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St. Jean Pied-de-Port → Roncesvalles 27.3 km (17.0 mi) |
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Bonjour à tous!
Today marks the start of the Camino! I was so excited that I bounced right out of bed, just as Janine exploded into the albergue in a frenzy of laying out baguettes and jam and taking hot drink orders! A few pieces of toast and hot chocolate isn’t what I’m used to eating for breakfast, especially before a hike, but I decided I would find something else in the next village, considering it was Sunday and all of the supermarchés were closed.
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I stepped out of the albergue to greet the most spectacular sunrise, just the right sight to get me ready and energized for the coming day! The clouds ahead looked a little ominous, but I wasn’t worried. As a beaver, my fur keeps me dry, so as long as I didn’t get lost, I figured I would be just fine. George once told me to think of clouds as giant beavers in the sky that occasionally have to shake off the water… and hurl down giant lightning bolts of death! I was suddenly really glad to be taking the road route through Valcarlos.
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Once the colors faded, I turned to face the Porte Saint-Jacques, the traditional starting place for many peregrinos. Jacques is the French name for a saint with many names, all dating back to the Greek Iacobos. From Iacobos, we get “Jacob,” “Jakue,” “Jacques,” and “Iago,” which became “Tiago” and “Diego” in the western parts of Iberia. The name became “Giacomo” in Italy, “Jaime” in eastern Spain, and “James” in England. Since I’m going to western Iberia, I’m going to see Saint Tiago, or Santiago!
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Speaking of which, the time had come to get moving! Checking the town map from the Accueil, I recognized the place where the routes split, having passed it while exploring last night, so I folded up my map and took off down the street, through the Porte Notre Dame and across the River Nive, which was bubbling with trout! I arrived at the spot on the map, and, sure enough, I saw my first flechas amarillas (yellow arrows) guiding me onto the Camino! I followed the flechas up the surprisingly steep path through farmland, greeting other walkers along the way and asking, just to make sure, if this was the way to Valcarlos. They all said “Oui!”
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I realized something was amiss 10K later when I reached Huntto. That’s because I researched Huntto last week to get a feel for the weather in the Pyrénées. It was just below Orisson, where the path was closed due to snow. Oh dear! According to my map, I had two options: turn back or seek out an obscure path winding all the way back down toward the border at Arneguy. I hate turning back, so I pressed on as the wind picked up and the clouds darkened. By the time I reached the orientation table at Orisson, I was stuck halfway up the Pyrénées with no clue how to find this path to Arneguy.
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That’s when the next miracle of the Camino occurred. As I started to turn back, six French ladies appeared, pumping their walking poles, with snacks and enthusiasm to spare! My French n’est pas fantastique, but I asked them if they knew how to get to Valcarlos. They did not, but I was welcome to accompany them on a short jaunt over the Route Napoleon to Roncesvalles. Well, if they knew what they were doing, then d’accord! That’s when the sky opened up, a relief for the burning hills, but a terror when passing the cross dedicated to all the people who have died attempting the Route Napoleon!
The rain and the speed of my companions made it difficult to take out my camera for pictures, but apart from that, it became friendly, beating a constant rhythm on my hat and encouraging us onward and upward. That was much needed, as two of the ladies had turned back out of concern for their safety. Lines of snow appeared on the side of the road, and still we pressed on, up to the Virgen de Orisson, which was one of the most eerily beautiful statues I’d ever seen, perched atop a rocky crag above the gloom. Even though I don’t have a photo here, it’s still worth looking for her elsewhere.
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The four remaining French ladies moved with great speed, and as I hustled to keep up, we climbed higher and higher until the path disappeared under snow and forced us to follow the footprints of peregrinos past. The vultures had begun to circle, not above, but below. After passing the first shelter, a stone hut with a single newspaper inside, we took some high steps through a heavily wooded area with deep snow drifts and happened upon the first distance marker to Santiago, right next to the Fountain of Roland: 765K. Is that all?
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Right after the marker, I think we crossed the border into Spain. It was hard to tell because the rain picked up again and since my plans to get more breakfast in the next town had not come to fruition, I was pretty darn hungry. As if by magic, we stopped in the Refuge of Izandorre, and my traveling companions generously shared their lunch with me (“Mangez! Mangez!”). I was startled by how much my feet hurt already, and I hoped I hadn’t overdone it on the first day. Isn’t it said that you have to start like an old man to finish like a young man, er, beaver?
It wasn’t easy standing up again, but the thought of a nice, warm albergue fueled me onward. We tramped uphill through the snows of Col de Lepoeder for about an hour until suddenly, the trail sloped downhill. The clouds broke, and the sun lit up Roncesvalles below. Thanks to the help of these lovely ladies, this conquest of the Route Napoleon was a success! We’d been much more successful than the legendary Roland, who was ambushed here by indignant Basque soldiers in 778 AD and had to smash his sword on the huge boulder we passed at the end of our descent. In the ghostly gray, I could almost hear the clatter!
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We struck pavement shortly after the Rock of Roland (Roldán en español) and cruised the rest of the way into Roncesvalles. I bid “Bon Voyage” to my traveling companions, and they gave me a kiss on both cheeks! I love the French! Then, it was time to check into the albergue, housed in a monastery, where it was warm, dry, and protected from the new deluge that dumped down shortly thereafter! Based on today’s 25K trek, with its many surprises, I can already see that the rest of this Camino will be jam-packed with surprises and little miracles. Who knows? It may completely reshape my entire worldview! First, though, it’s time to investigate the menú peregrino!
Buen Camino!
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Total Distance Walked: 27.3 km (17.0 mi) |
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