced the notebook with a small notepad that fit in my pants pocket. The camera meant carrying the battery charger. It was nonsense, I had my phone’s camera. The water bottle stayed, as well as little packs of dried fruits for emergencies.

When I reached the toiletry bag, I felt ridiculous. Shampoo and shower gel? Face and hand creams? The bag returned to the backpack with just a small bar of solid shampoo, sunscreen, a comb, the toothbrush, and toothpaste.

Fortunately when it was time to make decisions for clothes, I had already developed some knowledge and it ended up being faster: 2 t-shirts, 2 pairs of underwear, 2 pairs of socks, 1 pair of shorts, a light dress (you never know!), a swimsuit, a small towel, and a pair of flip-flops to air my feet at the end of each day.

Among the many unexpected lessons that awaited me, lightening the load of my baggage was the first that transformed the way I travel to this day. Now, taking the first steps in preparing for a new journey to Santiago, I recover this wisdom I brought with me from the first one. Especially because, after these years, in addition to a sensitive cervical spine, I also gained a titanium femur head and gluten intolerance.

If, like me, you want to avoid unnecessary weight in your luggage, here are four reflections that I always delve into when it’s time to start packing:

1. Plan in advance: Packing last minute is not a good idea. We loose discernment and end up carrying too much stuff, driven by the anxiety of haste. I remember once, still working in the tv industry, I was told I had to be in Los Angeles for a meeting in two days. Along with the excitement of going to this great city, came the stress of not knowing what to expect in terms of weather and not having much time to reflect on versatile outfit combinations. When the check-in moment arrived at the airport with a suitcase bursting at the seams with clothes (half of which I didn’t wear) I realized I had forgotten the essentials: – the passport! Nowadays, I start by making a list of items to take. Then I divide them into indispensable, essential, and dispensable. I then select as I evaluate the weight I am willing to carry with me. Regarding clothing, I choose versatile outfits that I can combine with each other, reducing the number of pieces.

2. Choose the right equipment: I planned to visit my brother in Norfolk the time he was living there. It was winter and I knew I would find snow and extremely cold weather. I looked at the biggest suitcase I had in the closet and threw in all the warm sweaters, wool socks, coats, scarves, and hats I had found. As soon as I started descending the stairs of my house, on the way to the airport, I realized I had made a mistake. The suitcase was good quality but it was also huge and I took advantage of all the space it provided me. The wheels barely slid and I had to pull it with both hands to bring it with me. Arriving in the UK – a country that is not famous for easy accessibility in its public transport network – going up and down metro and train stairs was a very sweaty adventure. At a certain moment, a helpful English gentleman, seeing me desperate trying to climb an endless flight of stairs, offered to help me. He regretted it as soon as he picked up that giant monster and felt its weight. But he didn’t show any weakness. He reached the top of the stairs pale and sweaty. I bet he never offered to help “damsels in distress” again. Nowadays, I prefer backpacks with good back protections, small and sturdy trolleys with an effective sliding wheel system. I know that, by limiting the size of my luggage, I will necessarily have to limit the choices of what I put inside.

3. Use luggage organizers: I learned to use them on a road trip through southern Europe. Always on the move, packing and unpacking the suitcase was a daily task. By the third day, I had exactly the same number of pieces but, with chaos installed, I could no longer fit them all inside the bag. That’s when my travel companion introduced me to the organizers. Although they may seem redundant at first, after this experience I guarantee they are not. Luggage organizers help maximize space and keep things tidy during the trip. I separate the objects by categories and use individual bags for each of them.

4. Enjoy the simple things: When you walk 100 km, having to carry everything you need to survive, gives you a new perspective about the weight and value of each object you decide to bring. The experience of carrying only the essential made me reconsider what really matters. Simplification became a choice, not only for trips, but for my everyday life. Since then, I try to adopt a more conscious approach to everything I own, opting for quality over quantity and valuing each object for its purpose and meaning. This change in mindset not only relieved the physical weight of my travels, but also brought a new meaning to my concept of freedom. Walking – and living day by day – without unnecessary weight on my back, allows me to be fully present in the moment. After all, the richness of life is not in the amount of luggage I carry or in what I possess but in the experiences I keep in my backpack along the journey of life.

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Domitília Carvalho: Paving the Way

At the beginning of January, I was in Coimbra, a city I had yet to explore. A visit to the University of Coimbra was inevitable, despite my somewhat tumultuous relationship with higher education. I’m glad I did because during that visit, I became acquainted with Domitília Miranda de Carvalho, a woman whose journey profoundly impacted me and made me reflect on my own rebelliousness towards academic learning.

Domitília’s story began in the 19th century when she embarked on an unprecedented adventure and, against all social norms of the time, decided she wanted to attend the University of Coimbra. Of course, it wasn’t easy when access to knowledge and higher education was exclusively a male privilege.

After completing secondary school with distinction, Domitília wrote a letter to the university rector, a man with very conservative values. In the letter, the young woman invoked the reasons why she should be allowed to take her place alongside her male peers. She did so persuasively that, with no arguments to counter, the rector was forced to accept Domitília. However, there were some strict rules she had to abide by. Among them, she always had to dress soberly in black, wear a discreet hat, and under no circumstances was she allowed to behave in a way that would make her stand out among her male classmates. Knowing that sometimes compromises must be made to pursue a dream, Domitília agreed. She enrolled at the University of Coimbra in October 1891 and, for five years, she was the only female student in Portuguese higher education. Furthermore, knowing that she would have to work twice as hard as her male counterparts to prove her merit, Domitília didn’t just enroll in one course but in two: Mathematics and Philosophy. Moreover, after completing both degrees, she enrolled again, this time in Medicine, which she also completed with distinction.

Upon arriving in Lisbon to work as a doctor at the National Tuberculosis Assistance, she realized that her true calling was in education. Honoring her rebellious side, she became a teacher at D. Maria Pia High School (now Maria Amália Vaz de Carvalho High School), the first secondary education institution established in Portugal for women. She held the position of Mathematics teacher. Once again, she became the first Portuguese woman to teach that subject.

Domitília was a rebellious woman but never lost her conservative side. She was a monarchist and followed the political-ideological principles of the Estado Novo, supporting Salazarism from its inception. I want to believe that this was one of the choices she made, aware that it would be a way to help women gain space in a world where, until then, only men could access. In this capacity, she accepted to be one of the three women invited by the National Union to join the single list of candidates for deputies in the I Legislature of the newly created National Assembly of the Estado Novo.

Nevertheless, Domitília’s conservative views did not prevent her from promoting and signing a petition in favor of the legalization of divorce in 1909. It is this versatility that leads me to believe that, despite being a supporter of a dictatorship, perhaps that was the means that allowed her to leave to all of us, Portuguese women who came after her, the legacy of equal access to opportunities in all areas of society.

I am far from being an advocate of the principle that the end justifies the means. In Domitília’s case, the concessions she made – even the seemingly more extreme ones – allowed her to set precedents and break senseless rules regarding women’s rights in Portugal. I have two higher degrees and a postgraduate degree because, in the late 19th century, Domitília didn’t accept a no as an answer to access the University of Coimbra. So, I am grateful to her. Just as I am to all the women who came before me and paved the way for the possibility of me having access to what I have today. Aware that the world is still not equal for everyone, I hope without any modesty that, in my capacity as a female entrepreneur who travels alone to any part of the world, I too leave marked trails that allow for improving the condition of those who come after me.

Accommodation Suggestions:

Hotel Astória: I stayed here about 5 years ago when I had to attend a work meeting in Coimbra. I loved the location, but above all, the charm of this historic hotel. Passing through the door is like stepping directly into the early 20th century, a time period for which I am fascinated. It has one of the most beautiful elevators I’ve ever seen.

JR Studios & Suites: This is where I stayed in January, right next to the Convent of São Francisco and in front of the Convent of Santa Clara a Velha. The rooms are spacious, with modern, elegant decor in minimalist style. The balconies offer stunning views of the city.

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What do Selfies have to do with sustainable tourism?

In a world flooded by the selfie craze, there’s an underlying narrative that permeates the superficial charm of perfect Instagram shots. This relentless pursuit of the ideal photograph often obscures the true essence of an authentic travel experience.

A recent observation at the Musee d’Orsay, beyond the displayed artworks, served as a catalyst for this reflection. While I stood in front of the Impressionist paintings I admire, feeling privileged to be there, other tourists rushed from room to room, eager to capture each painting with their smartphones. My stillness and more contemplative attitude resulted in a few bumps and shoves from these hurried visitors. I was left with the feeling that, in the rush to cover all the rooms and capture as many images as possible, the opportunity to appreciate the art in front of us was somehow lost.

The situation reminded me of the story of Karthika Gupta, a photographer and writer, who witnessed her son being knocked to the ground by a group of tourists in Yellowstone Park, USA, all eager to capture the perfect selfie with bisons in the background.

The selfie Phenomenon

The selfie culture is not just a trend; it’s a phenomenon that can turn incredible locations into scenes of frenzied racing. The fear of missing out or FOMO, and the constant need to document every second on social media have a direct relationship with the current consequences of tourist overcrowding.

The pursuit of the perfect image can compromise the essence of the travel experience. For me, it’s not easy to think of visiting a destination without taking the time to breathe, feel, connect with its land, sounds, silences, colors, and engage with those who know the places I pass through best: its inhabitants.

In response to this mass tourism phenomenon, some destinations are implementing restrictive measures in an attempt to control overcrowding and preserve the authenticity of the location. New Zealand, for example, has adopted measures to discourage photos at tourist spots, and the city of Hallstatt in Austria erected a wall to block the view of the Alps in protest against noise pollution and excessive selfies. In Vermont, USA, influencers were discouraged from visiting during the popular fall foliage season. All these measures could be a good starting point for reflection on the need to balance tourism promotion with the preservation of the authenticity and tranquility of each destination.

My experience at the Musee d’Orsay reminded me of the importance of savoring each moment, especially in front of artworks that endure through the centuries and tell the story of humanity’s capacity to produce beauty. It’s a pity if we allow the race for selfies to prevent us from feeling the magic of a painting, getting lost in the brushstrokes that tell stories, or experiencing the wonder of genuinely connecting with our fellow human beings.

As an advocate for sustainable tourism, I see this as a call for a more conscious approach to travel. How wonderful it is to slow down, appreciate each moment, and respect the destinations we visit. Enlightening travelers about the importance of experiencing rather than just capturing is crucial for preserving the authenticity of travel experiences.

Our craving for perfect images should not extinguish the true beauty and meaning of each place we explore. Traveling with a deeper purpose, allowing space for contemplation, connection, and a genuine appreciation of the cultural richness the world has to offer is a much richer experience than the quest for the ideal image to share on social media.