Day 1 and 2 – Orisson and Burguete

May 7th, Day 1 – St. Jean to Orisson

I had a hard time sleeping last night.  The excitement and anticipation of beginning the Camino was gurgling through my veins and mind.  Each time I awoke brought with it a thought of reminders ‘to do’ before departing or an ‘oh my gosh, I’m really doing this’!

The morning is cloudy and cool which for me is perfect hiking weather and after a final run through of my backpack and a light breakfast of French breads and coffee I stepped out of my hotel and turned in the direction of the start of the Camino which is immediately outside the old walled part of St. Jean.

The first day of the Camino is notoriously the hardest – it has the highest elevation gain and goes into the Pyrenees crossing from France into Spain. I decided to break up the day by stopping at Orisson Refuge about 3/4 of the way up the mountain.  There are only 40 beds available and I secured my space back in March.

I noted how my body felt as I began climbing the hill which starts on the asphalt road and I felt strong.  I tuned into my inner metronome finding my walking rhythm and looked around at the magnificent scenery.  Soon I was in farmland with Charlorie cows – their bells clanging, and flocks of sheep that included lots of babies.

There was a strong wind creating resistance but I was pleasantly surprised when I saw Orisson Refuge up ahead after only 2hours.  How was that possible?!?  Dare I say it was easy? My worst fears were replaced with jubilation.  I did it!  And, I feel great!  The rest of the day and evening were spent meeting fellow pilgrims and eating a wonderful meal together at a long farmhouse table where I couldn’t stop smiling and thinking ‘today was a piece of cake’!  I hoped I would not have to eat those words tomorrow on the remaining climb and descent into Spain.

May 8th – Orisson to Burguete

Last night a storm rolled in and stayed that rocked the refuge shaking shutters and windows and doors sucked by the wind then slamming shut again.  It reminded me of the storms that hit the Pacific Northwest that often leave a sparkling sunny day which is what I was praying would happen here. This morning didn’t fall quite in that category but it wasn’t still storming nor raining.  We were told there would be winds as we progressed upwards but having experienced that yesterday it didn’t give me cause for alarm.

I had been enjoying another beautiful Camino scenery day for about 30 minutes when the wind came from no where and almost blew me off the path.  Planting my body firmly in the ground and poles in each hand I leaned left into the wind and continued walking.  The walk went something like this:  two steps right and one step forward.  The wind was so strong I was leaning forward now and left, two steps to the right from the wind and one small step forward.  My backpack was blowing to the right creating additional force that pulled my body sideways.  The temperature was dropping and while I had plenty of layers available in my backpack as well as gloves I knew that attempting to take off my backpack to get to those items was not only risking the loss of the backpack itself- I also couldn’t imagine me being able to get it back on again.

While my head was down I turned a bit to the side to see how other pilgrims were faring and they held the same strange stance as me.  After about 3 miles there was an alcove where a little food truck was parked and pilgrims gathered just as the rain began to sprinkle on me.  This gave the opportunity I was looking for to get what I needed from my pack.  I had been forcing the thoughts of hypothermia out of my head and my relief at adding more clothing was both mental and physical.  I’d like to say the wind dissipated but it did not.

There was a brief time just before entering Spain when I had cleared the highest peak and was delighted to walk thru a birch lined path with fallen birch leaves several inches deep.  The wind continued to accompany me.

As we wound our way down into the town of Roncesvelles, the wind never let up.  Several of us gathered in front of the Roncesvelles Abbey and shared our stories.  None of us had ever experienced winds like that and we agreed that the winds exceeded 50 mph and up.  Beautiful music was coming from the church where Sunday Mass was being held.  We each sang our own Hallelujah that we had made it safe and sound over the mountain though wet and bedraggled.

Roncesvelles is the typical stop of this day and I leave most of my pilgrims here continuing on to Burguete where there is a hotel where Ernest  Hemingway used to stayed for extended periods to write.  His signature is still on the piano (1923).  Before heading there I stop at the sign showing how many kilometers to Santiago for a photo op.

St Jean to Orisson length and elevation:

Orisson to Burguete length and elevation: