Sept. 14: St. Jean Pied de Port, France
This ancient capital of the Basque region nestled in the Pyrenees is a welcoming place to start, The storybook village is crowded with pilgrims from all over the world, excited to begin their adventure.
We stay at Beilari, one of the many albergues in town, except that this one comes with a recommendation. Albergues are hostels run exclusively for pilgrims, who show their pilgrim passport and receive a stamp (a lovely souvenir by the end of the trip).
All 22 guests are greeted warmly, settle in and later we all congregate around the long, wooden dining tables. Our host serves us a glass of port and asks us to introduce ourselves, say where we’re from and why we are doing the Camino. The group is from the U.S., France, Malta, Brazil and Australia and we immediately feel a deep connection to each other.
We set the table together as our host tells us that for this night only, we are a family and will share a home cooked meal together. Impressively, he repeats this all in English, French and Spanish and tells us that he plans to learn German during the offseason.
We are told not to set alarms and the next morning awaken to the sounds of a Gregorian chant. After sharing breakfast, we head out together on our first day.
Sept. 15: Orisson, France- 7 miles, three hours
It’s a strenous, uphill walk, so we plan to stop in the albergue in Orisson before continuing through the Pyrenees tomorrow.
We sit outside all afternoon, delighting in the travel stories from our newfound friends from the U.S., Switzerland and Australia, even though traveling through India on a motorcycle and hiking in Nepal are not on our bucket list.
Before dinner we are asked to, once again, introduce ourselves, which seems to give you as much insight into others as it does into yourself. I fall asleep wishing I could have given all 38 new members of my new one-night family a group hug.
Sept. 16: Roncesvalles, Spain- 9 miles, five hours
This is so much better than our 2016 experience; it’s not raining, the trail is better and the rooms at the monastery have been renovated.
It’s a long, uphill climb, but the scenery is breathtaking and the only sound you can hear is the occasional cow bell. I have a sudden urge to run through the hills, twirling around and singing the words to “The Sound of Music,” but suddenly remember the Camino golden rule: never take an extra step that is not necessary.
There are two bunk beds to a cubicle and we are sharing it with a French couple that speak no English. My French friend and I soon find something we have in common; we both keep hitting our heads on the top bunk, laugh and high-five each other.
We enjoy another home cooked dinner, then a big group of us gather to toast a U.S. couple celebrating their 36th wedding anniversary.
Sept. 17: Zubieri- 14 miles, six hours
Of course, things could always be worse. Last time it rained, but now it’s hot and the shale, tree roots and loose rock make the path unrelentingly difficult as we trudge uphill and then descent, over and over again.
At our albergue Palo de Avellano, we meet an older couple who left from their front door in Germany and are now heading home.
Two Tylenol and one power nap later, I am ready for a glass of wine. At the bar, we are invited to join a woman from Holland sitting alone and then run into a couple from Texas.
At dinner, we’re seated next to five men from Denmark who met when they were 6 years old and travel together once a year. We laugh and talk, almost forgetting that it’s lights out at 10 p.m.