St Jean Peid de Port to Roncesvalles (The first day of the Camino)

First, let's bounce back to the trip from Paris to St. Jean Pied de Port...it was an adventure.  The train, about 20 minutes from Bayonne, stopped.  An announcement told us that the train, travelling at 300 km/hr, had been in accident with a person.  We would be delayed by two hours.  It doesn't take much imagination to begin to wonder what the accident entailed, and the result for the person involved.  We seemed to be in a spot which was remote - questions abound.  Who was this person?  Why were they on the track?  In Edmonton there have been a number of incidents of Light Rail Transit hitting people wearing headphones...I doubt this would be the case.  However and whoever the accident occurred my thoughts are with those that needed to respond, the train staff, and obvious the family and friends and individual who was involved.  Our lateness arriving in Bayonne meant the taxi ride from hell getting to St Jean Pied de Port.  The driver was dispatching and driving for the first 15 minutes of the ride.  After the approximately 50 miles of travel I was ready to commit never to ride in a car again...And I think Edmonton drivers can be bad!  My eyes were closed, and my prayers became very personal for the 45 minutes or so that we rode in that taxi.  Still, I got an idea of what was ahead of us today -

See those hills, that is where we are headed.  After a lovely evening in Saint Jean Pied de Port we arose and left around 8:30 am this morning for Roncesvalles, Spain.  It was a 27 kilometer hike, mostly uphill.  We climbed a total of 1450 meters during the walk.  Sandy began to limp and fall behind (for the first time ever in our relationship, I felt better prepared...although in fairness to her it was an injury to her hip, or tendon, or something).

There is no disputing it was a challenging walk.  I was grateful for the stair climber at Kensington's World Health where I spent a number of afternoons climbing stairs this spring.  At times the hills reached 18 or 20 percent grade.  Adding to the grade was the wind.  At one point the gusts of wind helped push me up the hill.  I was glad I was not biking at those moments.  It was steep, it was beautiful.  The Pyranees surrounded us.  The mountains in the distance had snow on them.  The sheep in the fields had not yet been shorn.  They dotted the hillsides joined by cattle and horses.  The pathway was busy.  At one point I could count about 25 other pilgrims in the 400 meters or so ahead of us.

We made our way to the summit - about 21 kilometers of hiking, then began to descend...quickly.  Several hundred meters in 5 kilometers.  Anyone who hikes knows that going down can be considerably more challenging than the going up part of the journey.  We arrived at our hotel 7 hours after leaving St. Jean Pied de Port.

Lessons - it was good to be worried.  I'd feared this day of all the days of our trip.  I'd spent time on the stair climber in the gym, I'd walked Arnie to Beaumaris more frequently than before (Arnie was not going to complain).  It felt great to successfully climb the worst of the route not only with Sandy, but ahead of her (probably for the first, if not last time, of our relationship - the time I beat her in the Vancouver half marathon really doesn't count - even though it inspired her to put me in my place the following year in Ottawa)...Secondly, it was, despite the wind, a beautiful day.  We walked though  places that brought to mind the hymns, "Church in the Wildwood", and "On Eagle's Wings."  At the top of one of the steepest climbs of the day I stopped.  Within feet came a pair of golden eagles feet above the ground.  They were coming over a ridge of land.  As they hit the wind they soared up and away.  There was no chance to capture the image in a photo, but a joyful moment of appreciation for the wonder and beauty of creations.  Here are some of the pictures from today's walk.


Leaving Saint Jean Pied de Port



Sandi (ahead of me) - I liked the lone walker in juxtaposition to the lone tree)


Getting higher - looking back towards from where we've come


Only 765 kms left to go


Leaving France - security is tight...long line ups at the border


Spain, from the top of the Pyranees


Not all the walk was barren and windy


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