But I did manage to get out alive. Set out for Roncesvalles on the other side of the pass and arrived at destination over 8 hours later. About 18 miles, but a lot of up and down, not particulary easy. The road started steep for the first 10 km or so of the total distance listed of 27. Don’t mess with the math. I think I did a bit more, allowing for a wrong turn or two. To be fair, the scenery ranged from pastoral to spectacular – pictures will come – and parts of “the way” were very manageable, allowing you to get into a nice rhythm.

A light rain began early and stayed with me for most of the hike. It would occassionally get a bit heavier, made worse by the fact it was a blowing rain. Elevation gain was 4500′ and the surface ranged from pavement, lightly traveled, to two track dirt, to several rather long stretches of loose stone, real potential for rolling an ankle, which I didn’t. In addition to the rain, fog descended early and never lifted. It was very disorienting. The blowing rain made the poncho mostly useless. Everything in the pack except for some electonics in a dry bag got pretty wet. I’m waiting for the dryer where I’m sleeping tonight to become available, though I’m afraid there may be more rain tomorrow. If so, I will try a more secure way of wrapping the poncho around the pack.

The accomodations I chose for tonight, and for most of the camino is a rather large hostel which is connected to a very old nunnery. I think that’s what I read, and I haven’t been out yet to walk the grounds. Volunteers from Holland, with very good command of English, manage the check-ins and bed assignments. This is nothing like what I had last night, sharing a room with six others. Tonight’s is a room lined with bunkbeds, but the price is very cheap and perhaps some of the youthful energy of these roommates will wear off on me.

For the record, I crossed the unsecured border, no fences, no passports checked, no visa, into Spain. My Espanol will serve me, and perhaps improve. I was lost trying to communicate in French. I’ve met so far folks from Vermont, France, England, Ireland, Colombia, Australia, and the Dominican Republic.

And for a joke. An Irishman, a fellow from the Dominican Republic, and an American walk into a bar – lost. “Can anyone tell us how to get to the Camino de Santiago?” The Irish fellow and the one from the DR were bicycling. I ran into them near the pass through the Pyrenees, and we found ourselve lost together, having missed a turn marker. Thankfully the guy from DR had good GPS and the Irishman had a great sense of humor.