Tuesday, 11 April 2017

Over the Pyrenees.


It felt like the first tentative kiss of new lovers, the anticipation,  the brush of lips and the electricity that flows through one’s body; our first steps on the Camino de Santiago was exactly like this.

It began on the cobble stoned streets of St Jean Pied de Port, where the souls of pilgrims long pass hung, mist like whispering 'buen camino' as we trekked through villages and farmlets. Postcard like images greeted us as we made our ascent up the brutal beast of the Pyrenees. Muscle memory kicked into over drive, courtesy of the hours spent memorising the road up to Copelode Dam and we were rewarded by the sight of Albergue Orisson as it materialised, mirage like over the crest.

This would be our first experience of dorm sleeping since our travels way back in 1999, and with the knowledge that we had 35 more nights of it, we embraced it as necessary.  Our night at Orisson became one of pilgrim pass and as the wine flowed tales were shared and camino bonds were formed.

Day break greeted us with a blood orange sun, that drenched us in warmth as we made the climb to the summit. The path reads like a tribute to the recently departed pilgrims, who lost their way and life on the Camino.  The trek is body numbing as the Peregrino God beats you with chilling winds and groaning peaks, but also instills inspiration and rejuvenation.

Our steps took us to the protector of the Shepherds, Mother Mary; who sits on an out crop of rocks and protects all, as they pass her way.  Onward, we ascended through the last remnants of melting snow, across goat tracks and past rescue huts until our footsteps took us over to the Spanish border and into the valley of Roncevalles.  A monastery dating back to the 1700's awaited, along with a pilgrim mass; where prayers for our safe journey were given and received with gratitude.

So far, it has been a liberating experience and we look forward to the next 790 km!








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