It was not advised by the pilgrim's office in St. Jean Pied de Port. Going past the albergue at Orisson and on the Napolean route over the Pyrenees mountains could be dangerous. Pilgrims were advised to bus or walk the lower route to Valcarlos.
It was Leslie's call. I had walked this route last June 4 and 5 in beautiful clear weather. I was prepared for the weather and had the experience. This was her Camino. We headed to Orisson and would make the decision about the next stage in the morning.
In our very first conversations about meeting up on the Camino we discussed the location of St Jean Pied de Port. I made reservations to coordinate the dates she would be there. I did not know at that time I would walk with her from France into Spain. Leslie showed some trepidation about the climb. I suggested that by doing it together we both would be fine.
As expected, once she was told "no" Leslie became more determined to go over Napoleon's route. She also wanted to walk down the challenging descent through the forest to Ronscesvalle, even though the safer road route was available. I was working on an argument for that one.
We kept our reservations at Orisson, and made an early start out of the Gite L 'Espirit Chemin. . 8 kilometers, not too bad in distance. Yet in the 8 k we would gain like 300 billion meters in elevation.
"Frickin steep." Leslie said. "Steeper than anything in France." I didn't think so. Time to distract. I told the stories of my first walk last June. "This is where I stopped to pee in the barn and the dog let me know that was not ok." "We stopped for ice cream here." "Where this road crosses the cows came running down and the herders yelled at us to get out of the way." "This is where we leave the road for awhile and climb straight up." " Ah ha, I laid down here and took a nap." "There are some switchbacks here". "We are almost back to the road." "Look back now, the fog has cleared. See how far you've come." "Be amazed Leslie. You are amazing. Be amazed." "There is a water fountain coming up." "When we got here we started singing Yellow Submarine. " "Wal ah. Orisson."
We made it. We shared a room with 4 other people. The man in the bunk overhead snored so loudly I thought an avalanche was rolling down the mountain. And perhaps there was no water for a shower. Phew!
Morning came and we missed getting out with the early group. The guy from the kitchen was guiding some pilgrims from the point where the Camino leaves the trail through the pass. We meet him coming back. The climb was less steep, yet the the wind, fog, sleet brought out the level of difficulty. At one point my walking buddy sat down. "That's it, I am not going on." To which I responded "You aren't hurt and I am not calling the rescue team here. Get up. One foot in front of the other. We'll stay close". And she did. She got up and walked We met up with a cute American teenager coming up from the other side. He was so sweet when he told us "If I had to do this over, I would take the road." For whatever reason, his sweet smiled warmed Leslie, and inspired by this Camino angel she had new life! We kept climbing until we came to a little hut where there were 3 young people from Great Britain huddled out of the wind. I had taken a nap outside here last summer. Not today. And I had to go to the bathroom quite bad here last summer. Yes, that too, today.
The next people we met were an older couple who warned of 3 km of wretched mud. They were not kidding. We walked into Spain, past Rolands fountain, and along the path with the closely set marker sticks so you would not stray in a white out. One would expect that Spain would take care of its mud problem, especially since France did not. Hah!
We reached the paved road. This is the point people are mistaken about a landmark in Brierly's guidebook. Here the trail goes steeply down on the right and crosses the paved road. At that crossing point you have the choice to continue left down through the forest or take the windy road right.
We met up with a kind gentleman from Ireland with whom we had the discussion "which way". The marked trail crossed a steep snowfield. We decided to see where the road went. My instincts were correct that it just met up with the trail. At the crossing we stopped to see pilgrims struggling down the snow field, falling. One tumbled a few times. They regrouped and I was able to report from experience that the trail down was steep. We could see that it had recently been closed and roped off. All decided on the road. They took off and left me in the fog. Perfectly OK. Down is down. The road switched back and your could cut directly down to save time. Reaching the bottom, we could not find the route to Ronscesvailles. After about 50 feet of highway walking we heard shouts calling us back. Down the draw we went, through a lovely forest. I dragged myself into the new albergue. It took awhile to get my bunk, a few cubbies away from Leslie. The abby was warm, and filled with excited pilgrims just starting out. They were surprised to hear I was finishing my walk now. A dinner of trout and wine followed. Leslie found the green bag full of our extra stuff. I stayed up until lights out and then drifted off into seamless sleep.
Morning came and we missed getting out with the early group. The guy from the kitchen was guiding some pilgrims from the point where the Camino leaves the trail through the pass. We meet him coming back. The climb was less steep, yet the the wind, fog, sleet brought out the level of difficulty. At one point my walking buddy sat down. "That's it, I am not going on." To which I responded "You aren't hurt and I am not calling the rescue team here. Get up. One foot in front of the other. We'll stay close". And she did. She got up and walked We met up with a cute American teenager coming up from the other side. He was so sweet when he told us "If I had to do this over, I would take the road." For whatever reason, his sweet smiled warmed Leslie, and inspired by this Camino angel she had new life! We kept climbing until we came to a little hut where there were 3 young people from Great Britain huddled out of the wind. I had taken a nap outside here last summer. Not today. And I had to go to the bathroom quite bad here last summer. Yes, that too, today.
The next people we met were an older couple who warned of 3 km of wretched mud. They were not kidding. We walked into Spain, past Rolands fountain, and along the path with the closely set marker sticks so you would not stray in a white out. One would expect that Spain would take care of its mud problem, especially since France did not. Hah!
We reached the paved road. This is the point people are mistaken about a landmark in Brierly's guidebook. Here the trail goes steeply down on the right and crosses the paved road. At that crossing point you have the choice to continue left down through the forest or take the windy road right.
We met up with a kind gentleman from Ireland with whom we had the discussion "which way". The marked trail crossed a steep snowfield. We decided to see where the road went. My instincts were correct that it just met up with the trail. At the crossing we stopped to see pilgrims struggling down the snow field, falling. One tumbled a few times. They regrouped and I was able to report from experience that the trail down was steep. We could see that it had recently been closed and roped off. All decided on the road. They took off and left me in the fog. Perfectly OK. Down is down. The road switched back and your could cut directly down to save time. Reaching the bottom, we could not find the route to Ronscesvailles. After about 50 feet of highway walking we heard shouts calling us back. Down the draw we went, through a lovely forest. I dragged myself into the new albergue. It took awhile to get my bunk, a few cubbies away from Leslie. The abby was warm, and filled with excited pilgrims just starting out. They were surprised to hear I was finishing my walk now. A dinner of trout and wine followed. Leslie found the green bag full of our extra stuff. I stayed up until lights out and then drifted off into seamless sleep.
What will tomorrow bring?
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