Day 1 - St. Jean Pied de Port to Roncesvalles
Today I crossed the Pyrenees. Not that I saw much of it. Between my glasses fogging up and actual fog, I couldn’t see a damn thing. At one point I found myself alone, amongst the fog, with bells gently ringing around me. Suddenly a French lady emerged from the mist to my left. When I asked her what the bells were she answered “Pee pee”. Seeing my bewildered look, she pretended to squat and piss. She really wasn’t much help at all. Further along, I came across the source of the bells: Horses. Or to be precise, horses in the middle of the act of coitus. Bells clanged, hooves stamped, whinnies echoed and finally, there was a fart-like noise and the stallion called it quits. I would have preferred the source of the bells to remain a mystery, to be honest. The fog finally lifted long enough for me to see the no-expense-spared cattle grille that marked the border between France and Spain. It was breathtaking in its mundanity. The final knee-punishing 5km saw me limp into Roncesvalles and straight into the arms of a well-earned bocadillo.
Distance - 23.6Km
Difficulty- ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️/5
Camin-oh no! - Overestimating the availability of food.
Camin-oh hell yeah! - Coffee. Strong, muscle-reviving coffee.
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