Camino Day 1: St Jean - Roncesvalles (09/09/14)

I awoke many times during the night, not only due to the earth-shaking turns of the bunk inhabitant above me, but also due to the excitement of being eager to set off on our walk and nervousness as to how I would find the walk over the Pyrenees. Day 1 was to involve a 25.1km (15.6 mile) hike over the mountains, but when adjusted for an accrued ascent of 1,390m, it would be the equivalent of walking 32km.

A last look at St. Jean in the morning mist

By way of explanation I should explain that when walking the Camino it is normal to get up early around 6- 6:30am (some eager souls get up much earlier!) and set off about 7:00am. This allows you to complete a 6-7 hour walk and still be done by early afternoon, thus avoiding the worst of the mid-afternoon heat. Since the day's walk was going to about the longest of our trip, I was therefore up at 6.00, had a quick wash and then made my way down to the dining room where a basic breakfast was available of cold coffee or chocolate (which could be heated in a microwave) and slices of a French stick with butter and very runny jam, which I got everywhere. I got into conversation with two Irish guys in their early thirties, Brendan and his friend who were from Co. Wicklow. There was an air in the room of "well this is it!" quiet resolution. After Ben and Matt finally appeared for breakfast we gathered below the stairs and I was able to show the Barcelona woman that contrary to dire predictions, a second glass of red wine had not killed me!


We left the Albergue at 7.15; it was barely light and the River Nive was wreathed in an atmospheric mist. We could have turned left and up the street through the Porte D'Espagna, but I wanted to take the circular 1km detour route along the river, so we turned right in front of the Porte Notre Dame and made our way over the Roman Pont Eyerabarri bridge and round the outside of the city walls before rejoining the main route. The route then splits - right to the lower Valcarlos route, which has a lower accrued ascent of 990m and left to the route we were taking, uphill to the Route de Napoleon et du Marischal Harispe. This route has very ancient origins and goes back as far as Roman times when it was part of the Via Triana and linked Bordeaux with Astorga. Napoleon also used it to invade Spain - hence it's modern name.

Ben & I walking the Route de Napoleon

The climb to Orisson involved ascending about 900m in 8km and I found the climb quickly became punishing. Matt and Ben seemed to find it even harder and I found myself walking alone after an initial period of starting out together. The tough climb was compensated with stunning views; we had by now climbed above the morning mist and above the cloud the day was sunny and we looked down on a sea of mist interspersed with hilltop "islands" peeking up above the cloud. We were also reminded by signs in English that whether we were in the modern states of France or Spain, we were in fact in the Basque Country.

Ben felt sufficiently patriotic to produce an Albanian flag and tied it to the outside of his rucksack in celebration!

I arrived at the Albergue / restaurant at Orisson with some relief, as I needed a rest, a good 20 minutes ahead of Ben and Matt and found Brendan and his mate downing beer on a outside area of decking with tables and chairs. I was able to refill my water bladder as I had already drank about 1.5 litres of water and tried a glass of glorious cloudy Basque cider - fruity apple-ly heaven and then followed this with coffee and a slice of Basque Cake and the essential sello in the Credencial.

We journeyed on continuing our ascent through wide and expansive scenery that greatly impressed me; I was already falling in love with the Camino! We fell into conversation with some Canadian women. Ben taught some of them to call me djall i keq (bad boy) in Albanian and I had a discussion with another about the forthcoming Scottish independence referendum and I was surprised when she said that she already thought Scotland was a separate country and not part of the United Kingdom! Leaving them when they stopped for lunch, we saw numerous Griffon Vultures and other raptors soaring on thermals at Pic D'Orisson (1,100m). With a wingspan of 2.5m the vultures were very impressive and according to John Brierley there are 1,800 pairs in the region - the greatest concentration in the world.



 At Thibault below Pic de Leizar, we found a mobile trailer selling coffee and food and providing the last sello in France (essential!!), so we stopped for lunch and reclining on the grass in a surprisingly hot sun for such an elevation, we ate our packed lunch and looked across the valley at Basque farmsteads. Near the trailer was a modern cross where other pilgrims had scratched the names of people they were praying for on stones and thrown them at the foot of the cross.

Thibault

Ben & Horses at Thibault

It was after Thibault that Ben began to need prayer and develop a pained look on his face! Several hours of walking in the infamous luminous orange and blue trainers were starting to catch up with him as the elasticated fastenings did not restrain his feet from sliding forward inside the shoes, which meant that his toes were repeatedly being rammed forward and his toenails bashed on the uppers. Slowly the exclamations and wails from Ben began to increase with every step "Ooooff! Aarrgggh! Ooooh dear! This is the worst thing I have ever done!" Etc! The Albanian flag disappeared!

Fountain of Roland - note Trainers of Doom!



We reached the Fountain of Roland (more on Roland in a while) and soon crossed the Spanish border were laminated signs in English informed us that the Government of the Province of Navarre was refusing to allow children's TV programmes in the Basque language. Ben hobbled along with us (vocally) to the summit at Col de Lepoeder (1,450) and looked ready to punch a German walking in the opposite direction who cheerfully asserted "not very far!"

Spanish Border: France left, Spain / Navarre right, Basque Country both sides!

After the summit the path plunges steeply downhill through the beech woods of bosque de Irati considered to be one of the largest surviving native beech forests in Europe. We left Ben to limp downhill behind us and Matt and I went on through the forest, the floor almost a rich purple with beech leaves and speckled with wonderful Autumn crocuses illuminated in the sunshine. The descent was very punishing on my knees and as I walked, I mused that walking the Camino teaches you things and I realised that my first lesson was that during the day's hard ascents, I had "withdrawn" into myself to conserve energy and that yet the descents were just as hard, if not more so - surely a metaphor for life; that coming down from some life event can be as hard as climbing up to it in the first place as I had been discovering from the recent death of my Dad.

bosque de Irati

Autumn crocus

And so were reached Roncesvalles after 8 hours and 10 minutes and Ben came in a creditable 20 minutes behind us. Checking into the Albergue run by the Collegiate Church, we were met by a friendly Hospitalero who instructed us where to leave our boots and packs. I particularly liked his description of the room where the boots were kept as The Aroma Room! This Albergue was in a large 17th Century(?) building which although traditional outside, had three floors with rows of modern cubicles with four bunks in each cubicle (we shared ours with a Hungarian guy) made from light wood which gave an Ikea feel.

Roncesvalles



After a welcome shower, I hand-washed my clothes in the Albergue laundry and then took the chance to explore Roncesvalles which is a settlement made up mainly of ecclesiastical buildings; The Royal Collegiate Church of Saint Mary (consecrated in 1219), the13th Century Chapel of St James and the 12th Century Chapel of the Holy Spirit, along with a hotel and a bar.

Albergue on right

Roncesvalles is famous for the semi-legendary battle of Roncesvalles. At one stage Charlemagne and his nephew Roland, invaded Spain to attack the Moors but on their way home Charlemagne damaged the walls of Pamplona, even though he had promised not to. As Charlemagne was retreating back to France, an assorted Basque and Aragonese army suddenly attacked the rear of Charlemagne's forces in revenge and Roland was killed despite sounding his horn Oliphant. This story became incredibly famous in Medieval times through the epic song the Chanson de Roland and the story collected magical myths and legends around it.

L-R Chapel of St James & Chapel of The Holy Spirit



I enjoyed visiting the Collegiate Church and sitting awhile in the atmospheric crypt, but I had meant the visit the tomb of the king of Navarre Sancho VII The Strong but I misunderstood where it was located and by the time I realised, it was closed, so I had a beer with some South Africans and a Canadian from Ottawa instead.


Interior of the Collegiate Church

In the evening we had a "Pilgrim Meal" in the local hotel and were joined by another Canadian lady. I had heard about these meals and expected them to be basic, but it turned out to be a three course affair with salad, soup or pasta as a starter, trout or duck as the main with a glass of red wine and cheesecake for dessert; all for €9.00!! You wouldn't get that value in Cork!

I finished the evening by observing the Pilgrim Mass in the Collegiate Church and there was an atmospheric pilgrim blessing when the pilgrims came forward to the altar and the lights were dimmed.

Pilgrim Blessing

The comfortable beds in the Albergue promised a good night's sleep without earthquakes!