Camino francés - Page 2

Saint-Jean-Pied-de-Port - Roncesvalles (ca. 27 km)

St. Jean is beautifully located at the foot of the Pyrenees, the hostel was quickly found in the small town. The hospitaleros, an older man and a woman, were very nice and with my English I got along well. I received my first stamp in the Credencial and a scallop in exchange for a donation. The locality was warm and cozy, even free internet was available (luxury at the time 🙂). After check-in, I went for a walk, a beautiful citadel demanded first photos. Yes, the photos of my old camera are terrible, moreover, the memory was constantly full. But I wanted document nothing at the time, I was here to chill out. Returned from the warm-up, Gretel, a Belgian, was just unpacking.

She spoke fluent French and English. We agreed on the latter. She had started in Lourdes and had already been on the road for a week. Mostly she had stayed with private people, she was the type of person, friendly and open, that strangers would let in without a second thought. My thing would not have been, I always try to act independently of others. We ate her chestnuts together and told each other about our motivations and expectations on this pilgrimage. She wanted to rethink her future life, both privately and professionally. Towards evening Gretel cooked, I could only contribute the washing up and meanwhile two more pilgrims arrived.

Ramon, a very communicative Spaniard from Barcelona and Clay, a Yank. I thought my English was halfway good, but Clay's american english I could hardly understand. He came from Atlanta, Coca-Cola City, and studied Spanish in Madrid. He later wanted to offer organized pilgrimage tours to American tourists and diligently wrote down everything on his tour. Ramon was multilingual on the way, his hobby was Hiking, I should feel it the next day. He spent part of his vacation on the Camino, with all the vices, he drank neatly and in the evening was stoned. Clay and Ramon conversed in Spanish, Gretel and Ramon in French, only when the three exchanged a few words in English could I join in the conversation. Already here I was shown my cultural limits, I decided to learn Spanish next. Anyway, we spent a funny evening together and learned that the normal route over the Pyrenees was closed. Too dangerous in this weather, However, Ramon, who had walked the Camino several times, said he would go anyway. He would only take us with him if we could run fast. We guaranteed that without knowing what we were doing. Only Clay with his sneakers should better run the bypass route.

After a rather meager breakfast, we set out on the first stage. The pilgrim hostels must be left everywhere by 8 o'clock. It was still dusk and the path was quickly found. After St. Jean, it immediately goes uphill, slowly at first. The mood was good and the sun showed more and more. It became steeper and steeper and the snow level increased. From a kind of path was soon nothing more to see and we trudged through knee-high snow. Ramon made few breaks, he said, the weather changes very quickly here, we should take advantage of the good weather. In between Ramon told us about his experiences, he had been around a lot. Only the stories of wolves and bears in the Pyrenees he should have left out, I turned around afterwards only, whether what pursued us. But except for few giant eagles or vultures, I saw only free-roaming horses. They would find something to eat in the snow, Ramon said on my questioning look. And the vultures would only wait for a tasty "german meal". Well, there's not me here 🙂.

Further up we met a hiker, a local, who gave us some tips. Otherwise there was nothing alive here. The snow was more and more, the sun shone brightly and the scenery was gigantic. However, the running became more and more difficult and there were first arguments between Gretel and Ramon. Gretel wanted more breaks and not to run so fast. I was spared details because of my lack of understanding of French. Ramon really ran very fast, but he let himself be persuaded to very short smoke breaks. Around noon we even managed to get a short break for lunch, about 10 minutes. More was not possible, although we were very well timed, he was afraid of the weather change. And he was right, within a very short time in the afternoon the sky closed in and a snowstorm of the finest began. But we were already near a hut and had here half an hour forced break.

Then the sun came out again as if nothing had happened. In the meantime, there was nothing more to see of a path, it went across over rocks to the summit. Ramon pointed into the snow and said "Spanish border". Aha, we were in Spain, without a guide the way would not have been found today. It went then for a while forest protected along the summit, but just before the steep descent we were caught by another heavy snowstorm. From now on it was steep downhill, not much better to walk, you had to look carefully where you stepped. In the valley, after the storm, Roncesvalles (Roncevaux) was already visible. Ramon, the nationalist Basque, insisted on the Basque name Orreaga. Anyway, finally down, a huge monastery was waiting for us. After paying and stamping we moved into the uncomfortable monastery hostel. The prices for the hostels moved all the way between 3 € and 10 €, very cheap so.

However, the quality of the hostels varied to a greater extent. This was my first pilgrimage and I was not yet used to anything. Here it was cold, gloomy and narrow. There was only one shower and the shower water was lukewarm. After we had found free drying places for our drenched clothes and the shower procedure was over, we went to the only restaurant nearby. The kitchen was still closed, so we indulged in getting drunk. It was again very funny with the troop, Clay had meanwhile arrived from his bypass route.

Ramon learned me a basic Spanish vocabulary to be able to order at least the drinks. After a few hours there was Pilgrims menu with three courses. It was quite decent. Pilgrims menus were available in all major bars and hostels. The price was usually around 10 € and it was often plentiful and good. After dining, however, it went straight to bed, the exhausting first tour took its toll. At night, I had thigh cramps, completely unknown to me so far, but brutal. But the needed sleep found itself at some point.