All the Pain

Today was probably the most physically challenging day of my life so far. We bought some sandwiches and left Saint-Jean in good spirits. We soon met up with Penny, a seventy-ish woman from Idaho and Matthias, a young German who started his Camino three months ago from his home in Köln. Penny wasn’t walking with a pack, having sent hers ahead.

   

  

  

   
We had second breakfast together in Arnéguy, a town half in Spain and half in France. 

As far as Valcarlos, the Way was strenuous but not terrible – though that hill into Valcarlos about wiped us out. After lunch, it was deceptively easy for a bit, and then the highway walking began. 

            
    
Cars and trucks zoomed past us, the asphalt made my feet into hamburger, and the endless switchbacks and hairpin turns sapped our morale. 

Young Matthias pushed on ahead, while we struggled. We passed two German gentlemen even worse off than us. 

Francine, Penny, and I soon ran into two more Americans: Becky, a fortysomething from Colorado struggling under her heavy pack, while Billy shepherded her along – how do you describe Billy? Long, wild grey beard and long, wild grey hair. Gandalf in tech gear. Slow and steady, he would allow Becky to rest for ten timed minutes and then gently get her moving again. 

On the endless climb into the mountains, Francine’s foot began bothering her something fierce. To help her out, Penny volunteered to carry her pack for a while. Francine finally relented, and we made good progress for a while while they took turns carrying the pack. But, oh the endless switchbacks!

We finally made it into Roncesvalles at about 7:30 pm, having set out eleven hours previously. 

After showering, we were too late for the monks’ pilgrims’ Mass, so we went to dinner and now to bed. Everything hurts except my hair. 

Photos may be seen using the link in the side bar.