Kilometers walked/hiked: 24.7  

Change in elevation: 1230 meters up

I arrived in Saint Jean on Saturday afternoon along with a number of other backpack-wearing, nervous-looking pilgrims. The blue skies suggested good things to come, but I felt no small amount of anxiety about the rain forecast for the next day, when I had cross the Pyrenees on foot. Although I’d been training (by taking two- or three-hour walks around Paris with a mostly full backpack), I had no idea what such a daunting first day would feel like. Would my back hurt? Would I get blisters? Just how exhausted would I be at the end of the day? My naturally anxious brain, always happy to supply me with a stream of worst case scenarios, was in overdrive as I considered all of the known and potentially unknown challenges ahead.

I enjoyed dinner that night with two of my roommates in the hostel. One had come from Brazil to bike the whole Camino in about two weeks, and the other had come from London to walk as much as she could before she had to get back to a new job. None of us had done anything like this before.

I woke up the following morning just as the rain was starting to fall. I had known it was coming, but hearing it hit the cobblestones on the street really brought home for the first time that I was about to cross a mountain range on foot and get soaked while doing it.

Alma and I wished our biking Brazilian friend our first “buen Camino!” and set off on foot through progressively aggressive rain. Our walk transitioned to a climb very quickly, and I had a pleasant and unexpected revelation: I was in great shape for climbs! I had spent the past two and a half years living in fifth- and sixth-floor apartments with no elevator, and without knowing it, I had been training for the Camino each time I climbed those many stairs. While I certainly felt challenged as we ascended, I saw that I could go faster and less breathlessly than many of the other pilgrims we encountered. I didn’t know it then, but climbs were to be one of my favorite elements of the whole Camino journey.

Alma and I parted ways at Orisson (still in France) after a break for coffee and, in my case, to dump water out of my supposedly waterproof hiking boots. She was inclined to continue the following day, when the weather looked more promising and she’d be able to enjoy the view that the clouds and fog had currently hidden from us. I continued on for another hour or two in the rain, and it finally stopped sometime near my crossing of the border into Spain.

As you can see, the border consisted only of a stone marker next to the path. (I also had the benefit of receiving a message from my French phone carrier to let me know I’d entered Spain, though interestingly, I received that about 30 minutes before reaching this marker.) Not long after, the path diverted from the open into a wooded area, and I and the rest of the new pilgrims experienced the fun of trekking through squelchy mud.

By the time I got through the forest, the clouds had started to part, and I finally got a sense of the views I’d been missing up to that point.

Not long after this, the path finally started to descend again. I spent the last hour accompanying an American woman named Pam who had told her son to go on ahead but seemed in need of a little moral support as we picked our way down the uneven and still wet path leading into Roncesvalles. Staying with her in this moment was the first of many times to come when I’d feel called to help a fellow pilgrim in some way. Many pilgrims discuss the existence of “Camino Angels”, and I believe that these exist in forms both human and divine. All pilgrims walking have opportunities to be a Camino Angel for someone, whether it’s helping someone through a difficult stretch, offering a snack, or sharing first aid items; I also felt, particularly on the more challenging terrain of the first couple of days, that an unseen presence was protecting me while I walked. I said “thank you!” out loud on several occasions when I nearly lost my footing or my balance and somehow righted myself again. I always found that the Camino provided what I needed at any given moment through both kinds of Camino Angels, and I sought to be a Camino Angel for others whenever I could.

When Pam and I finally made it to Roncesvalles, it felt a bit surreal. It takes a while to process the tremendous feat of having crossed the Pyrenees on foot, and you feel the accomplishment of all the other pilgrims too. What a remarkable thing, to have a couple hundred people wearing heavy backpacks cross from one country into another over a mountain range, all in the span of eight hours or less!

The albergue (pilgrim hostel) in Roncesvalles is huge; Roncesvalles is a true hamlet and essentially consists of the albergue, a church, a hotel, and two restaurants. It, like many other towns along the way, exists for and because of the Camino. After receiving a stamp in my pilgrim passport and a bunk assignment, I joined the other pilgrims in taking off my still-wet boots and made my way up to the second floor, where probably about 100 people were to sleep in bunk pods of four.

My other three bunkmates were already there when I arrived. Adam, William, and Bill will figure prominently in many of the forthcoming posts. Of the innumerable serendipitous events of my Camino, being assigned to their pod was probably the most significant.

The rest of my day consisted of taking a shower (in warm water!), washing clothes, having dinner, chatting with the guys as we got our things organized for the morning, jotting a few reflections in my journal, and texting my mother to let her know I’d arrived safely. This was the post-walking routine every day on the Camino.

I’ll close by answering the three questions I posed at the beginning: Did my back hurt? No! Did I get blisters? No, even though I walked in wet socks all that time! Just how exhausted was I? Not as much as expected – I think there was a lot of adrenaline and excitement that carried me through that challenging first day.

I’ll be writing these posts according to the stream of consciousness that arrives as I think back to each day and look at my pictures. I will try to work in information that may be helpful for aspiring pilgrims, but feel free to leave a comment with questions you may have, and I’ll try to address them in future posts!

As we say on the Way: Buen Camino!