SAINT JEAN PIED DE PORT to REFUGE ORISSON

May 2, 2016
Today — 6.2 miles, all up!

This was it—the first day of my 500-mile journey!

I awoke with a dry throat, tummy roiling. Much like the pre-game jitters I got years (and YEARS!) ago while playing college sports. I had heard the stories. The first day of the Camino was the absolute toughest. And with my lack of training I just wasn’t sure how my body would perform.

Fortunately, my plan was to split the straight-up, straight-down, 14.9-mile “suggested Stage 1” for the Camino into two parts. I would be stopping at the Refuge Orisson at the 6.2 mile mark. This is pretty much the only overnight option between SJPP and Roncesvalles, Spain, on the far side of the Pyrenees.

I dressed quickly, wondering about the day. I closed up my pack, cinched down the straps, took a deep breath and headed to the sitting room for breakfast.

If Ian was nervous, he didn’t show it. And he was planning to cycle all the way over the Pyrenees, through Roncesvalles and on to Pamplona in one day! I hoped my own jitters didn’t show.

Melanie served us a scrumptious breakfast of fried eggs, fig bread toast slathered in butter, a variety of jams, fresh orange juice and tea. A good meal to start the journey. We tucked into our food and enjoyed good conversation around the table.

Once the shuttle van arrived to transport Ian’s panniers on ahead for him—at the sage advice of other Day One riders—we were ready to go. I threw my pack in the backseat of Melanie’s car and climbed in. Ian followed us into town on his bicycle.

The day was gorgeous. Cool, almost cold, with sunny and azure skies. Perfect for hiking. I waved goodbye to Ian as he whirled past us on his bike. I donned my 20ish-pound backpack, said my goodbyes to Melanie and snugged up my shoulder and hip straps.

Then I took my first official step onto the Camino de Santiago, joining the flow of enthusiastic Pilgrims making their way up the steep country road.

The way only got steeper. The group thinned out, each person or small group hiking at their own pace. Even though I’m a fairly brisk walker on the flat, I’m SLOOOW on hills.

Think: turtle.

In granny-gear.

But this was my Camino, so slow was fine. One small step at a time.

I caught up with Ian at a sunny resting spot. He had quickly abandoned any hope of biking the incline, so we walked together for a nice while before he finally said farewell and took off ahead of me. Did I mention how slow I am? I believe he had to push his bike all the way to Orisson, and most likely beyond that! I’ve often wondered if he was able to make it to Pamplona that day.

I was surrounded by deep rolling hills painted in lush green. Very pastoral, with bushy trees defining boundaries and an occasional stone fence. Here and there a small home or barn would peek out at me as if to say, “Buen Camino, Pilgrim.” The low mist drifting on the distant horizon was losing its battle with the rising sun.

Up, up, and up I went. At one point a group of us stopped to watch a half dozen Griffon Vultures soaring on air currents over the valley below. When you’re looking down on the tops of birds of prey, you know you’re getting up high!

 

A mile or so out from my destination I met two Canadian gals, Sandy and Marian, and almost immediately sensed a pleasant friendship budding. We chatted and laughed, and just about the time we lamented we’d never get there, we rounded a bend and there it was: Orisson!

I had made it!

I did a Rocky victory dance—feet bouncing, arms punching the sky above me! Well, in my head, anyway. No point in scaring off my new friends—just yet! I thanked God for the stamina and for absolutely no ankle issues. The three of us enjoyed lunch together on the outside veranda overlooking the vast and peaceful Pyrenees. A great end to our very first and very challenging day.

Looking back, planning to stay at Orisson was one of my best decisions. I had heard rave reviews from others about how they not only enjoyed the small, personal accommodations, but the camaraderie of the place. That turned out to be so true! I’m so glad I was able to get a reservation.

We were checked into our rooms shortly after lunch. I lucked out with all women in my 3-bunk room—no offense, guys!—two gals from New Zealand, one each from North Carolina, Denmark, and Sweden. These new friends would turn out to be familiar faces all along the journey!

Once my bed was “made”—with the thin disposable mattress cover and pillowcase—and my sleeping bag thrown on top, I settled into what would be my daily routine: getting showered (today was 5 minutes only in lukewarm water), washing and hanging out my “unders” and towel to dry, then doing a bit of journaling.

I had gotten chilled out on the deck—the shower hadn’t helped and our room was cold—so I journaled from inside my warm sleeping bag. Being cold made me wonder about my final decision to leave my cozy fleece at home. I knew there would be some colder weather ahead.

The rest of the afternoon was spent napping, chatting with my roommates, visiting with Sandy and Marian outside on a picnic bench, and meeting more new people from all over the world! What a stimulating experience.

Our family-style dinner (another perk at Orisson) was wonderful and welcome. Hot, delicious veggie broth, mounds of tantalizing roasted chicken, a tasty carrot and pea dish, followed by an almond-flavored dessert. The best part was the easy and companionable fellowship around the tables, even with several different languages being spoken.

I went to bed a contented camper. Before I nodded off, God and I had a good conversation. Lots of gratitude for the day, then mostly about my needing Him tomorrow—to keep me warm; for the energy I would need to reach the summit; for a focus on His Presence, even while with other people; and for stamina on the much-touted thigh-burning downhill hike into Roncesvalles.

❦