Au Revoir France, Hola Espagne!

On Friday afternoon I began my journey up and over the Pyrenees and into Spain. There's a gite 8kms out of St Jean towards Spain and it takes a good chunk of the uphill out of the next journey. I hiked up, feeling the new road ahead - in a way it was like starting all over again, new country, new language, new places, new people. Let's not beat around the bush - the uphill stage to Orisson is hard. After a month hiking I was fine but it's really steep and constant for 2 hours of walking. I cannot imagine how it must be for the pilgrims who start their road at St Jean and do it on their first day. I made it to Orisson about 2:30 and settled in. There was a deck perched on the side of the mountain and we sat there drinking sangria and watching the tiny towns below us as the sun set. Then it got VERY cold. Oh that's right, I'm in the bloody Pyrenees! Dinner was great fun and I woke up extremely excited. I was one of the first out the door and into a perfectly clear morning. I couldn't have asked for a better day - not a cloud, the mist was below us and the sky was already a beautiful deep blue. More uphill, up up up but every step just bought views more spectacular than the last. When the sun came up the light swept across the mountains and burned the sky gold and pink - no words, no photos can capture it. Although, having said that, I took about 50 photos in a matter of 20 minutes, so I did try! It was an amzing high, walking through such a beautiful place, all green rolling hills and studded with rocky outcrops. I met a hunter who'd lived in Bondi in the 60's (that was surreal)and crossed into Spain without realising because there's no real marker. Down through forest paths, kicking through autumn leaves, I realised I'd left France behind and was now embarking on the next stage of my strange road to Santiago.

The abbey of Roncesvalles appeared below me and I cheered. I got my ticket for the dorm and tested out my new Spanish skills by ordering a coffee and a hot chocolate. I kept answering in French and at one point slipped into Japanese. I think the "foreign language" part of my brain has overloaded. I went tothe church which was beautiful, then found Chris and Phillipe at the other bar and kept up my Spanish practice by ordering a beer! At 4pm we made our way down to the old abbey building where the pilgrims sleep. The albergue (pilgrim hostel in Spanish) in Roncesvalles is legendary. It's a huge old building with over a hundred beds lined up. I grabbed a bottom bunk and dashed to the shower in case hot water was limited. JIllian arrived a few hours later and it was lovely to catch up and see her again. A group of us went ot the pilgrim blessing at the church (it was all in Spanish so all I did was stand up and sit down a lot) then headed to the restaurant for dinner. It was 7:45 and dinner was at 8. THe waitress first refused to let us in, then opened the door and demanded the reservation ticket we should have had. I didn't. After an extended argument in French (hey, I can fight back in a foreign language!) she gave us the table and we sat down. Suddnely the food arrived. Not Michelan star quality, but filling and hot and after climbing mountains, that's really all that matters.

The time was returning to winter time that night, so we'd have to wake up earlier to leave with the sun. It was surprisingly quiet in the dorm (not as much snoring as I'd expected) and I woke up early, eager to be off into the next part of my adventure. Stay tuned...