This is a view from one of the stone bridges in Saint Jean Pied de Port, France. It is a popular place to start the Camino Frances variant of the Camino de Santiago. This town can be tricky to get to. I bussed there from San Sebastian and felt lucky to have made it alive and unharmed. The busses wind along high, narrow, curvy roads. Many cyclists share the road, and it is a law that vehicles passing bikes must cross over the center line, or so I was told. This is terrifying because the driver has to trust that there are no other vehicles, especially equally large and difficult-to-stop vehicles, coming the other way behind the cliffs. And, of course, all vehicles on the road traveled at top speed. I made peace with the idea that I might not make it because I would have at least been doing something I loved. But, I made it. The highway to hell delivered me to this pretty town that began a physically and mentally tough adventure that is still not over.
SJPDP looks a bit like the Shire from Lord of the Rings. I couldn't tell if its festive feeling was a celebration of a new beginning or a memorial of our last day of comfort. People excitedly loaded up on French food to provide energy for the next day's hike over the Pyrenees and took the opportunity to purchase supplies for the walk that they may have forgotten at home. I bought a spork and took advantage of the cakes and ice cream that provided carbs for the walk to Roncesvalles.
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