St Jean Pied de Port to Roncevelles

Sorry my friends for no post yesterday the Internet was too weak where I was staying so I am posting it from a little bar in Zubiri.

Whew!  What a day.  16.4 miles and 37,713 steps.  

Disaster struck early!  I realized as I was eating breakfast that I had not put the luggage tag on my suitcase. So in the lobby, in front of everyone,  I dug around my suitcase and found it. Tagged the valise (as they call them here) AND THE DAMN ZIPPER BROKE.  Broke as in non-fixable.  As in all my clothes falling out. The hotel owner had some tape and I wrapped my suitcase in some kind of tape with filament(?) in it and sent it on its way, saying some serious prayers.  I bought the rest of the roll from him and I am going to try to limp the suitcase to a bigger town such as Pamplona.  Let's pray that I don't strow panties and other things all over Spain. Believe it or not I hiked through an outlet mall close to St Jean but no way could I drag a suitcase for fifteen miles.  And I couldn’t buy it an go back because the owner told me they pick up the luggage very early in St Jean.  Screwed and tattooed as Helen would say!

I was very sad to find out that I couldn't go over the highest peak of the Pyrenees, the Route Napoleon.  There was too much snow and high winds.  It was closed.  I had to take the Route Valcarlos which is the area that Charlemagne cross the Pyrenees and suffered his worst loss.  Although this was advertised as walking the road, there was much trail and I swear it was harder than the Route Napoleon.  Four years ago, Dennis and I were able to hike the Route Napoleon. 

 

It didn't take me long after I left St Jean Pied de Port to sport my first cross.  I saw this fellow early own. Notice the rosary.   

 In spite of all the hard work, (pant pant! gasp gasp!) the scenery was spectacular.

There were many flowers and trees in bloom.

There were fast moving streams and rivers along the entire journey. The photo on the left is a waterfall.  It was so nice to have that wonderful flowing water sound all day.  

I spotted my first arrow...almost in Spain.  The French use the red and white European GR trail markers and they are much harder to follow.  They are also usually very small

I thought this was a pretty cool mural. You can always spot St James (Santiago) because of the staff with a gord on it.

Although I was still in France, I saw two of the wild Spanish Patoka ponies.  They probably don't care that they are supposed to be in Spain. They are only about thigh high but very sturdy.

                                     

 I can honestly say that today was grueling. It was cold and very windy.  I am going to ask my hiking friends if any of them have ever had a tail wind when hiking up any mountain. I had a brutal head wind for most of the day.  The first fourteen miles were up-mountain.  Finally, close to Roncavelles, there was some downhill.  And just to make matters worse, it rained (lightly) so I put on my rain poncho and didn’t eat. It is very hard to get to your food with a poncho because it covers your backpack. Well as the day continued, you guessed it.  Ran out of fuel to the point I had to sit in the rain and wolf down a cheese sandwich.  

 Welcome to Spain!  Whoohoo!  Top of the Pyrenees.

I stopped at the first bar that I saw and practically wolfed down this tortilla. A Spanish tortilla is a cross between an omelette and a quiche...always made with potatoes and a little runnier than a quiche. They are served in almost every bar and this one was really good.

The suitcase made it ...no lost underwear.  It took me twenty minutes to get the tape off.  Then I couldn’t get the hotel door open and had to go back and get the bartender.  Did I tell you that my back keeps having these muscle spasms.  Not fun.  Oh, and my tendinitis in my left knee raised its ugly head.  Other than that I am having a wonderful time.  LOL.  Even the worst of Camino days are still good. :)  So not to worry I am just mildly whining.  Nothing a good nights sleep won't cure.

Dinner was nothing to blog about just good sturdy hiking food.  I sat at a pilgrim table of about eight hikers.  Accompanying me was a lovely American couple from New Hampshire.  He is a retired doctor and she stayed home with their four children.  Now they are empty-nesters, have sold their big house and are technically homeless.  Such nice people.  We also had two Germans, a Danish man, a South American man and one that I can't remember.  It was fun.

So I say good night.