Check in at St Jean De Pied Du Port

We woke up late at Anna's. Both of us tired from jet lag and a night of drinking cervasa in Pamplona. We were slow to go but Anna made us breakfast that consisted of coffee, a hard boiled egg, and toast. It was very good and hit the spot.

When we left Anna's we had about 3 hours before the bus left to St Jean. It was raining and we did not print directions to the bus depot. So in the rain Jenni and I were very happy that we packed rain gear as we navigated through town.

We found the bus and met a fellow pilgrim. Brian from Brooklyn. The bus was a nice charter bus with high seats. The narrow road to St Jean however was ripe switchbacks and steep 200 foot banks. The driver was confident in the route and did not slow down very often not even for bicyclist instead opting to honk his horn forcing them out of the way. When Jenni started feeling a bit woozy I was slightly concerned and debated telling her the lady in the seat in front of us already puked into a bag.

We arrived in St Jean de Pied Du Port. The weather was still a bit cloudy and cool. Our packs felt light as we entered the walls of the old city. The streets were cobble stone and the buildings were all 3-4 hundred years old. We could feel the history emanating from them and the number of conche shells representing St James were everywhere.

We found the Pilgrims Office at the top of one of the streets and inside there were 6 volunteers helping pilgrims get their pilgrims passports. They each spoke different languages and we ended up with one that spoke French and Spanish. Again Jenni's language skills continued to impress me. A short 15 minutes later we had our passports and bunks reserved at the Alberque.

A very French speaking volunteer walked us to the Alberque. It was a very old stone building built some time in the 17th century. Our bunks were down a flight in what would have been an old coal or wood storage room. It had an old shoot that was covered over. There were three sets of bunk beds and it seemed very clean. It did have a door that opened out to a garden and the old city wall. It was unbelievable that we were sleeping in such an old piece of history on the inside of the old city.

As we walked around through the shops in this French town I found myself in a precarious position. Jenni did not speak French! So something I did not expect happened, I was the language expert. I could hear the laughter from Mr Faultinowski my French teacher from High School. I know he would be concerned but also probably saying "Ha! Perhaps sleeping wasn't the best answer in class."

I stumbled through the very few phrases I remembered and Jenni and I worked our way to a corner shop for a crepe and cider. While there the comraderie of the Camino took shape. We met about a dozen people since we landed in Madeid. While at the shop every one of them walked by and joined us for conversation. At this point both Jenni and I realized that we would not be alone on this trek and the comfort of so many people from countries as far away as Thailand, Australia, and Belgium were represented.

Tomorrow we start the walk and we could not be any more excited.