Day One: St-Jean-Pied-de-Port to Refuge Orisson (7.9km)
A mix of excitement and nerves pumped through my body as I left the hostel in St-Jean-Pied-de-Port before sunrise to begin my Camino. I remember seeing pilgrims both ahead of me and behind me. We didn't talk, but the presence of other pilgrims was comforting. We walked in silence as the sun rose on the beautiful French countryside.
The hike into the Pyrenees was harder than I expected. Every few minutes, I had to stop to catch my breath, but there was a comfort in knowing that my body could only get stronger and stronger.
I arrived to my destination -- an albergue (aka pilgrim hostel) in the Pyrenees -- at 9:40AM. It was a simple little cabin with a bar and patio overlooking an expansive valley, surrounded by mountains. The familiar sound of American accents drew me to a group of English speakers: two men in their 60s who were walking for religious reasons (it became readily apparent that one dragged the other...), an Irish woman who would end up being one of my walking buddies for much of the Way, a widower from New Zealand who was walking in honor of his late wife, and a lively Australian couple. We spent the day drinking beers on the patio and watching the pilgrims pass on their way to the next stop (Roncevalles, 17km away). That evening, we had a communal meal at which each pilgrim shared their reason for walking. Many were focused on getting closer to oneself, whether it be at a point of transition in ones life or after a great hardship. I said that I came with many questions, and I hoped the Camino will help me answer them. More on that soon...
The hike into the Pyrenees was harder than I expected. Every few minutes, I had to stop to catch my breath, but there was a comfort in knowing that my body could only get stronger and stronger.
I arrived to my destination -- an albergue (aka pilgrim hostel) in the Pyrenees -- at 9:40AM. It was a simple little cabin with a bar and patio overlooking an expansive valley, surrounded by mountains. The familiar sound of American accents drew me to a group of English speakers: two men in their 60s who were walking for religious reasons (it became readily apparent that one dragged the other...), an Irish woman who would end up being one of my walking buddies for much of the Way, a widower from New Zealand who was walking in honor of his late wife, and a lively Australian couple. We spent the day drinking beers on the patio and watching the pilgrims pass on their way to the next stop (Roncevalles, 17km away). That evening, we had a communal meal at which each pilgrim shared their reason for walking. Many were focused on getting closer to oneself, whether it be at a point of transition in ones life or after a great hardship. I said that I came with many questions, and I hoped the Camino will help me answer them. More on that soon...
