Day 33: Saint-Jean-Pied-de-Port to Roncevaux

God smiled on this pilgrim as he climbed the Pyrenee

Each twist and turn did open sun-blessed vistas, him to see

In pure elation did he come down into Roncevaux

That’s it, the journey’s over; now it’s time for him to go

29 May 2024, Wednesday

Distance hiked 26.9km (16.7m)

Ascent 1,761m

So this was the big one. My hosts agreed to let me leave with them a plastic bag with most of my stuff in it, just for the day for I was returning from Roncevaux. So I lightened my rucksack considerably. Then breakfast was the best I’d had on the Chemin, and couldn’t have been better timed. I’ve mentioned I was very keen for anything but bread and jam, and Christian gave me a yoghurt, a fruit salad, a croissant and a pain-aux-raisins. He asked me if I would like some eggs and I requested a cheese omelette. A little bit of humming and sizzling later and there appeared a perfect, and I mean perfect, omelette. It was delicious. Chatting to Christian I discovered their time in England had been because he worked first at Le Gavroche for the Roux brothers, and then set up his own restaurant in Battersea, which was Michelin-starred. So that was why they spoke English. And THAT was why my breakfast was so lovely. I was blessed with the perfect start to this challenging day – portentously and optimistically blessed, I felt.

Leaving Gure Lana well-breakfasted

And so on to Roncevaux. For 4 or 5 kilometres the route climbs a little as the sun climbs in the sky, and you zoom past overly equipped and underly prepared Koreans, Chinese and Americans. These were people starting the Camino, not finishing off the Chemin. It was an entirely different dynamic. Nobody went past me for the whole day, and I estimate I overtook 200 people in total by the end of it, certainly more than a hundred. For four kilometres it then climbs brutally to a pitstop called “Refuge Orisson”. In those four kilometres you’re rising from around 200m to 700m: averaging more than 10%, and in places it must have been a 20% incline. At Orisson there’s a nice little café and well placed terrace and everyone stops here to catch their breath.

A beautiful atmospheric morning greeted me as I left St Jean and started on the trail up the pass

Looking back after the first steep climb, we can see, in the bottom left, a piece of tarmacked road we had walked along to get here. The town of St Jean is behind the lumpy hill in the middle of the photo

The clouds started clearing as the sun rose higher 8am, 9am, 10am; and by this mid-morning point there was a beautiful sky, plenty of blue but still enough cloud to paint pretty patterns around the hilltops. It stayed this perfect weather the whole day, and it couldn’t have been better. The previous day, when Pat and Deb went across, they had been directed to use the road not this beautiful pass (“Route Napoléon”, it’s called) due to the weather. And the following day, Josse went across, and although he could use the pass it was low clouds and no views. I was extremely lucky with the weather for my walk.

Wispy clouds, waiting to give way to the sun, nestling in the valleys beneath me

It filled me with utter joy and inspiration. Everything that had been challenging before, whether blisters, weather, mud or slopes, was a trifle, a tiny downpayment for the right to experience this day in the Pyrenees.

The sun started clearing the clouds on the way up to Orisson

I was on form, in shape, blessed with the weather, in a place of mental elation. The 12km or so following Orisson continues the climb and apart from one or two very short, very intense parts, is overall an easier ascent than the earlier part to Orisson; and you reach 1,400m elevation at the highest point some 5km before Roncevaux. Here is the very steep descent, and then at the abbey you triumphantly arrive, full of pride and joy.

I enjoyed every moment of this walk, which I completed in almost exactly 7 hours including breaks and photo stops. It was hot with the sun, and because of the physical exertion I got through at least three litres of water (all of which left my body through perspiration: not one toilet break).

There's a lot of zoom on this photo, capturing from a distance a few pilgrims arriving at a local peak before turning left to the other side of the mountain

This selfie was shortly before arriving at Refuge Orisson

A lump of mountain below me, full of character, resembling perhaps a slumbering dragon

In the morning as the sun rose and the clouds started to clear we experienced both at the same time, with beautiful effect

The horizontal line is actually a cloud, not a vapour trail. It endured for a few hours

This is the "Orisson Virgin" - a notable waypoint but an unremarkable little statue. The soaring bird to her left is a Gryphon Vulture, with a wing span of over two metres

Although there was no snow on the pass we covered, we could see a long way down the range and many others have their peaks high enough to attract the white stuff

An obelisk marks the border between France and Spain

On the descent to Roncevaux I caught up with Anja and Josef. So they’d decided to go after all, and were delighted to have done so. We had a nice chat as we fair tumbled down the slopes and entered the abbey together. There is an entrance that says “Pilgrims only – no tourists” which we went through, head held high. They filtered the incoming pilgrims into those who wanted to stay in the gîte overnight and those who wanted just the permanent record via the Roncevaux Abbey stamp in the Credential. This is important, and a piece of credibility for the Spanish Camino, as many places apparently won’t accept you for lodging if you don’t have the Roncevaux stamp.

Roncevaux abbey is the dark roof nestling below us in the middle distance

Just before the descent into Roncevaux: I can't keep the smile off my face! My fashion accessory, which I wear on hot, sunny days, is a bandana under the cap. I expect the kids will start copying me

Serendipitously meeting Anja and Josef

The light shines from above on this happy pilgrim reaching the abbey at Roncevaux

After this we had a very satisfying beer in a local café and called a cab. Because we had faffed around with photos, stamps and beers, it was 4pm and cabs were all on the school run so we had to wait till 5pm. Oh dear, another beer. But then we were given a lift back, a hair-raising ride of 40 minutes speeding through hairpins and turning the stomach.

This, I think, is the most deserved beer I've ever drunk

Looking back on this day, words can’t really do justice to the inspirational vistas and beauty around me as I walked up hillsides and round peaks, each step seeming to bring a new view to my grateful eyes; so I will let the photos I took do most of the visual describing.

After a bit of late afternoon shopping in St Jean (the benefit of everything closing in the middle of the day is that they’re often open till 7pm or later) I collected my gear from Gure Lana and headed to the Hôtel des Pyrénées to check in. After freshening up and getting some stuff ready for my departure tomorrow (the rucksack now weighing 12 or 15kg after all the food in jars I bought) and catching up with Cat triumphantly and elatedly, I went down to meet up with my dinner companions.

Outside the hotel I saw Richard and Cathy approaching looking very chic. This is a gastronomic restaurant, previously of two Michelin stars but now (according to Christian, due to political reasons) of same quality but not officially Michelined, and we dress up the best we can. I had a 6kg total pack weight so the best I could do was long lightweight walking trousers and a reasonably clean sweater.

Cathy and Richard, arriving at St Jean the day after me

Richard and Cathy were better decked out: they had luggage sent to each location so had more options than I did. But we speculated a little about Josse. On each occasion that either they or I had eaten with him in the evening he had worn pyjama bottoms! Imagine turning up in pyjamas to a Michelin-starred restaurant. As we saw him ambling up the road to us we breathed a sigh of relief: he was wearing shorts. He later explained his options were lightweight pyjamas, heavier pyjamas, and shorts. We got the best available.

We enjoyed each other’s company, and talked about everything under the sun over dinner, but of course it was a time of reflection of the challenges and achievements too. I spoke a bit about my experience today and Josse, engaged and previously unsure, resolved firmly to do the Roncevaux leg tomorrow.

Josse approaching the Orisson refuge the day after me: you can see it was considerably wetter and gloomier. He sent me a text when he'd completed it (I was on the train home) saying "I'm looking for an enormous steak with chips cooked in duck fat and a bottle of red" - class!

One thing we talked about was our roots. This walk causes you to think about your place in the world and what purpose it serves, how you have got here and indeed where you might be going. Richard raised the topic about ancestors and I said “I know: sometimes I think to myself that some guy shagged a girl in a cave 40,000 years ago and a couple of hundred generations later, here I am”. Josse leaned forward, with his good but not perfect English, and said “Charles de Gaulle?”. I didn’t get it at first, but quickly realised that he had heard “shagged a girl” as “Charles de Gaulle” – absolutely priceless! I couldn’t stop laughing, we all couldn’t, and tears rolled down my cheeks. I was lucky that was the only emission, for the hilarity was one that barely allowed any fluid to stay in one’s body.

But all good things must come to the end, and so did this dinner, this evening, this perfect day, and the whole Chemin experience. It has been inspiring, brilliant, hard, rewarding and educational. It has been social and solitary. It has been a physical challenge and a spiritual liberator. It has been my Chemin, just as it has been, for others, theirs. I own it, and I’m proud of it.

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