It’s September 28th and it’s morning. I am about to begin my Camino. I got up early to see the city at dawn. The cobbled stoned Rue de Citadel was still quiet but it belied the activity soon to begin. In a matter of a few minutes, pilgrims began to open doors of the albergues onto the street ready to begin their Way. I walked a few meters to the pilgrims’ office to get my Camino passport stamped and to pick up my shell.
My shell on my backpack in the photo above.
I spent the night in a pensione owned by a husband and wife. It is actually their home, and they rent out only four of the rooms. Both are pastry chefs, and you can only imagine how exceptional was breakfast. The door of the pensione opened onto Rue de Citadel which is on the Camino, and which is where I began.
I made it to Ronceveau but the walk was a trial by fire. It was physically grueling, and because I started at 9:30 am, I knew that I would arrive in Ronceveau later than I expected. However I had no idea just how much later I would be, and I had no idea what I was going to encounter. I did arrive in one piece – but just barely . . . AND 12 hours later. Details in the next post.