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  • Day 5

    For Whom The Bell Tolls

    September 16, 2022 in France ⋅ ⛅ 21 °C

    This morning I woke to the sound of the bells tolling. It's a beautiful deep bell that reverberates through the valley. My bedroom window looks out towards the citadel which glowed in the dark through the night and feels very ancient.

    Today the bell tolls for my brother Cameron, who left us now six years ago. Cam would have loved a Camino and been the life of the trail. He was born a wise pilgrim. Miss you Cam and will carry you in my heart to Santiago.

    For Whom the Bell Tolls is a novel by Hemingway, written about Spain. Hemingway loved Pamplona, which is where I'm headed, on the other side of the Pyrenees.

    I wandered around town in the morning drizzle preparing for Day 1 of my Camino. The steep climb up the Pyrenees and down the other side seems to be the most talked about stage of the whole Camino and I've been completely unsure about my ability to do it. Most people break this day into two but with limited accommodation in the mountains I chose to try the walk up the hill then bus back to St Jean for another night.

    After finding out that you can't buy supplies until the shops open at ten, and dumping my pack for the day, I headed off with a rain coat, a jammon baguette and only the occasional drop of rain. I met Texas Jack early on at the first steep hill and we chatted for a while. He's got sixty days to do the trail just like me and also like me, he doesn't know his limits. He had his pack and I was probably at least ten years younger than him so I passed him by (that's right Darryn Crook, I've already passed someone and on a hill) but I think we'll meet again.

    A bit further along a pelegrin (Pilgrim in French) caught up to me and we walked a couple of kilometres together. His Camino name was Manolo, but he is South Korean. This is his sixth Camino Frances, his second this year. He is already my wise Camino sage and he taught me quite a lot in our two kilometres. After walking with him he said that I was walking the right pace and doing fine up the hills and could make it to Santiago no problems. New best friend.

    I climbed the next big hill to Huntto a little slower than Manolo but met him at the rest stop along with a gaggle of other pilgrims that I may meet again. I cancelled my bus down the hill, walked a little higher, then turned around and walked back to town. I was about 2km and an hour or so from the place everyone stays night 1. That two km is the steepest on the Camino. I know now I could have made it there. The five kilometres I did do was much easier than in my head.

    It was a beautiful day. The weather was perfect with warm refreshing rain just a little, but not enough to put my raincoat back on. I saw the mountains in the rain and mist and sunshine, heard the cow bells tinkle, saw views for miles my pictures can't capture, met friendly people from all over planet earth, and generally feel content and at peace.

    This is absolutely the place I need to be right now.

    "That is what we are supposed to do when we are at our best — make it all up — but make it up so truly that later it will happen that way" Hemingway
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