We decide, last minute, to on-send some gear to Borda, our stop this afternoon. ‘Yes, yes’, says the man from Bouricot (Donkey), ‘but the van is going now’. So Jeff sprints down the steep cobbled street to our abode and (needless to say) back up, with the bag, and the van takes off down the hill, stopping intermittently at hostel doorways to throw more bags onto the front seat pile.
Damn rushed decisions. ‘Wait!’ we think, what about the rain gear, we might need that….what about gloves and hat, it might get cold? So as donkey man dives into each new hostel and loads up his van, we’re jogging behind and pulling our bag out his windows to recover each new missing essential!
Not the leisurely start we’d imagined but we got there in the end. Bacon, eggs and coffee settled us down and by 10am we were off. 9km and about 650m rise, perfect day, patches of blue with some cloud to keep us cool.
From Saint John Pied de Port it rises steeply and within 15 minutes we’d stripped down from cool morning woollens and puffers to T-shirts.
It’s a glorious, if somewhat energetic climb up into the Pyrenees. Mostly sheep and cattle farms and some horses interspersed with copses of vibrant green forest. Eagles ride the thermals up out of the valleys into the heights and as we gain altitude, the larger more rugged peaks of the Pyrenees reveal themselves beyond the rolling fields.
We bump into some Americans as we walk. I dont like to stereotype but they seem to have in incessant desire to know if it’s your first Camino as a lead in to ensuring you understand it’s their 3rd or 5th or whatever. Apparently it’s a competition or some kind of status symbol. Invariably this is followed up with, ‘oh, you wait till the 400 metres past that ridge, its really steep’ (and other similarly helpful variants). One bloke said, ‘…by day three most people are really suffering’ and then softened it somewhat with ‘oh, but at the pace you’re going, that probably won’t be a problem”! Useful.
We also heard people nattering about how hard it was to get into Borda, and how there was a, one only, very special private room with a view and a fire place….’who’s got that’, they wandered, and, ‘I tried to get into that on my 5th Camino but couldn’t, it’s suppost to be devine!’
We can tell you it is! Di had waited by the internet for the clock to strike 12:01am on the 15th of December and jagged a spot (there’s only 20 beds). ‘There’s actually a room for two, separate to the dorms if Madam is interested?’ Says Michel….and the rest is history.
We arrive around 2:30pm and enjoy the brilliant blue sky and cool mountain air (and a wine or two) with: Paul the retired airline pilot looking to reflect on where humanity’s currently at, Jamie the singer, performer and poet who’s recovering from her recent intense European band tour and subsequent band break up (she’s studdying to be intimacy coordinator) , Lisa and William resetting after retirement and doing a part tongue-in-cheek part heart felt USA apology tour. Anitra, a 5th timer from Northern rivers (ok Australians boasts too) bringing along Paddy from somewhere beyond lismore…….an eclectic bunch to say the least.
Our host, Michel, not the boss he assures us, is warm and witty, comical almost, with an animated face that dances to the tones of his deep melodic Basque voice. We shower, wash clothes, relax and swap lies till dinner; vegetable soup, potatoes bake, pork bolognaise and lots of red wine. Delicious!
I’m off to bed, 19km tomorrow and another 600m! Woohoo!
Fabulous beginning and perfect weather. The Camino crowd you’ve met seem a bit boastful.
I like the idea of driving your bags ahead.
Buen Camino.
Yeh, there’s been a bit of that, but it seems to be settling down. Yes, the bag things a great idea, I thing we’ll lean on that a bit going forward.