Of course when I mentioned sole occupancy of the dorm I had been premature. When I went up from my internet session I found a couple of friendly Spanish guys in the opposite bunks but of course I had forgotten all about the snoring! Yet more of the mechanical, repetitive, incessant rhythmic snoring - all eight hours of it! I think I may eventually take matters into my own hands and wake them up to remind them that they are keeping me awake!
Anyway I 'awoke' feeling refreshed - at least the rest does one good. I had an early breakfast and then an interesting thing happened - a thing that would change my day and the next few days for the better.
As I'd mentioned yesterday they are very helpful in the welcome centre. I'd asked there about my route towards Irun and he gave me a route map that they have prepared, that appeared to show just two! "etapes" taking me due North, with the third being the walk to Ascain (another day) and then on to Irun itself.
Well I studied this route. I got out my map and checked the routes but decided I didn't like it. It basically went due North for two days (being designed to deliver the pilgrim to Bayonne), leaving me to make my way West for the remaining stages. I happened to mention to Danielle (the owner of the gite) that I had my doubts about this route, and she poo-pooed the idea immediately. "Everyone knows that if you're going in that direction, you take the GR10" she said. She indicated on my map where the various etapes were and after I considered it only fairly briefly (noting that there are a lot of red, squiggly lines of the footpaths), I decided that this was decent enough advice and that this would be the route I would take. It was very similar (but made more sense than) the route I had already prepared myself.
Well, what a journey this turned out to be!
I left town at first light - around 07:40 around these parts - and went first to visit the "Porte Saint Jacques" in the mist, which is where I would have entered the town had I not got lost the day before. After that I set out to follow the "balisage" for the GR10.
It started out well. I found my way out of town quickly
As I made the gentle ascent I looked back at a sleepy early morning St Jean and found it most photogenic. So I've taken a number of photos that show both the rising mist from the night before, as well as the way that the early sunlight rakes across the field and touches the distant peak.
I had absolutely no idea of what I was about to do!
I followed the signs and soon found myself going up on a footpath. Nothing particularly unusual about that. The views got better the higher I got. These are both looking back towards St Jean as the sun burns off the overnight mist.
A short time later and I saw a marker for my destination - St Etienne de Bigorre at 5hrs 40min. I should have realised that the time indicated (they don't tend to put distances on the boards, just times) that this short "etape" of 18km would take six hours for a good reason! I met a group of four fellow walkers near the start of the ascent but having soon passed them I didn't see them again until I arrived at the gite.
This was a proper climb. Up it went, and then up. And oh my goodness - what miracles there lay before me. Below was all of the valley lying silent in the rising mist. I soon climbed higher and could see ahead looking West. I was soon up around 900 metres, a surprisingly smooth climb, and I was suddenly up among the eagles and vultures - huge, graceful birds riding the currents up out of the valleys. At one point a surprisingly chill wind whipped up out of nowhere and I stopped to put on my windproof jacket. As I stood up there appeared suddenly, no more than 20 metres in front of me, a pair of Golden Eagles riding the wind. (there are no eagles in this photo)
Absolutely stunning. I've never had such an encounter before and while in one sense it's something so simple (the sight of a pair of birds), these particular birds seem to hold a certain significance, perhaps as a sign of the wild. Of course it happened far too quickly for me to really grab any decent shots but I did try (you'll have to view full size).
My path took me on over the farther hills:
I was to go on to commit what was really an avoidable and costly error.
For some reason, despite having followed the GR in various forms from my home address, I somehow got it into my head that the more orange coloured signs I was now seeing were what I was supposed to be following. Perhaps, I had reasoned, because it was the GR10 it might have a distinct set of markings.
So off I wandered, happy as a lark, up along the high ridges of the mountain, fully submerged in the raw beauty of the place - it's stark, raw nature. After a while, when I rather sensed I should be slightly elsewhere than my present location, I asked the few people I met to check that I was indeed on the "chemin" and specifically the GR10. They all happily waved me onward, assured that this was all very straightforward.
It was some hours later - probably about the time I should have been arriving at my destination - that I began to understand that I had come a long way out of my way. The oddest thing about being "lost" in such a location was that despite having a decent map and a compass, none of the roads carry names or numbers and none of the habitations or small hamlets have any names. So one is rather stuck in terms of working out how to change course by virtue of the fact that I don't know exactly where I am to begin with! Pointing the compass at a nearby mountain doesn't help much!
I flagged down the next car that passed (the second or third of the entire day thus far, so I considered myself lucky) and enquired. She reassured me that it was either 14km by road (no chance!) or that I could take the footpath indicated nearby (involving a re-ascent of the mountain) and thus reach St Etienne.
I reflected further and decided that 14km was too far really, particularly after having made over 900 metres altitude earlier in the day. So I somewhat reluctantly set off up the indicated path in the expectation of putting myself back on the GR as had been confirmed.
After about 40 minutes of difficult ascent I found myself in a shady wood. There just a little way ahead were a couple. Great, I'll ask them. When I approached I realised that they were busy repainting the very same waymarkers on the trees and rocks. Who better to have met?
Their explanation then made me realise my error. I had not been following the GR10 at all. I had been following the waymarking for the horse riders! So not only did I have to about face (and take the hot, boring tarmac) but I had gone a long, long way out of my way by following the wrong markers! Of course this error had been compounded by all the helpful farmers and hunters along the way who had all happily pointed me in the wrong direction... grrr.... Having said this, I did feel that I had gained so much from my long ramble through the mountains. There are many aspects of that which I wouldn't want to change.
So, I had to retrace several kilometres of my path and set myself onto the road towards St Etienne. This involved an 8km walk to Barca (the preceding village) and a further 6km in the hot afternoon sunshine, beside a fairly busy main road. Any chance of regaining the GR was lost by virtue of it passing some 600 metres above me, somewhere on the range above. Mind you, it was a beautiful day, so I put some music on and walked as best I could. I loved this grand old tree just standing there, being a tree:
Coming out of Barca I saw what looked like a ruined mine building. Apparently they used to mine iron in this region. Opposite it was this other, perhaps related, old ruin:
As I neared my destination I saw this sign. I thought that perhaps I'd give this one a miss for the moment!
It was a VERY tired and weary pilgrim who rolled into St Etienne this evening. I'd looked forward to a relatively easy day (around 18km of climbs) and an arrival around 15:00 hrs. Instead I rolled up a the only gite in town, VERY fortunate to get the last bed, around 17:40 having walked for an additional three hours.
A cold beer and a shower later, and a chance to address the new blister that had formed on my left foot (as a result of walking on hot tarmac - it overheats the feet) and I felt a lot better. The pilgrims I had passed that morning noticed me and I explained my detour to them. I felt a little better when they explained that they had also found themselves confused by the signposting but unlike me, they realised and retraced certain steps and put themselves back on the camino.
All was far from lost however because the evening meal was absolutely wonderful. After a tuna salad we had a dish containing "Jambon de Bayonne" alonside locally produced sausages (from the "cochon noir") and chips! Great for the carbs and proteins. I ate as much as I could physically manage, aware that I would be walking again the next day.
However, I was to learn over dinner (with some amazement) that I to stumble upon the GR10 is to place oneself on the Grand Randonnee which crosses the entire range of the Pyrénées - from Hendaye to Perpignan. I chatted with Alain over dinner, who happened to have all information at his disposal (length of each etape, altitudes gained, amount climbed, times taken). He patiently explained to me that tomorrow's stage was 'only' 16km but that it passed over a number of cols. He also confirmed that my day had included 1130 metres of ascent but that the following day would take us to over 1200 metres.
So, lesson learned. DO NOT make mistakes on the chemin. However, what I fallen into was a group of experienced Alpinists (they were all club members which is why they were walking together) who were happy for me to walk with them the following day (at my request) - primarily to prevent myself getting lost.
More snoring in the gite that night but actually - despite snoring still being the devil's work!!! - I did sleep. My next adventure lay before me - but more of that soon. While I've now got internet access for the first time in days, it's a lengthy process updating these pages. I've other things to do this evening such as eat and sleep, so as much as I'd like to bring you fully up to date, I'm going to sign off for now. Maybe I'll find the internet again soon! Thanks for all your comments, even if I don't get time to reply to them all. Glad to know that some of you are enjoying the blog :0)
Anyway I 'awoke' feeling refreshed - at least the rest does one good. I had an early breakfast and then an interesting thing happened - a thing that would change my day and the next few days for the better.
As I'd mentioned yesterday they are very helpful in the welcome centre. I'd asked there about my route towards Irun and he gave me a route map that they have prepared, that appeared to show just two! "etapes" taking me due North, with the third being the walk to Ascain (another day) and then on to Irun itself.
Well I studied this route. I got out my map and checked the routes but decided I didn't like it. It basically went due North for two days (being designed to deliver the pilgrim to Bayonne), leaving me to make my way West for the remaining stages. I happened to mention to Danielle (the owner of the gite) that I had my doubts about this route, and she poo-pooed the idea immediately. "Everyone knows that if you're going in that direction, you take the GR10" she said. She indicated on my map where the various etapes were and after I considered it only fairly briefly (noting that there are a lot of red, squiggly lines of the footpaths), I decided that this was decent enough advice and that this would be the route I would take. It was very similar (but made more sense than) the route I had already prepared myself.
Well, what a journey this turned out to be!
I left town at first light - around 07:40 around these parts - and went first to visit the "Porte Saint Jacques" in the mist, which is where I would have entered the town had I not got lost the day before. After that I set out to follow the "balisage" for the GR10.
As I made the gentle ascent I looked back at a sleepy early morning St Jean and found it most photogenic. So I've taken a number of photos that show both the rising mist from the night before, as well as the way that the early sunlight rakes across the field and touches the distant peak.
I had absolutely no idea of what I was about to do!
I followed the signs and soon found myself going up on a footpath. Nothing particularly unusual about that. The views got better the higher I got. These are both looking back towards St Jean as the sun burns off the overnight mist.
A short time later and I saw a marker for my destination - St Etienne de Bigorre at 5hrs 40min. I should have realised that the time indicated (they don't tend to put distances on the boards, just times) that this short "etape" of 18km would take six hours for a good reason! I met a group of four fellow walkers near the start of the ascent but having soon passed them I didn't see them again until I arrived at the gite.
This was a proper climb. Up it went, and then up. And oh my goodness - what miracles there lay before me. Below was all of the valley lying silent in the rising mist. I soon climbed higher and could see ahead looking West. I was soon up around 900 metres, a surprisingly smooth climb, and I was suddenly up among the eagles and vultures - huge, graceful birds riding the currents up out of the valleys. At one point a surprisingly chill wind whipped up out of nowhere and I stopped to put on my windproof jacket. As I stood up there appeared suddenly, no more than 20 metres in front of me, a pair of Golden Eagles riding the wind. (there are no eagles in this photo)
Absolutely stunning. I've never had such an encounter before and while in one sense it's something so simple (the sight of a pair of birds), these particular birds seem to hold a certain significance, perhaps as a sign of the wild. Of course it happened far too quickly for me to really grab any decent shots but I did try (you'll have to view full size).
My path took me on over the farther hills:
I was to go on to commit what was really an avoidable and costly error.
For some reason, despite having followed the GR in various forms from my home address, I somehow got it into my head that the more orange coloured signs I was now seeing were what I was supposed to be following. Perhaps, I had reasoned, because it was the GR10 it might have a distinct set of markings.
So off I wandered, happy as a lark, up along the high ridges of the mountain, fully submerged in the raw beauty of the place - it's stark, raw nature. After a while, when I rather sensed I should be slightly elsewhere than my present location, I asked the few people I met to check that I was indeed on the "chemin" and specifically the GR10. They all happily waved me onward, assured that this was all very straightforward.
It was some hours later - probably about the time I should have been arriving at my destination - that I began to understand that I had come a long way out of my way. The oddest thing about being "lost" in such a location was that despite having a decent map and a compass, none of the roads carry names or numbers and none of the habitations or small hamlets have any names. So one is rather stuck in terms of working out how to change course by virtue of the fact that I don't know exactly where I am to begin with! Pointing the compass at a nearby mountain doesn't help much!
I flagged down the next car that passed (the second or third of the entire day thus far, so I considered myself lucky) and enquired. She reassured me that it was either 14km by road (no chance!) or that I could take the footpath indicated nearby (involving a re-ascent of the mountain) and thus reach St Etienne.
I reflected further and decided that 14km was too far really, particularly after having made over 900 metres altitude earlier in the day. So I somewhat reluctantly set off up the indicated path in the expectation of putting myself back on the GR as had been confirmed.
After about 40 minutes of difficult ascent I found myself in a shady wood. There just a little way ahead were a couple. Great, I'll ask them. When I approached I realised that they were busy repainting the very same waymarkers on the trees and rocks. Who better to have met?
Their explanation then made me realise my error. I had not been following the GR10 at all. I had been following the waymarking for the horse riders! So not only did I have to about face (and take the hot, boring tarmac) but I had gone a long, long way out of my way by following the wrong markers! Of course this error had been compounded by all the helpful farmers and hunters along the way who had all happily pointed me in the wrong direction... grrr.... Having said this, I did feel that I had gained so much from my long ramble through the mountains. There are many aspects of that which I wouldn't want to change.
So, I had to retrace several kilometres of my path and set myself onto the road towards St Etienne. This involved an 8km walk to Barca (the preceding village) and a further 6km in the hot afternoon sunshine, beside a fairly busy main road. Any chance of regaining the GR was lost by virtue of it passing some 600 metres above me, somewhere on the range above. Mind you, it was a beautiful day, so I put some music on and walked as best I could. I loved this grand old tree just standing there, being a tree:
Coming out of Barca I saw what looked like a ruined mine building. Apparently they used to mine iron in this region. Opposite it was this other, perhaps related, old ruin:
As I neared my destination I saw this sign. I thought that perhaps I'd give this one a miss for the moment!
It was a VERY tired and weary pilgrim who rolled into St Etienne this evening. I'd looked forward to a relatively easy day (around 18km of climbs) and an arrival around 15:00 hrs. Instead I rolled up a the only gite in town, VERY fortunate to get the last bed, around 17:40 having walked for an additional three hours.
A cold beer and a shower later, and a chance to address the new blister that had formed on my left foot (as a result of walking on hot tarmac - it overheats the feet) and I felt a lot better. The pilgrims I had passed that morning noticed me and I explained my detour to them. I felt a little better when they explained that they had also found themselves confused by the signposting but unlike me, they realised and retraced certain steps and put themselves back on the camino.
All was far from lost however because the evening meal was absolutely wonderful. After a tuna salad we had a dish containing "Jambon de Bayonne" alonside locally produced sausages (from the "cochon noir") and chips! Great for the carbs and proteins. I ate as much as I could physically manage, aware that I would be walking again the next day.
However, I was to learn over dinner (with some amazement) that I to stumble upon the GR10 is to place oneself on the Grand Randonnee which crosses the entire range of the Pyrénées - from Hendaye to Perpignan. I chatted with Alain over dinner, who happened to have all information at his disposal (length of each etape, altitudes gained, amount climbed, times taken). He patiently explained to me that tomorrow's stage was 'only' 16km but that it passed over a number of cols. He also confirmed that my day had included 1130 metres of ascent but that the following day would take us to over 1200 metres.
So, lesson learned. DO NOT make mistakes on the chemin. However, what I fallen into was a group of experienced Alpinists (they were all club members which is why they were walking together) who were happy for me to walk with them the following day (at my request) - primarily to prevent myself getting lost.
More snoring in the gite that night but actually - despite snoring still being the devil's work!!! - I did sleep. My next adventure lay before me - but more of that soon. While I've now got internet access for the first time in days, it's a lengthy process updating these pages. I've other things to do this evening such as eat and sleep, so as much as I'd like to bring you fully up to date, I'm going to sign off for now. Maybe I'll find the internet again soon! Thanks for all your comments, even if I don't get time to reply to them all. Glad to know that some of you are enjoying the blog :0)
While some parts of your journey may blend into one, I've a feeling you'll remember that day! Stunning photos too! I think I mentioned before that I spent some time around there about 16 years ago, and I can still recall the smell of burning brakes from the (borrowed!) automatic car that couldn't cope with the gradients! So your feet did well to produce only one blister! And the flocks of griffon vultures were awesome, and I don't mean that in the urban slang way:0)
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