What a beautiful walk into Saint Jean Pied-de-Port! It was just 3 or 4 kilometers but the foothills are a brilliant green and the wild flowers are abundant. Eyes feast on reds, yellows, blues, pinks, white and countless shades of green. The hills roll over into the distance and the clouds hug the valleys in the early morning. The last stretch into SJPP is all uphill (what else) but we are happy to be here. It was poignant for me to enter the city through the ancient 'port' or door. We are still in France but it feels different here. This is a city where for centuries pilgrims from all directions have met to restock and prepare for the long journey into Santiago de Compostela. It's a little city which is accustomed to serving many nationalities.
After going to the Pilgrims's Office and getting our credencials stamped we found a spot to sleep at a place called Accueil Jacquaire where Marie took us in and treated us like honoured guests, making us tea and ensuring we were comfortable. Then she gave us both an energy healing which felt quite lovely. We poked around town and picked up the odd thing for the next part of our journey, spent some time in the pilgrims' office adding strings to scallop shells for incoming pilgrims but mostly just relaxed as we waited for my son and daughter-in-law to join us.
The upper door to Saint Jean-Pied-de-Port
Marie's very loveable dogs
SJPP was completely full that night. Apparently it has over 400 spaces but they were all full and people were being sent to neighbouring communities to sleep. Marie did not have enough space for both of us the next night so I found a spot at a neighbouring place. That ended up to be the worst night I have ever spent on the camino or probably anywhere else for that matter. It was called Sur le Chemin au Chant du Coq. The woman who owns it has 6 rescue cats and a rooster and I'm not sure what other animals. She advertises herself as having a Zen attitude but as far as I can tell that means she is interested only in herself which, as far as I know, is quite an unusual form of Zen. The night I stayed there in a dorm with numerous others she had female visitors who played the piano, sang horribly off key, screeched and clapped at each other and smoked like sailors for too long after the paying guests were in bed and ready for sleep to prepare for the big climb the next day. All of our clothes and sleeping bags reeked of the smoke that of course poured upstairs to where we were trying to sleep. She insisted that none of us move a muscle before 7:00 in the morning. It was a horrible night and what a strange woman. She walked around town in her bare feet but wouldn't let us carry our street shoes upstairs to put in our backpacks. I couldn't wait to get out of there! Luckily for me Marie had invited me back over to her place for breakfast so the day took a turn for the better.
Unless you're a chain smoker you may want to avoid this place in SJPP
The next day Damon and Kristina arrived. It was so great to see them and we were all excited to walk up the big mountain. We visited and chatted, poked about, ate a great dinner and generally prepared ourselves to head up the mountain the following day.
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