Tired from a long day on the road, we pulled into the KOA in Kerrville, Texas—just looking for a place to crash. What we found was bone-dry ground that laughed in the face of tent pegs and had us wondering how we'd ever sleep. But laughter led to luck, and a kind-hearted upgrade to a simple wooden cabin turned our dusty misadventure into one of the most memorable overnights of our journey. That evening, we dined high above the Guadalupe River, watching the sun dip low over the cliffs—blissfully unaware that the same river would be making headlines for very different reasons 13 years later.

Three years after our Camino dreams were first postponed, we finally arrived in Sarria—backpacks packed, boots laced, and hearts open. This was more than just the start of a walk. It was the beginning of something we'd held onto through lockdowns and longing.