Day 1 – St. Jean Pied-de-Port to Roncesvalles

It was with a dizzying combination of exhaustion and elation that I stumbled into the albergue (pilgrim’s hostel) in Roncesvalles.

Today’s walk has been unbelievable. I climbed a mountain! I’m now in Spain! I crossed the Pyrenees!

I headed out this morning nervous about what the day would hold. The walk from St. Jean Pied-de-Port is 25 kilometers (32 kilometers when adjusted for the incline) and crosses the French Pyrenees into Spain. It is said to be the hardest day’s walk of the Camino de Santiago, and to be quite honest, I wasn’t sure I had it in me. My guidebook calls the Pyrenees the “baptism of fire” that pilgrim’s must go through. A non-fiction novel about the Camino that I read on the plane called “What the Psychic Told the Pilgrim” by Jane Christmas, describes the incline by writing “I could not fathom how a road at such an incline could be paved, much less driven up.”

This morning I packed my bag in St. Jean Pied-de-Port and found that my backpack had mysteriously gained about 30lbs. It was 20lbs when I weighed it at the airport, but I was certain it had to be at least 50lbs. Perhaps this was an exaggeration, but it was certainly heavier. I had added the belongings in my carry on, the lunch, and a now full water bottle. Ten minutes down the road in St. Jean Pied-de-Port I was certain I would not last an hour.

But, as with most things in life, I kept moving. One foot in front of the other.

By the edge of town I had met a kind woman from South Africa named Shirley. She asked if she could walk with me, and the two of us stuck through the entire trek together. Shirley is walking the Camino as a 60th birthday gift to herself. I could not have asked for a better walking partner. Her optimism and enthusiasm were contagious as we both worked so incredibly hard. I cannot speak for her, but that was the hardest I have worked in my life. Shirley would stop to point out the colour of the beetles, the size of the slugs, and the types of moss on the trees. Not all pilgrims walking the Camino today were even half as positive. Shirley tried to speak with one woman, and the response was along the lines of “Sorry. Can’t talk now. Busy suffering.”

The 8-kilometer stretch to Orisson was the most difficult. The walk was quite steep, but it was nothing impossible. At one point we turned to admired the view of the canyon (the bottom of which we had started at) and we were awed by a number of Griffon Vultures soaring over the canyon. We counted at least 12. As I stood there, eyes wide, I did have the thought that if I were alone they might swoop me up and eat me for dinner, but I was too wowed to care.

Once we reached Orisson, we stopped for a snack break. I had expected Orisson to be a town, but really it was just a hostel on the side of a mountain – but it was a hostel with food! I had the most delicious ice-cream sundae before slugging my knapsack back on and continuing forward.

From Orisson to Roncesvalles the walk was steadily uphill, but required nowhere near the exertion that the first stretch needed. We walked through some of the most beautiful landscapes I’ve ever seen. At one point the path was covered with leaves that were soggy and had the consistency of mud as we trudged along. At another point we passed a mound of snow!

Our lunch break was at a scenic viewpoint overlooking a statue of a cross. I ate bread with Nutella – and it has never tasted so wonderful in my life.

It was at about the 20-kilometer mark that I really began to feel the day’s strain. My right leg would shake uncontrollably each time I would put weight on it. Still, there was nothing to do but to continue pressing forward toward Roncesvalles.

Just as we reached Roncesvalles, it began to rain. Cold, wonderful, glorious rain. It was by no means a hot day, but by this point I was sweaty and muddy, and the rain was the most refreshing thing ever.

I could barely move as I staggered toward the hostel. As soon as I put my bag down, I thought my legs were going to quit on me.

If hostels went by a star-rating, this hostel would have 5-stars. It is absolutely gorgeous. Shirley and I were assigned the third floor, which has single beds (no bunkbeds), each with little wooden dividers, offering a degree of privacy. The showers are private and the water is hot.

I spoke with a woman from Denmark in the hostel who is walking the Camino for the 5th time, and today was her 68th birthday.

My legs have never been so sore in my life. I enjoyed a nice shower and a wonderful 3-course meal (they served us soup, bread, chicken, potatoes, yogurt, and wine), and then attended the pilgrim’s mass, which was lovely though I didn’t understand a word of it.

Hopefully tomorrow my legs still work. It is a long walk again tomorrow and right now I can hardly stand.

Arrival – Edmonton to St. Jean Pied-de-Port

Tomorrow I begin walking the Camino de Santiago (The Way of Saint James) – a pilgrimage across Spain to Santiago, where it is said that the remains of Saint James are buried. Each year hundreds of thousands of people walk the Camino de Santiago – some for religious/spiritual reasons, but many others for personal reasons. I will be walking the Camino Frances (The French Way), which is the most popular route to Santiago. This route often begins in St. Jean Pied-de-Port, France, and then spans approximately 800 kilometers across northern Spain before reaching Santiago.

I don’t know if I could say why I decided to walk 800 kilometers across northern Spain. I heard about the Camino de Santiago through the movie “The Way“ and felt compelled to make the journey myself. I decided that I would walk the Camino de Santiago after completing my degree. At the time of planning my trip, I was unsure where life would take me after graduation, and it seemed like a fitting time to take a month to myself and walk across an entire country.

I still am not sure what exactly I have gotten myself into, but I have made it to France! The adventure is seeming surreal so far.

Getting to St. Jean Pied-de-Port was a journey all on its own. It involved a flight from Edmonton to Toronto, another from Toronto to Paris, a 7-hour layover in the Paris airport, a 4-hour train to Bordeaux, then a 1.5-hour train to Bayonne where I spent the night before catching a bus and finally arriving in St. Jean Pied-de-Port this morning.

As I repacked my bag in my hotel room in Bayonne this morning, I started questioning whether this pilgrimage of mine was a good idea. I was already tired and I hadn’t even begun any walking. I was enjoying the quiet of a hotel room, with a comfy bed and a shower. Sleep would have been a kind graduation gift to myself, but sure, let’s walk 800 kilometers! I begrudgingly hauled myself to the train station in Bayonne, and my excitement was renewed. The station was full of pilgrims – others walking the same route as myself. I spoke with a group of women from the States, a man and woman from Germany, and a couple from Calgary. All of us were approaching the start of the Camino de Santiago with some trepidation, but were excited to begin our journey.

Upon arriving in St. Jean Pied-de-Port I walked to the pilgrim office to receive my credential (my pilgrim’s passport which I will get stamped along the way) and a scallop shell to fasten to my backpack. The converging lines of the scallop shell represent the various paths people take to reach Santiago, and the shell serves as a route marker to keep pilgrims from getting lost. The man who presented me with my pilgrim’s passport spoke no English, and I speak no French, but luckily the woman behind me spoke both and was willing to translate. I was struck by how many languages were being spoken in the little pilgrim office. People have come from all around the world to walk the Camino de Santiago. The man beside me was reading instructions in Korean.

Once I had received my credential and scallop shell, I wandered through town for awhile, purchased a set of walking sticks, and then checked into my hotel to get some rest before my long day of walking tomorrow. Tomorrow’s walk over the Pyrenees from St. Jean Pied-de-Port to Roncesvalles is supposedly the hardest leg of the journey, and so I hope to be as rested as possible. It is raining today – a light drizzle which is expected to continue tomorrow – but nothing that would deter pilgrims from making the walk to Roncesvalles. The man at the pilgrim office recommended finding a walking partner, but was confident that the route was walkable.