St. Jean Pied de Port

Though technically in France, St. Jean, where we arrived on Sunday, feels a lot like Spain, perhaps because it's so close to the border, or the Basque heritage, or simply because our minds are so focused on the Camino; In any case, we all kept mixing up si with oui, por favor with s'il vous plait.

When we arrived in the morning, we stopped by the pilgrim's office to get the first stamp for our credentials, as well as some helpful handouts about places to stay and the distance and elevation between towns. We also booked beds in a refugio, or pilgrim hostel -- ten of us taking up a whole room, Kevin in another with other pilgrims.

We got our first taste of the pilgrim community in St. Jean.  As we waited outside the office, a British man approached and started talking to us.  He had walked several years ago and was now sightseeing towns along the way with his wife.  He said the best advice he had was "just keep going." Then about a minute later, he returned and added that if we felt a hot spot -- a sore place on your foot that will turn into a blister -- we must immediately stop and put some moleskin on it.

Many interesting characters walk the Camino.  Alessandra, a college student finishing her gap year from Yale and who began walking in Southeast France.  Susan and Nancy, two women from Lake Tahoe who are walking to celebrate their 60th birthdays.  Angelo, an out of work Italian.  And this was before we started walking!

Waiting for the refugio to open, we walked to the citadel, a quiet place with towering moss covered stone walls that suddenly end to reveal startlingly wide yet clear and detailed views (see picture) of St. Jean, nestled in the Pyrenees.  Getting ready for the Camino as much about mental preparation as it is physical and logistical, and up here under ballooning clouds I finally felt ready to kick off the journey.  As fellow pilgrims said to me all day, buen camino!