SJPP to Roncesvalles - part 1

It's been difficult to know which language to start with on the first day of the Camino because we are in France, but Spanish is the language of the Camino, and as much as English is probably the common language with whoever I'm talking to, it feels super arrogant to launch straight in. Might just start screeching g'day at people so we all know where we stand.

After a truly rubbish night's laying still (sleep would be an overstatement, I think I called the jetlag triumph early) it was finally 6am and reasonable to get up. I joined some early risers in the kitchen, intermittently poking a hand out the window into the dark to confirm that it was still both cold and raining, and talking about what lay ahead. This, incredibly, involved a chat with an Australian guy about how much he likes bloody George Town. What on earth.

About 7.30am I was strapped and clicked and covered and on my way. Today is supposed to be the hardest day of the whole thing, which is probably a combination of soft new bodies, distance, and elevation. Adding rain was a genius move from the great sky dispenser, it added to the gravitas.

The elevation is all crammed into the second half so my plan, informed by a complete lack of competitive spirit and relative abundance of time, was to break the 27km into two days by staying at Valcarlos and do the hard bit tomorrow on fresh legs.

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