Thursday 6 October 2016

Day 40 October 5 Larceveux to St Jean Pied-de-Port

21 km 415 ascent 387 descent 5 hr. 19⁰C

Pilgrimage Total

814.3 km 16,520 ascent 16,595 descent 187 hr.

The dinner was quite good last night, and we managed to sleep really well. Everything was in plastic and I checked a few times and there was no evidence of bed bugs.

The hotel owner was really very nice. It was a good breakfast, and we then took coffee outside to wait for our 8:30am taxi. It never arrived. At 8:40am we talked about this with the owner. He said we should hurry, there was a bus to Larceveux leaving from the church at 8:49am that got there at 9:12am. It cost 2 euro each. The cab was going to cost 30 euro. Why didn’t La Pelerine tell us about the bus?

We were concerned about abandoning the cab since it was supposedly arranged, and I was worried our bags might end up in Larceveux instead of St. Jean Pied de Port. If we took off, which we would have to do now, and missed the bus, and in the meantime our cab arrived and we weren’t there, well, that would be a problem. Instead we called La Pelerine, but Alexiane didn’t start until 9am. I got the hotel owner to call and talk to the other lady in French. Nothing could be straightened out until Alexiane arrived. There was no record of the cab being ordered.

When Alexiane arrived at the office she confirmed she should have reserved a cab, they ordered a cab, and it would be there soon. That’s what happens when you start changing things at the last minute. A lady finally arrived in an unmarked car. It was the cab drivers wife. She was recruited to drive the pilgrims to Larceveux. Good thing she didn’t have anything else she was supposed to be doing. I must say though that I was happy we got the cab drivers wife and not the cab driver. The ride was very civilized, and I never saw my life flash before my eyes.

At first she pulled over on the D933 and was going to drop us off there. The GR65 cut the highway there, so it seemed like it was a good choice. She was still partially on the road, they don’t believe in shoulders in France any more than they do in Italy. A lot of cars were going by honking their horns and swerving to avoid her and the oncoming traffic. I suppose slowing down never crossed their minds. I was a bit afraid to take off my seat belt in case we got hit, so I asked if she could drop us off at the Hotel Espellet instead. She agreed and we merged back on the highway in the midst of a lot of horn blowing.

When we got to Hotel Espellet, she said her husband had told her the ride was free because of the mix-up. We gave her 10 euro anyway, which she seemed happy enough to take. We got there around 10am, 50 minutes later and 6 euro more than the bus. Not too bad, but lesson learned.

The Hotel Espellet looked like everything we had come to expect. It was probably very grand in its day, but it was very run down and needing work. I’m glad we didn’t stay there.

As I’ve mentioned, I had prepared detailed maps of coming in and going out of each village we stayed in at home before we left. I was trying to avoid bad memories from Italy of spending hours trying to find our hotel. Russell and I got into another argument about how to go. I wanted to get back onto the GR65 based on my map, versus his GPS. I told him, sometimes I know what to do.

As it turned out, I was right. The problem with the GPS was that we had to go in the wrong direction at first, because the hotel was off the GR65. Yikes!

It was a lovely walk into St. Jean Pied-de-Port today. The Pyrenees were constantly there in front us, and we had the usual mountain top views of the landscape below, thanks to climbing several hills.



The weather today was perfect for going fast, 19⁰C.

We passed a fellow sitting eating what looked like a raisin danish about a km from Gamarthe. He looked like a real jock. By this time I had to go to the bathroom and I was on the lookout for a good place to go. There was nothing on the Micheline guide for a long way and I knew the jock probably wasn’t too far behind us. As we were entering the village, we happened upon a lovely Pilgrim rest stop.  Russell was ahead of me and went sailing by, so I had to yell at him to come back.

The pilgrim from France (the water bottle guy) was there. It was a take what you like sort of deal, with a cookie tin for donations. There was a fridge with soft cheese and milk. Cake, coffee, and tea. There was also an outhouse. Hooray.  The place also had a litter of 4 kittens that were absolutely adorable. 

Portugalot back from the outhouse, the jock was there. He is from Portugal, and walked to Santiago a year or so ago along a route from Portugal that merged onto the French Way around Puenta La Reine. This year he started from some place east of Le Puy, and was going to walk to Puenta la Reine, if he had enough time. A very nice fellow, very handsome and he spoke English.

He was having a pot of the soft cheese, and one of the kittens was trying desperately to get some of it. Mommy cat arrived a bit later and all the kitties clamored all over themselves getting to her. She herded them into a chair and they all had some mommy milk.




We left first, and I expected he would pass us shortly.

We were getting into the serious climbing part of the journey today, and we started running into all the familiar pilgrims. We passed the French guy, the Spanish guys, several pilgrims we met at the meet and greet in Navarrenx, the 5 vegetarians, the fellow who found my wallet and his wife (who were now travelling with a good half dozen other ladies). Everyone said we were running, but Russell said this was the speed we always walked at.

At one point on a mountain, we ran into a herd of sheep going from one field to another. 


We stood off to the side and watched them funnel by. This procession, of course, resulted in a lot of fresh sheep poop all over the road.

I discovered there was a new dimension to my cow manure theory. The theory we put forth on the Spanish part of the Camino was that, when you first started out fresh in the morning, you totally avoided the cow manure, as you got more tired you became less inclined to go out of your way to miss it, and when you were totally exhausted, you walked right through it. With these sheep passing, I came to realize that, no matter how fresh or how tired you are, there are times when you can’t avoid walking in the manure, no matter how hard you try.

At St-Jean-le-Vieux, we stopped and ate our lunch at a bench outside the old church. These benches are not constructed in a manner that allows you to level anything on them! Of course we also went in and visited the church. It was lovely.

I just knew the Spanish guys would be stopped at a bar for some liquid refreshment for lunch, and we passed them again as we were leaving, drinking their beers.

Just 4 km left to go on our pilgrimage. We were feeling very nostalgic about being in St. Jean Pied de Port again. We could see the route we took up the Pyrenees 3 years ago as we approached. This time, as we entered we went past the Citadel. It was a long climb up to the top, and the Way took us half way up, so we took a detour and finished the climb up to the Citadel and wandered around the park. There is a high school there, and after walking over a bridge, that would have been a drawbridge back in the day, we saw some students sitting smoking on the rampart (two very dangerous things to do – one in the long run and the other in the short run). There was a sign saying no entry – except for students.



We wandered around for a bit, and then exited via the stairs we had climbed up and carried on. In ten minutes we were at the Porte de St. Jacques, our journey complete.

The fellow from Portugal arrived, and we took turns taking pictures of each other under the portal. I said, ‘I thought you were going to pass us’, and he said, ‘yes, but you go at a very good pace’. I think he likes to stop frequently.



We stopped at the Centre de Pellerins, where we had started on the Camino three years ago, and got our passports stamped. The fellow from Hamburg we met yesterday at the snack bar in Larribar was there, and the agent was spending a lot of time explaining everything under the sun to him, none of which seemed to be registering. I wonder about him. Can he really be that clueless, or is he very needy and likes the attention.

There was a very long line of pilgrims, and I was feeling trapped and claustrophobic in there. I gave my passport to Russell and said I was going to the hotel. I’ve been fretting all day about the bags getting messed up because we changed our itinerary.

When I got to the hotel, the bags were there. Hallelujah. The lady said, you are just picking up your bags, not staying, right. When they arrived, she noticed we had cancelled our room for Oct 6. I said yes, we did cancel our room for Oct 6 and were going to just pick up our bags, but this is Oct 5, and we have a new reservation for today. There was a long delay, she made some phone calls. I was getting a bit annoyed. I then clarified that the new reservation had been made just a couple of days ago. She said, oh. She then said, I have rooms, that isn’t a problem. I guess she was worried about who would pay.

Anyway, after a lot of humming and hawwing she finally found the new reservation, and all was well. The room wasn’t ready (it was 2:30pm), so we said we would go sit at the bar, and fished all sorts of stuff out of our suitcases. She seemed to find that amusing. I asked her if we could wash our boots. She said she would give us a pail and a scrub brush, and we could go down to the river. I thanked her and said we would do it later.

At 3:40pm she told us the room was ready, and we brought everything up. There is an elevator, which Russell was very happy about. We are on the second floor and he is having a major problem with his back. Unfortunately I’m no help with lugging the bags around (not totally true, if I bring it up, I pull it up the stairs one at a time on the wheels, resting after every step).

Before having a shower, we went back down and got the promised bucket and brush and went down to the river to clean our boots. That all went well. When we got back Russell was about to open his suitcase and I suggested he wash his hands first. The boots were covered with, among other things, fresh sheep poop from today.

As far as hotels go, this is certainly among the nicest we have stayed at. It is way better than the hotel Ramuncto we stayed at when we were here in 2013, except for the balcony. I looked at the Hotel Ramuncto as we passed through today, and the room we had in 2013 seems to be the only room with a balcony. We loved sitting out on that balcony, looking at the Pyrenees we would climb the next morning, and watching the sun set.

The dinner was nice here, a lovely soup to start; Russell had chicken and rice and I had veal with chips (the veal had a lemon sauce which made the whole thing taste like lemon meringue pie- a bit strange); and Basque pie for dessert. We splurged, and for our celebratory ‘we have arrived’ dinner we had a lovely bottle of St. John Pied de Port white wine – excellent.

We have noticed over the last week or so, forestry people out cutting the tops off the Plane trees. We have been wondering why they would do that – if there was something wrong with them! The lady in the hotel explained to us that they do it every year between now and December. They will grow back next year.

Jim finally posted an update to his blog yesterday about his journey climbing the Pyrenees. I was very happy to hear that it went very well, and it sounds like it was as meaningful for him as it was for us, when we did it. He also told us the lovely flower is a "passion flower" - the centre is the cross and the surrounding ring the crown of thorns. Thanks, Jim!

Once again, we can’t believe that 34 days of walking have elapsed! The time has just sped by. In total, we walked 814.3 km and climbed 16.5km (as recorded by the GPS). That is remarkably close to the 19.7 km we climbed walking 787km on the via Francigenia last year. There was a lot more climbing on the portion of the Camino in France than on the Spanish portion.

It will take time to fully appreciate the personal and spiritual significance of walking this ancient pilgrimage route. In particular, I think I’ve managed to achieve a new level of acceptance and peace with getting laid off. However, we did notice that it seemed less spiritual walking this portion of the Camino than it did walking to Santiago. Of course Santiago is the ultimate destination of the Camino, and where St. James is supposed to rest, which may contribute to it. Also, the churches in Spain are much more numerous and beautiful than in France, the French Revolution likely having a lot to do with that. I think also that we were more isolated on this journey because of our language. Most other pilgrims here were French, whereas there was a greater mix of languages on the Spanish portion (putting us all on a more level playing field). However, as I have always said, it is not the destination, but the journey that is important.

This is the 4th time we have walked an ancient pilgrimage route. As we have experienced on every journey, the scenery was magnificent; we visited/experienced/ walked past endless sites with major religious, historical, cultural, and archeological significance; we experienced some thin places; there were highly spiritual moments; we felt a special bond with the other pilgrims we met along the way, this time, especially with Jim; we stayed in some very nice places (proportionately more here); met some very nice people; and once again, the weather was very favorable in the sense that it only rained three times, and only once was it a real downpour. It was a bit hotter than ‘normal’, nothing like the oppressive heat in Italy, but I think this is the new ‘normal’.

So concludes our journey, and our blog. Off now to vacation in Germany.



Tuesday 4 October 2016


Day 39 October 4 Lichos to St. Palais

26 km 551 ascent 624 descent 6:26 hr. 27⁰C

Nice breakfast, absolutely lovely b&b. Left at 8am. The fellow we thought was german but now are convinced is French, was leaving from his gite just beside our b&b.

We talked a bit then he said, bonne chemin tired of trying to communicate

It really is lovely walking now with the Pyrenees looming large in the background. There was mist hanging the valleys making for a magnificent landscape.



We had no supplies with us except a grapefruit, Russell’s beef bourguignon dinner, and a granole bar. We passed no stores yesterday, and there was nothing where we stayed last night. We knew this in advance, but we were supposed to pass through Aroue-Ithorots-Olhaiby after 3km today, and it had a picnic basket on the guide (symbol for grocery). We were going to get our lunch for today there. Unfortunately, coming into that town we were walking along a very busy highway with virtually no shoulder (memories of Italy), and the GR65 cut off from the highway well before the town. We could add on another km of walking along that highway and another km walking back, or forget about the store. There were no other services shown along the Way today. We were only supposed to walk a total of 18km today, so we decided we could do that and eat at a restaurant in St. Palais when we got here.

Our Micheline guide didn’t show much climbing until later along the Way today, so when we started doing some major steep climbs, I was wondering where we were on the map. Going up a particularly steep incline, I noticed the cows on a distant hill were all on a slant. It made me think of Emily Dickinson, and her poem, ‘Tell all the truth but tell it slant’. ‘The truth must dazzle gradually or every man be blind.’

We caught up to the blonde lady from France we met yesterday. We were at the top of a hill with an incredible 360⁰ view. 



She said she was reading a book and the author said ‘walking was like painting a landscape’. We all spent some time admiring the glorious view. We asked her what kind of pate she and her Aussie friend had last night. She said the Aussie lady was a bit strange. I laughingly said, we’re all a bit strange, or we wouldn’t be doing this. She got a look on her face like she had disappeared into another universe. I don’t think she had ever considered the possibility she herself might be strange!

At one point we passed a farm where a number of ducks were gathered around a white van.  One duck was nibbling at the rear door.  When they saw us they seemed to put their wings in their pockets and tried to act very duck like.  Russell thinks they were planning to take the van and escape.



More ups and downs, and I asked Russell what km our GPS said we were at. The route really just didn’t seem to be syncing with the guide. Finally we got to a sign saying we were 15 minutes from Olhaiby, which is at km 7 according to our guide, but we were already at km 10. Obviously another case of them redirecting the GR65.


First we caught up to the airline stewardess and her 4 companions, then we caught up to the Belgiums.  We took turns taking group photos at a lovely lookout. Today was the 42nd anniversary of one of the Belgium couples, and last week was the 40th anniversary of the other. I did the math, and realized that my brother and sister in-law also celebrated 42 years in September, so they got married about the same time. Russell and I are at 23 years. We should live so long as to hit our 42nd anniversary! Maybe. The German fellow at Morlanna told us that if you could walk the Camino, you were very healthy. Maybe heart healthy – but there are a lot of other things that can kill you (not to be too negative).


Twice today we passed a sign saying go this way if you are going to St. Palais. I’m sure that ignoring them caused us a lot of extra kilometers.

We got to a place we thought was Larribar-Sorhapuru, which was supposed to be at km 13 but we were now at 19 km.  We kept following the GR65, and then we arrived at a town called Larribar, which had a Tienda a go-go. This was a van parked along the road serving snacks. Most of her snacks were pretty weird, blood sausage, lamb something or other, …, . She had an omlette , which sounded safe enough, so we ordered that to share and got two cold drinks. There was a young girl from Lyon there with a young fellow from Hamburg she had recently met. He was going to start the Camino at St. Jean Pied-de-Port and go to Santiago. He had flown to Toulouse and was hitch hiking his way to St. Jean Pied-de-Port, when he met the girl from Lyon. She was talking him into starting now, since he was on the GR65, and he could build up to the 1200 meter climb going to Roncevalles. He had a map, which he just didn’t seem to be able to read. We told him to just follow the red/white GR markers and then the scallop shells. I don’t know, but I got the feeling he was going to have a bit of a problem.

St. Palais was billed as 5km from Larribar-Sorhapuru, and I was getting a bit concerned about the distance today. We crossed over a bridge, good, and we were supposed to follow the sign to Stele de Gibraltor. I found a very homemade sign to La Stele, and we went up to the monument, and then had a bit of a fight over where to go next. His GPS was saying one thing, and the research I had done was saying another. We followed his GPS another short distance, and then came to a very definitive sign saying to go the way I wanted to Stele de Gibraltor.

We went that way, and after a while Russell agreed that was the proper way to go.

When we finally got to St. Palais, it was a very nice city. I was thinking that for Macs to send us 5km off the GR65 to this place, there must be some good reason. Ostabat-Asme is where virtually all the other pilgrims are going today.

Our Hotel Midi looks really nice, but the hotel room itself is not the reason! It’s very small and I think there are fleas in the carpet. Russell disagrees, but he likes to live in denial. Perhaps the food is really good?

Day 38 October 3 Navarrenx to Lichos


15.9 km 225 ascent 238 descent 3:46 hr. 24⁰C

Breakfast was a bit of a zoo with all the people, and the host getting tea or coffee, etc. There were several boxes of cereal, which Russell managed to empty before I got a chance at any of them, and then the fellow said, either take some cereal out of your husband’s bowl, or I have some muesli if you like. The alternative was chocolate puffs or all bran so I was very happy it had run out.

I wanted the host to talk to the baggage transfer fellow about us getting a ride Wednesday morning, but he pointed out just talking to the driver doesn’t work. It could be a different driver. He thought we should call La Pelerine, but said he would call if we wanted. I said I would call La Pelerine later.

I did manage to catch the baggage transfer fellow when he came for the bags, but he was unilingual French and gave me the card for the taxi company. He did say it could be arranged though.

We did some sightseeing in Navarrenx before leaving. We wanted to wait for a bakery or something to open to get lunch, but it was Monday and absolutely everything in this town was closed. Monday in France for a tourist is worse than Sunday.

Navarrenx was a Bastide town. We visited the amphitheater, which was built into the ramparts. There was an escape tunnel in the rampart where the inhabitants could run if the village was besieged.



We finally came to realize that no stores were going to open, so went to a restaurant and we each got a ham and cheese sandwich to take away. I thought when I saw them we should have only gotten one, but forgot about 4pm snack time.

It seemed in the end that we were the first to actually leave the city. Between the meet and greet at the church and staying at the Relais, we seemed to recognize all the pilgrims in town, who were also milling about sightseeing.

Just like coming in to town, the houses were lovely going out of time. Seems like Navarrenx is a going concern.

We saw a very stunning flower 



and a Pom pom tree 


leaving town.

We entered a forest and saw signs saying Attention – Pompiers; and, Pompiers – Silence. We weren’t too sure what that was all about so looked it up on the internet later. They were catching pigeons!

Going through the woods we came upon a lady from Australia who was sitting on the ground airing her feet, which were covered in dressings. All preventative she said. She had started the Camino from Le Puy in May but got foot inflammation and had to rest for two months (she didn’t go home to Australia). She restarted and will go as far as she can to Santiago.

Further on, we passed a blonde lady, who talked about how magnificent the journey was. She had a very British accent and spoke perfect English, but said she was from France.

There were no services shown in the guide today the whole way, including where were stopping tonight. So we were very happy to go by picnic tables outside a farm, where the fellow was selling cold drinks and several of his farm products. This consisted mainly of pates (with without mushroom): deer; foie gras; duck; pigeon; etc.

We stopped for a drink and shared one of our sandwiches. There were lots of pilgrims there, and the Aussie lady and French lady each showed up while we were there. From the conversation, I asked if they were companions on the journey. They said they had just met on the Way, and were going more or less the same way and speed, so were staying at the same places. The Aussie lady removed her boots and socks again while there.

We carried on, and very close to Lichos we met up with the German (water) pilgrim again. We all exchanged greetings and kept on.

We noticed today that were several occasions when we passed the same pilgrims sitting about at picnic tables. I suppose if you stay at gites which don’t open until 3pm, you might as well take your time.

We found our B&B for tonight. It was a beautiful place. Very elegant and clean, and nicely furnished. There was another pool, and it was quite warm today, but the lady said she had closed it for the season at the end of September.

We sat outside, where we took off our boots and left our poles, and she gave us a beer. She told us her husband had fallen out of a tree, 2 metres above the ground, last year and had hit his head. He was taken by helicopter to the hospital and hasn’t been the same since. He can’t talk, read, or write, and wanders off and gets lost. It has been very difficult for her. This was all communicated in French, her English is slightly worse than our French.

There are four or five rooms upstairs, with one bathroom (it says on our accommodation guide that tonight has shared bathroom facilities), but we are the only guests. We have a lovely balcony off our bedroom, but it was right in the sun and there was table out there, so we didn’t use it for anything but our laundry.

I called La Pelerine and Alexiane said she would arrange everything and e-mail me. She did as promised and I thanked her. Unfortunately she asked for a confirmation of receipt of the e-mails, and the internet connections we get here won’t usually allow outgoing e-mails to be sent.  This has my outlook totally hung up now, trying to send these confirmations, and they’re not in the outbox where I can delete them. Grrr.

It was an excellent supper; tomatoes with soft mozzarella cheese and hard boiled eggs; ratatouille and a veal chop (smothered in paprika, we think); cheese; and the famous Basque pie.

Her cell phone had decided not to work and this was causing her a lot of grief, so asked us about it – who knew nothing- and then called either her son or son-in-law. There was a lot of marching about, with the husband intow and there small dog. It was quite hilarious really to watch them all file around one after the other. At one point she went off in the van with the son, leaving the husband with us. He came in, picked our knives, wiped them off with our napkins, and left again. He has a few problems all right. But seems like a very sweet person.

I asked the women if they had a farm, and she said no, her husband was a functionary, working at the Marie (city Hall).

I had one my best sleeps here. It was pitch black, very quiet, and the idea of bed bugs never entered my mind.

Day 37 October 2 Maslacq to Navarrenx


23 km 489 ascent 459 descent 5:37 hr. 21⁰C

Breakfast was at 8am this morning. I slept very badly, and opened the patio doors wide open as soon as the alarm went off. Took everything out of the plastic and thanked God it wasn’t needed.

The Belgium’s were there when we went to breakfast. I felt a bit bad, I brought tea bags from home for my morning tea, but had just used my last one. Thankfully, the tea bags were very accessible at this breakfast, and I only needed 3 more. I took two, with, it seemed to me, everyone watching. I asked Russell to get one too. Now, I am all set! 

I asked the young lady in charge of breakfast if Chantal was coming, and she said no. I asked the Belgium people where they were staying over the next few days. We may not see them again until St Jean Pied-de-Port. We are all booked at Hotel Central on Oct 5.

Once again we were the first to leave. Early on, we walked through a corn alley again. We then passed what I assume was the Chapelle Notre Dame de Muret, a ruin of an earlier Chapel.

Up a major climb of least 120 meters, but we now had an excellent view of the industrial complex we saw from the other side yesterday. 



We think it may be a meat processing plant. There appears to be a lagoon to handle the blood, and a very new and clean steel plant to efficiently process the rest. Russell can’t find any further intelligence on what is happening there on the internet.

We stopped for coffee at Sauvelade, where people seemed to be finishing up after an all-night party. We stopped at a restaurant and ordered coffee so as to be able to use the WC. There were 3 guys from Spain drinking beer with their eggs and toast, which they followed with bourbon in their coffee.

My wallet seems to have fallen out of my backpack at some point of rearranging things, but after we left, a fellow pilgrim from France we have met along the Way came after me, and gave it to the Spanish guys who were closer behind us. It only had money in it (ie, no credit cards or bank cards), but it was much appreciated.

We figured out we weren’t following the Micheline guide today, although we seemed to be following the GPS.   I decided we must have been going via Bugnein instead of Laborte (as per the Michelin guide). I asked a young fellow on a bike, who might have been around 10 years old, where we were. I showed him alternatives on my map, he said Bugnein. He also then launched off into a great dissertation in French, which I took to say, ‘it’s all a descent from here on’.

It is really hilly now, with the Pyrenees in the background, and vultures flying around.

We entered a forest again, and saw trucks and signs indicating some sort of hunting was going was on. 



We then ran into 6 or 7 men in orange vests with rifles and figured out they were hunting wild boar. As we passed, I put up my arms to say ‘don’t shoot’.

It was becoming very hot and there was a lot of road walking, without an acceptable shoulder. My left foot was not happy.

Walking in to Navarrenx we passed Meritein, what looked like a very upscale and rich suburb. When we reached Navarremx, it too was very nice, and we passed a medieval rampart. This is a Bastide town.



tonightno problem finding Le Relais du Jacquet, where we stay tonight. It is a flat. Very large and spacious apartment. The fellow told us our bags were here at 9am yesterday. He didn’t expect us until today, and called La Pelegrin, thinking it was his mistake, and wondering what to feed us. Funny they didn’t figure out the problem! No wonder our bags didn’t arrive in Maslacq until 5:30pm yesterday!

The room had a washing machine, so we washed everything and hung it up to dry outside. Unfortunately it was late by the time we washed it and it didn’t get much time to dry outside before we had to bring it in. Still, it was nice to get to wash everything in a machine.

There was a pilgrim meet and greet at the Church of Sainte Germaine at 6pm. We went, knowing it would all be in French. There were prayers, followed by a discussion of the history of the church, a tour, and then we went to another place for appertifs. The church was built in 1562 and became protestant a year later in 1563. Louis XIII gave it back to the Catholique Church in 1800. It’s a very beautiful church, and very well used.


Some of the people at the flats tonight are vegetarian, so our host prepared a vegetarian meal. We had a nice (it was either pea or squash) soup to start; a vegetable lasagna; followed by salad (a bit of a weird order but I was very happy to have it on the menu regardless of the order); cheese; and then seminolina with ice cream for dessert. The fellow has a wedding ring on, and I asked if his wife cooked, and he said they were getting divorced and she had never participated in the Relais. I get the feeling he is not happy about the split.

The dinner was a bit of a strain for us, because we were the only English. There was the vegetarian group of 5 pilgrims from France. One of them was an airline stewardess with Lufthansa out of Germany, and she spoke English, another French couple, a single lady from France, and the host, who spoke very good English. He was directing where everyone sat, and put Russell and I fairly far apart so we couldn’t just sit and ignore everyone else (which the other French couple seemed to get away with).

It was a nice meal, we had a lively and good conversation with the stewardess, who apparently flies to Japan a lot, and we told her we were thinking of going there next on a pilgrimage to shrines.

We had a very nice sleep, not too concerned about bed bugs here.

Monday 3 October 2016


Day 36 October 1 Pomps to Maslacq


19.1 km 219 ascent 316 descent 4:50 hr. 18⁰C

The accommodation last night has seen a better day. It was very large and grand, but needed a lot of work. We had no internet connection there, which didn’t really matter that much because we got there late and were worn out from walking almost 34km that day, so we didn’t work on the blog anyway. Now we are behind in the blog, which is why we haven’t posted anything for a few days.

The couple was really nice though, we had a very nice breakfast, and this time the lady drove us. I knew that meant that it wouldn’t be a thriller ride.

The man had picked us up in Larreule yesterday. He was supposed to pick us up in Pomp’s, which we calculated would have been after 38km from Miramont-Sensacq. As it turns out, by our GPS, it would have been at least 41km. Thank God we didn’t go along with that. This morning, we could have gone back to Larreule to start, but it was raining, we were worn out from yesterday, and I thought the man was going to drive us (it had been a real adventure yesterday, and it wasn’t raining then). There wasn’t a very direct route to Larreule from Morlanne, but there was a fairly direct route to Pomp’s. So we decided to start from Pomp’s today (8km further along the Way than Larreule).

It started raining very early in the morning, and wasn’t raining too hard when we left. When we got to the drop off location, it started to rain more heavily, and by the time we got ready with our backpacks and ponchos on, it was a full out thunder storm. I felt sorry for the lady, because she was just standing out the rain getting soaked while we got assembled.

We walked in heavy rain for a while, and were in the woods (you don’t really want to stand under a tree in a thunder storm), so when we got an opportunity to be somewhat protected beside an abandoned barn, we took it. When the rain seemed to slow down a bit, we started walking again.


We are now in the foothills of the Pyrenees, with lots of climbing. There was a rather mighty steep climb up to Castillon and we decided to visit the church, partially to get out of the rain. The church lights were out. Often the lights are on a motion detector, but that didn’t seem to be the case here. Russell looked for a switch, but couldn’t find one. Maybe they were out because of the storm? Anyway, we just left.

We noticed the GR65 headed off on a 4km path through the woods to Arthez-de-Bearn, whereas via the highway, the sign said it was 3km to get there. We took the path, but it was very muddy and slippery because of the rain, so at the first opportunity, when the path crossed the highway, we took the road the rest of the way to Arthez-de-Bearn. The highway was very winding and gravelly, but it was nothing compared to the dangerous roads we walked along in Italy. We arrived safe and sound, and saved some distance.

The city looked a bit grim walking in, but improved and we passed lovely houses walking out. They had a Saturday market all set up in the center of town. We went to a bar/restaurant and got a coffee and muffin (the price of using the washroom). There was a truck cooking and serving pizza at the market, and Russell went over and got us each a piece of pizza for lunch. It was presented ready to eat, not wrapped for transport, so we bundled it up for later using the resources we had at hand. I wondered if he couldn’t have told her it was to transport, and she might have wrapped it up a whole lot better. Men hate to ask for anything.

We are now passing a lot of farms and homes with solar panels. Good for France.


We were walking on a ridge for a while walking out of Arthez-de-Bearn and saw some very big industrial plant(s) below. We’re not sure what it is.

We walked down through a forest which was supposed to pass another town called Mirabel, but we never saw a sign for it. This could be because the route was going a different way, there seems to be a lot of that! At any rate, we passed through a corn alley in the valley coming up to Argagnon. Very nice homes along this stretch, some very modern.

We then crossed a large river, Gave de Pau, walked past a very large old church we didn’t try to go into, got on to a path behind a guard rail along the busy D817 and then crossed it, and took an overpass over the A64. We also passed over railway tracks which seemed to be going to Bayonne. We will need to watch and see if we pass by here on the train going back to Paris from St. Jean Pied-de-Port.

We got to our hotel Maugouber around 1:30pm, and nobody was here. The sign said someone would arrive at 6:30pm. I then remembered I had a door code to get in. We came in, there were keys left out for some guests, but not us. We sat at some tables outside the closed bar and ate our pizza lunch we had brought. The napkin I had wrapped it in was stuck onto the cheese and very hard to remove. It probably would have been really good if we had eaten it when we got it. It was still pretty good, and we had half a bag of green olives we added to it, so I really enjoyed it.

After lunch, I started working on the blog. While in the hotel, I noticed the password for the wifi and checked my e-mails first. I had received an e-mail from La Pelerin yesterday. It said we would have to walk 35km to St. Jean Pied-de-Port from St. Palais on Oct 5, and did we want to do that or should they find us a different guest house in Larceveux? Grrr. I thought I had made it plain when I talked to them that we would get to St. Jean Pied-de-Port one way or another from St. Palais, and I wanted a room at St. Jean Pied-de-Port on Oct 5. I think the issue was that when talking to them yesterday, they said there was nowhere else to stay in Larceveux, and now it seems they had figured out there was another guest house. I didn’t have the ability to send e-mails at that point, so I called and told them to book us a room at St. Jean Pied-de-Port. She said okay. I really like the idea of staying at St. Jean Pied-de-Port instead of Larceveux on Wednesday, and want to make sure that happens.

Some village people noticed us and alerted the hotel owner, who eventually came over to see what we were doing. She apologized for her attire, saying she had been picking mushrooms. She had no record of a reservation for us. I showed her our list of accommodation and she said not to worry, and gave us a room, and said she would provide us dinner. Whew. There is no other restaurant in this town. She said the hotel restaurant is closed, but she has other pilgrims staying overnight on demi board (ie, that she has to feed).

The next issue was our baggage, which wasn’t here. She called the transport company, and left a message. We were concerned about where they ended up if there wasn’t a reservation for us here. She thought we should call La Pelerine, so I did, and told them about the problem with the hotel today not having a reservation from us, and our bags weren’t there. La Pelerine’s main concern was whether they had a room for us tonight. If not, I suppose she would have had to do something with us! Anyway, I asked her to please check into what was going on with the bags.

At 4:45pm Chantal came and knocked on our door and told us she had received a message from the transport service and our bags would be here at 5:15pm.

It’s a darn good thing we have arranged it so we are staying at St. Jean Pied-de-Port on Wednesday. If this mix-up with the bags had happened next Thursday when we have to take a train at 4pm, we would have had a real problem.

I talked to the baggage taxi fellow when he finally came at 5:30pm, and tried to find out if there had been a problem. He was unilingual French, and all I could get out of him was that there was no problem. 

There was a pool at the Hotel Maugouber we were staying at tonight. Our accommodation notes hadn’t indicated that. Our room had a lovely patio outside we were sitting at, and our Belgium friends from Miramont –Sensacq were also staying here. Soon after they arrived, they went for a swim. I had started bringing my bathing suit in my backpack on days we had a pool, but hadn’t today, because I didn’t know. Then, by the time the bags finally arrived, it was too late to go for a swim. Opportunity lost.

The supper was excellent. We began with some of the mushrooms Chantal had been picking this afternoon, served raw in a butter, herb and pepper sauce. Delicious. I was a bit concerned, but I’m sure she knows her mushrooms, and hasn’t killed any hotel guests yet. This was followed by a melon ball salad, then pork and pineapple in a cream sauce with rice, followed by almond tarte for dessert – a Basque specialty.

The room was a bit questionable, and I am probably a bit sensitive now because of Jim’s message. I put everything in plastic. Another more major problem was that the room had a very objectionable odour. This was another case where the only thing that can be opened was a patio door (which we had opened all afternoon), but we had to close it overnight, or someone could just walk in. I really didn’t sleep well. 

Sunday 2 October 2016


Day 35 September 30 Miramont-Sensacq to Larreule


33.6 km 719 ascent 683 descent 8:42 hr. 28⁰C

Well whatever gave Russell an upset stomach hit me at 11:30pm and I was up and down until 2:30 am. I wasn’t happy about the lack of a good night’s sleep before a big day today.

I checked my e-mail in the morning and had message from Jim saying he had run into bed bugs at Hotel Espellet in Larceveau, just in case we were staying there too. I looked it up and sure enough that is where we were booked to stay on our last night, Oct 5, the day before we arrive at St. Jean Pied-de-Port. Wouldn’t that be just great to pick up bed bugs the last night of the Camino!

I planned to call La Pelerin later that day and tell them we didn’t want to stay at Hotel Espellet.

I also hadn’t been able to view Jim’s blog for the last several days, but managed to connect last night, and I wanted to talk to him about his latest posts. What with his leg problems and having to take a few days of rest, he had posted ‘some days you have to struggle with your own demons and doubts’. Something he said next triggered the torment and grief I have endured related to getting laid off from Bell as opposed to being able to finish out my career and retire happily. I know in my head that I wasn’t laid off because I was a poor employee, rather it was because my skill set no longer matched what the Company needed. The reality is that we live in a world now where most people will not work for the same company their entire career, but will have many different employers. Pension plans are rapidly disappearing, being replaced by individual savings plans for retirement. Still, it is hard for the heart to accept what the head knows to be true. Ultimately, you have to learn to live with the disappointment and grief.

I am firmly convinced that the Camino is a place where God puts together people struggling with similar issues. It is very healing to share with someone who understands.

We had one of those rare internet connections that allow me to both send and receive e-mails, so I sent off a message to Jim thanking him for the heads up on the bed bugs and sharing some of my experience at Bell. Between that and my having been up half the night, we were a bit late to breakfast at 7:30am. It was another bread and jam breakfast, at least with yogurt, and we were the first to leave (as usual).

Walking has become much more enjoyable again. Lots of hills now, but with the added excitement of the Pyrenees looming large in the background. Unfortunately, they still don’t show on pictures. Still, once again we have lots of lovely hilltop views of gorges and rolling hillside.

As we were exiting Miramont-Sensacq, we noticed a tall pilgrim ahead of us going at a good clip. We weren’t catching up to him. Further on, we were surprised to see him again, and noticed that he was now walking with another pilgrim, at a much slower pace.

We caught up to them at the XI to XIIth Century church at Sensacq.



The German pilgrim we met filling up his water bottle the other day was there as well. It was a very interesting church, but just a museum now, not a practicing church. The thing I found most interesting was that the church had a kitchen, as evidenced by a stone fireplace. This proves that even back in the 11th Century, casseroles were an important part of church life.

One also couldn’t help but notice that the pilgrim the tall fellow was now walking with was absolutely gorgeous. Slender but very muscular (she must do weights and/or body building or martial arts), tanned, and blonde highlighted hair. She had a very large backpack, so carrying all her gear herself. The tall fellow seemed to be falling all over himself, and possibly the other German pilgrim was wondering about his chances, too. Can you find true love on the Camino? It seems many have, according to various testimonies. All the more power to them.

As we were leaving the church at Sensacq, I had an epiphany. The current plan was that we would walk to St. Jean Pied-de-Port on Thursday Oct 6 and then take a train to Bordeaux at 4pm and stay there overnight. Then on Friday, we would take a train from Bordeaux to Paris. This was as opposed to taking the train all the way from St. Jean Pied-de-Port to Paris on Friday. The current plan avoided a 6 minute transfer time at Bordeaux (a large train station) to the train to Paris. We can’t miss the train to Paris on Friday Oct 7 because we have to catch a 5pm flight to Nuremberg, Germany. Our Viking cruise with Phyllis and Richard down the Danube River to Budapest starts from Nuremberg on Saturday Oct. 8.

There were numerous problems with our current plan. We would arrive at St. Jean Pied-de-Port after walking 20 km, all sweaty and in our hiking clothes. We couldn’t shower, couldn’t change, and most importantly, what would we do if our bags hadn’t arrived. With respect to our booking at the Hotel Espellet in Larceveux, it was likely the best (or only) option there. Changing the hotel would almost certainly involve a downgrade, and it seemed things couldn’t get much worse.

The perfect solution now presented itself to me. Using the valid excuse of the bed bug problem, I would suggest we cancel our hotel at Larceveux on Wednesday Oct 5 and instead we walk all the way to St. Jean Pied-de-Port and stay there.

This was God’s plan unfolding. Divine intervention! It is the way things should have been arranged from the beginning. It would be lovely to spend another night in St. Jean Pied-de-Port, looking out over the Pyrenees and reminiscing about our Camino in Spain in 2013.

There was a lovely pilgrim centre at Pimbo, so we went in, ordered a coffee, and I called La Pelerin. I told her our friend had told us there were bedbugs at Espellet and I didn’t want to stay there. Before I could lay out my suggested solution, she told me she didn’t think it was possible to change the lodging at Larceveux, and she was going to go check with her colleague. After a very long pause I decided the connection had been dropped (even though our phone said we were connected). So I hung up and called again.

She said there was nowhere else to stay in Larceveux (this may just mean they have no arrangements with any other lodgings there), and then I asked if we could walk all the way to St. Jean Pied-de-Port that day and stay there. She perked up and said they could make that change, but it would be a very long 35km walk there that day from St. Palais. I told her that was fine with me. She got my e-mail address and she said she would e-mail me to confirm the change. I was feeling very excited about this turn of events.

After a mighty steep climb up to Pimbo (where there was one standing wall of an ancient church, the bell tower with two bells), there was a mighty descent out of it. At the bottom, there was a pilgrim park with plum trees planted by the Friends of the Camino (the plums were for pilgrims) and some picnic tables. We stopped and had our pre-lunch there.

Later, we came upon a cathedral path (a dugout/ditch circled in trees). We saw a fellow with a chainsaw as we entered, and he followed us for a while. 



I started having visions of a chainsaw massacre, but after a while we came upon a tree that had fallen across the path. He stopped there and started cleaning it up. We thought of Kristine, she could be the chainsaw professional the Friends call for those jobs too big for them to handle.

As expected, we arrived at Arzacq-Arraziguet, the biggest city on our route today, right around 12:30pm. As it turned out, virtually the first place we hit coming into town was a Casino that was open all day, so we hadn’t needed to worry about lunch (although we had, and had brought our lunch with us all this way). We didn’t pass any picnic tables, and asked a local if there were any, but he said no, so we sat at a bench in the centre of town and had our lunch. The German fellow passed, and came over and said hi. There was a bar/restaurant just across from the bench, and the bartender was watching us as we ate. We are very impressive, making use of our swiss army knife, pulling out our (plastic bag) tablecloth, our cutlery, our water to wash dishes, and pulling out all sorts of food from our backpacks. After lunch, I asked another local if there was a public washroom anywhere. She said not that she knew of, but why not go get a coffee at the bar/restaurant, didn’t cost much and they had a bathroom.

First we visited the church –Notre Dame de Luy, obviously well used. Then we went and got a coffee. The fellow was very pleasant and knew exactly why we were there. He told me where the bathroom was even though I hadn’t asked!

After lunch, we followed the GR65 out of town, and the first thing we passed was a park full of picnic tables. These locals have probably lived in that little town all their lives and don’t know where the picnic are. Incredible! By now it was pretty hot. We passed by lac d’arzacq, a very large, man-made looking lake. Perhaps you could swim there? We didn’t see any signs saying no, and there was a lovely sandy beach. But it looked pretty green to me, a great place to catch an ear/eye/throat infection.

Then began a series of very steep climbs and ascents. Magnificent 360⁰ views (although not all at once). I was doing pretty well until Louvigny at about 25km. After that, between the heat and the climbing I was getting a bit testy. I had suggested to Russell we arrange a ride with the baggage transfer taxi to eliminate 7 km from the walk today, but he didn’t want to. Originally, I wanted to cut 7km from the walk by only going to Louvigny, but our host for the night said he would pick us up at Larreule, and I didn’t really want to push my luck with him.

There was a very modern church at Louvigny, with a slate floor, lovely stained glass windows, and very new. There were also public washrooms in the town, always very welcoming.

It was just one steep climb after another after Louvigny (4 to be precise). Lovely views, but we were getting very hot and tired. The other discouraging thing is that since we entered the department of Landes, there is a noticeable lack of signs telling you where you are. I kept (wishful) thinking we were further along than we were, then very discouraged when I figured out where we really were.

We got to Larreule at 4:30 and called the owner at le Manoir d’Argeles. He came to pick us up in front of the Benedictine Monastery, Sainte Pierre, founded about 995AD. There was a big staircase to climb to go look at it, and I just didn’t have the energy. Of course, I wish had.

It was an interesting drive – memories of Italy. Our lodging tonight was at a very large and grand property in Morlanne. We were the only guests. The owner was a very large German, an artist and lawyer. The place needs fixing up, but it must have been very grand in its day. They just rent the property, but he said they would like to buy it. I wouldn’t recommend it. The place needs a ton of money poured into it to renovate and bring it up to an acceptable standard.

The fellow was the cook and we all ate together. He served calamari. Rather a dicey choice, I would say. I hate calamari and Russell doesn’t like it either. I barely ate any of my dinner. We had a lovely salad to start though, and a delicious plum pie for dessert, and we ate all of that.

I didn’t put my stuff in plastic, but the thought did cross my mind.

His paintings were very interesting. He has a painting in an important public place in Berlin, thought Russell and I couldn’t quite catch where from the discussion. He had a puzzle of the piece for 20 euro. I thought it would be nice to get it, but our suitcases are already over the limit, and we decided against it. I just know I’m regret that.

We told them of our plans to tour Germany after the Camino: the cruise; the bus trip up the Romantic Road from Munich to Frankfurt, with a stop in Rothenberg; and, the bus trip through the Black Forest, to Strasbourg, and Zurich. They own a house in Baden-Baden. She said it’s very small, and modern.