Day 1: SJPP to Orisson

I met my Camino family today in St. Jean Pied du Port, France! I stayed a beautiful albergue, owned and managed by Josef and family. The place, like most of the old walled city, was built during the early Medieval period. Huge beams of oak, harvested in the 900s, loomed over my head in my top bunk. A quick nap to help with jet lag, then the call to dinner! Introductions for twenty people, then a communal meal.

At the table my new Camino family.

Albergue Beilari

Next morning I woke early and started my climb into the Pyrenees. It was wickedly steep walking. One of the people i was following became quite sick hours into the walk. It was all he could do to take a step at a time. The road was like climbing steep stairs for miles and miles. I stopped often to catch my breath, scan the skies for birds, and take pictures.

Six miles of steep walking took four hours!

The Pyrenees surrounded us, hundreds of pilgrims streaming up into high peaks, most having started at SJPP, some having walked from as far as Munich, Paris, and Rome. We were in Basque country - fiercely independent and rooted to the earth. This is not France nor Spain, I was informed by one Basque hiker. These mountains have been home for thousands of years, long before France or Spain were even imagined.

A land of shepherds, a land of the Celts, Euskadi.

I took breaks every hundred steps trying to catch my breath. Many people just strode upward, many more struggled. The sick pilgrim, now far below, was advised to turn back. Pilgrims passed word up the mountain that he insisted on continuing . I learned today (three days later as I write this post in Zubiri ) that the man, in his forties, collapsed at Orisson and died. But at the time of my own climb, news of his condition was being passed forward: Pray for this pilgrim. Offer him help to come off the mountain.