It was not my intention to write every day, but I find that so much happens each day that it always seems it's been a very long time since my last update. It seems impossible that I've only spent 3 nights on this trip so far.
The first day of my walk was fairly brutal. It's supposed to be one of the harder days of the whole trip, simply from a physical difficulty standpoint, nevermind the fact that it's your first day adjusting to this lifestyle. I CROSSED THE PYRANESE ON FOOT! I walked 25km, rose 1400m (400 of which was over a 2km stretch). There is a stop about 1/3 of the way called Orisson which is the last place to stay the night on the path for the day until you get to Roncevalles. I managed to get there by like 11am, and had no desire to stop at that point (which is good, because those beds are apparently booked over a month in advance). Orisson also has a beautiful dining patio overlooking the valley you get to see the whole walk up. I tried to take a lot of pictures with the camera today, but I'm doubting many of them will do justice to the sense of scale and openness that you get while walking.
It was also a day of difficulty... climbing that much when I'm not used to backpacking was a bit intense. The stabilizing muscles in my thighs are far more sore than I expected. I'm not quite used to balancing this much weight. We'll see how well I hold up tomorrow.
I started out the day walking with some older Australian ladies (because their slower pace up the first Hill was much nicer than that of the group of young Spanish guys who blew past us). The initial hill out of the St Jean is an excellent wake up call of the day you have ahead of you. I imagine that any problems you have with your gear or fitness would come to light during this first climb. It was foggy when we left, which meant it was humid, so your sweat just accumulated.
Then I ran into Mary, an Irish girl I had met on the bus the day before. She only has 2 weeks on this trip, so she's just going to see how far she gets. Her pace is a bit quicker than mine, and I think she could tell that, because she opted to break off ahead and listen to music for most of the day. I ran into her again at several stops along the way.
That's how this seems to work, you run into people in waves. There is are a couple of older Scottish gentlemen, Willy and Colin, here with their wives, they're a couple of characters who really like talking with the younger ladies on the trail.
I also met, and then later remet a couple of young women who seem to have a similar pace to my own. Annalea (from Portland) and Trine (pronounced roughly like "Trina", from Denmark). I remet them after a long stretch of solo walking and I was very glad for the company, especially as that last half of the day was a ridiculous amount of effort to pile on top of the first half. I believe you don't summit until 2/3 of the way through the distance, but of course your pace grows slower as you go along further.
I had some reflections while hiking alone about the trail is a great metaphor for life, walking alone allows you to make your own choices on when to stop and when to push on, and make note of your tendencies with other people (for example, I noticed myself trying to keep pace with people ahead of me when I really should have just relaxed). And how when you walk with company, even if you know it's only temporary, your experience completely changes.
I will probably take some days ahead to just walk completely solo and try to just experience things on my own, but for the first bit of this, while my body is still adapting, I am very glad to have company to distract me, and also to remind me that my physical discomfort is not a unique experience.
Attached is an image of the altitude map for the day 1 trip. That was a rough start, but it's fulfilling to know that I made it through that on day 1, it gives you some confidence in your ability to finish the journey.
Tonight I stayed in a giant hall with 48 beds:
Yet it is surprisingly quiet; I expect to sleep well.
