"It's Been A Hard Day's Night..."

"...I should be sleeping like a log"

The Beatles had it right! Everyone tried to catch what little shuteye was possible on the cramped train seats, but by the time we arrived in Bayonne at midnight we were pretty exhausted. And then the real fun began.

With 8 hours to kill before our bus to St. Jean Pied de Port, we followed a group of backpackers to a hotel on the main square. But €75 per night for a double was way out of our price range, so we headed back to the train station -- which was closed! So we camped out against the wall of the station, peacefully talking and snacking until a red-shirted man began hovering around us, talking animatedly in foreign languages, some of them imaginary.

An hour and a half later, we were sufficiently creeped out enough to move. After an inadvertent walking tour of Bayonne, visiting various hotels (most closed or full), we crossed a bridge over the river and settled in a tiny park with two benches and a large column that was either art or poorly-hidden plumbing. I spread my tarp on the ground, laid my sleeping bag on top, put in my earphones to listen to James Taylor, and attempted to sleep. My thoughts drifted back to school, to the shadowy people sleeping on the grass in Cambridge Commons, always studiously avoided after dark. And then I realized -- now we those people.

While I was sleeping, I'm told the brave ones keeping watch scared off a dog and a lost-looking man. My heroes! At 6:30am, the train station opened and we waited inside for our bus (and tried gateau basque, a delicious cake-like bread), and at 8:20 we were off to St. Jean!

St. Jean is a town of white buildings with red roofs and shutters, nestled below the deep green peaks of the Pyrenees. Sea shells, symbols of St. James and of the Camino, adorn walls and signs.  We followed them to the pilgrim credentialing office and picked up our own shells for our backpacks.  Then off to lunch, and a climb up an old stone citadel with stunning views.  Finally we ended at a refugio, or hostel for pilgrims, where we enjoyed much needed showers and relaxed for the rest of the day.

Picture: Outside the train station around 6am.
Picture: The sign on our refugio.