From Saint-Jean-Pied-de-Port to Roncesvalles

 

 

– The big day has finally arrived! –

Today marks the beginning of my adventure along the French Way, heading towards Santiago de Compostela and Finisterre.

I can’t help but smile at the thought that last night I set my alarm in fear of not waking up early enough.

– No way! – This morning, I was already up and about at half past five, thirty minutes ahead of schedule.

In hostels, you tend to wake up as soon as other pilgrims start getting ready: despite their efforts to use torches instead of turning on the lights and to be as quiet as possible, those still in bed can’t help but notice the activity around them in the dormitory.

 

I have breakfast in the hostel’s common room, eating what I bought yesterday and making myself some tea.

When I return to the dorm, I overhear someone talking about booking a hostel for the next night. Rumor has it that, due to the large number of pilgrims, finding a place in Roncesvalles might not be easy.

Indeed, when I arrived in Saint-Jean-Pied-de-Port yesterday, I was stunned by the number of people who had arrived along with me.

I chose this time of year to avoid the crowds, thinking May would be quieter.

However, yesterday afternoon, the man at reception contradicted my assumption, explaining that this is actually one of the busiest periods for pilgrims. The mild climate – not too cold like in winter and not too hot like in summer – makes it particularly appealing.

It’s also worth noting that Roncesvalles is another popular starting point for the French Way. Many pilgrims travel directly there from their home countries instead of beginning at Saint-Jean-Pied-de-Port.

Still, – I don’t want to make bookings! –

I want to experience The Way freely, taking things as they come.

I decide to stick to this approach, even though the thought of not finding a place to shower and sleep after walking 25 kilometers does make me a bit anxious.

This feeling will stay with me throughout my Way, and it’s probably the only negative aspect of this amazing experience.

I must also confess to my readers that, despite my fundamentalist intentions about how to experience The Way, I will occasionally give in and book a hostel – but only in places where accommodation is notoriously scarce.

 

At seven o’clock in the morning, I leave the hostel and begin my journey with Franco along the High Route, also known as the Route Napoléon. It’s the most scenic and demanding route.

Peppe, our other friend from Naples, having already done this stretch once before, opts for the valley route, which is mandatory in bad weather.

 

Today’s weather is fantastic: the sun is shining, and the sky is clear. Without hesitation, I choose to follow the epic Route Napoléon.

The temperature is quite low, just four degrees Celsius, and a bit of mist lingers in the valleys.

Crossing Porte Notre-Dame, walking over the Vieux Pont across the Nive River, and passing through Porte d’Espagne, I can officially say goodbye to Saint-Jean-Pied-de-Port, located at an altitude of 175 meters.

The path starts on asphalt and, without giving me any illusions, is uphill right from the start. After all, today’s stage crosses the Pyrenees, reaching an altitude of 1,430 meters, so a steep incline is to be expected.

In the first few kilometers, I lose sight of Franco. The uphill climb and, especially, his heavy backpack slow him down considerably. The distance between us gradually increases until we can no longer see each other.

 

Hiking, and therefore the Way of Saint James, isn’t a race where the fastest wins. The rule is to walk at your own pace – it’s not advisable to speed up to keep up with someone or to slow down to wait for others who lag behind.

As I ascend, stunning natural views gradually reveal themselves. Rolling hills and valleys dotted with farms and small settlements create a picturesque scene.

The green fields, covered in grazing sheep and cattle, glow intensely under the morning sun. Occasionally, the meadows give way to small woods, breaking the landscape’s soft, undulating lines.

 

After five kilometers, I reach Huntto at 8:15, where the Ferme Ithurburia hostel is located.

 

So far, the climb has been constant, and now, at just over 500 meters above sea level, I still have about 900 meters more to ascend.

 

The path I’m following is marked as GR65, identified by two parallel lines – one white and one red – accompanied by the yellow scallop shell symbolizing the Way of Saint James.

The classic yellow arrow, pointing towards Santiago de Compostela and Finisterre, is only found on the Spanish side.

 

Getting lost on the Way of Saint James is virtually impossible: the route is well-marked, frequently and at every crossroads.

I also uploaded the entire itinerary onto my phone’s GPS, marking all the stages in advance. Its main use isn’t to help me find the path but to show me how much time and distance remain before reaching the next stop.

There are countless reasons why you might wonder – How much farther? – and sometimes knowing can be comforting and motivating.

In particular, when hunger strikes so hard that you could devour the next passing pilgrim, it’s reassuring to know how far the next town is where you can eat and rest.

 

After walking for another hour, it’s just past nine when I reach the Orisson refuge, located at about 800 meters above sea level.

Here, I find many pilgrims taking a break, including the noisy Italians who boarded the train to Bayonne at Lourdes station yesterday.

Among them are Nicola and Rosario from Palermo, Rocco – who prefers to be called Peter – from Turin, Beppe and Piero, also from Turin, and Dante from Civitavecchia. With me from Catania, we represent nearly all of Italy.

I join them for a short break and a few laughs.

With the excitement of the first day and the fact that we’re all Italians, it doesn’t take long to form a group and dive into lighthearted banter – this time, I happily join in as well.

Before resuming our walk, we capture the moment with a group photo.

I don’t let my break last more than ten minutes, though, as I’m beginning to realize that the longer the rest, the harder it is to get moving again.

 

During this first stage, I pay close attention to my body; I try to pace myself and monitor how my legs and feet respond to each step.

I’m not obsessed with performance, but being here means I want to complete The Way exactly as I imagined it.

I was determined to walk the entire route, rejecting the idea of starting from an intermediate stage or completing it in segments over different periods.

I believe the true beauty of the experience lies in its length and the time it takes to complete it.

 

Living far from my beloved Volcano Etna and not having the opportunity to train in the mountains while living in Naples, I prepared for The Way with urban trekking.

On each outing, I covered routes of about twenty kilometers, which also gave me a chance to discover unexplored areas of Naples.

Starting from the city center, my first long walk took me to Torre Gaveta, beyond Pozzuoli, roughly following the route of the Cumana railway.

Other times, I walked to the Capodimonte forest, doing several loops inside to simulate being out of the city. On another occasion, to train for climbs, I hiked up to the Hermitage of Camaldoli, Naples’ highest point at about 500 meters.

I always did these training walks without a backpack, as carrying one in the city would have made me feel both ridiculous and overly conspicuous.

It wasn’t until two days before leaving for The Way, when I finally packed my backpack and put it on my shoulders, that I realized how much of a difference it would make to my steps.

 

To complete the picture, I should mention that I set out despite having metatarsalgia in my right foot, which had caused pain even on single-day hikes in the past.

During my preparation, I had several orthopedic consultations and underwent specific tests. However, none provided a definitive solution, confirming that the problem wasn’t caused by anatomical deformities but rather by an inflamed plantar nerve aggravated by prolonged walking.

As a result, every doctor I consulted advised me against doing the Way of Saint James.

For these reasons, when I wrote earlier that I was constantly listening to my body, I meant I was trying to detect any signs of discomfort early on. By adjusting my pace, I hoped to avoid worsening any issues.

Tendinitis, blisters, muscle strains, and various aches are common on The Way. It’s almost inevitable that pilgrims will face one or more of these problems at some point.

 

To prevent blisters, I follow the advice to apply plenty of Vaseline to my feet every morning.

Afterward, I wear clean, blister-resistant socks made of thick, seamless fabric.

Finally, my hiking shoes are one and a half sizes larger than my usual size to ensure my toes don’t touch the front and my feet aren’t squeezed on the sides. The thick socks fill the extra space and help cushion each step.

 

***

At half past ten, I reach the Vierge de Biakorri (or Vierge d’Orisson), also known as the Shepherds’ Virgin, standing at 1,055 meters above sea level.

This is another key landmark on this Pyrenean stage of The Way: a statue of the Virgin, adorned with flowers, rosaries, shells, and other items left by passing pilgrims, stands on a small hill.

I take a ten-minute break here and use the time to eat a few bites of the sandwich I brought along.

 

Among my provisions for the day, I also have some dried fruit, which I snack on occasionally as I walk.

Water sources are common along the route, making it easy to refill bottles.

For convenience, I carry two half-liter plastic bottles rather than a heavier technical water bottle. Carefully choosing what goes into your backpack is one of the hardest tasks when packing, as it’s easy to forget that kilos are made up of grams.

 

The day continues to be sunny and the sky clear. However, a strong wind is blowing, which is quite normal at this altitude.

The landscape has become slightly more rugged but still retains a beautiful shade of green.

So far, I’ve covered about eleven kilometers, which means I’m not quite halfway through today’s stage.

After my break, I continue uphill.

Along the route, I come across a small truck parked by the roadside, set up as a refreshment stand for travelers.

I take the opportunity to buy a banana – an essential fruit on The Way for its natural potassium boost.

 

Shortly after noon, I reach approximately 1,300 meters at the Collado de Bearte, where the border between France and Spain lies.

Here, I meet my new friends from Palermo, Nicola and Rosario, again. We take a photo to commemorate the moment.

I then stop for about ten minutes at the Fontaine de Roland, where I drink some cool mountain water and snack a bit more. From here, it’s just eight kilometers to Roncesvalles.

Crossing the border, I enter Navarra (Nafarroa in Basque), the first of the four Spanish provinces along the French Way.

 

After walking another four and a half kilometers, I reach the much-anticipated Collado de Lepoeder at 13:30, the highest point of today’s stage at 1,430 meters above sea level.

From this point onward, the climb is over, and the route begins to descend.

Seeing Roncesvalles from here gives me the feeling that I’m almost at my destination. However, there are still three and a half kilometers to go.

Two alternative paths lead down from here, one of which is marked as “very steep.” Like the other pilgrims I see passing by, I choose this path. My desire to arrive is strong, and I can’t wait to get the second stamp on my Credencial.

The descent is indeed steep and challenging for the knees, as the incline naturally increases my walking speed.

 

For the first time, I fully appreciate the usefulness of trekking poles, which help me maintain balance by providing four points of support.

I had never used trekking poles before this journey, and I only bought them because they were strongly recommended. Over time, these poles will become indispensable companions—helpful not only on steep climbs and descents but also as steady support along flat stretches.

 

In the final part of today’s stage, the landscape changes as the path winds through a dense forest.

Crossing this section in summer must be a great relief, as the shade offers welcome respite after hours of walking under the sun.

 

I finally arrive in Roncesvalles (Orreaga in Basque) at 14:40. I’m absolutely delighted—not only because I’ve completed the stage without any aches or pains but also because the route was truly spectacular, and I’ll remember it as one of the most beautiful parts of my Way.

For this, I have to thank not just the ideal weather but also the French railway strike. If it hadn’t been for the strike in Toulouse, I would have completed this stage a day earlier. According to other pilgrims, yesterday’s crossing of the Pyrenees was grueling due to bad weather—rain and fog obscured the scenic beauty.

 

After seven hours and forty minutes of walking, I arrive at the Albergue de Peregrinos of the Collegiata. Finally, I can relax, knowing there’s a bed available. I just have to wait a little before completing check-in.

 

While waiting in line, Peppe arrives, having taken the valley route. With him is Maria, from Alba in Piedmont, who will become another companion for much of my Way journey.

Franco shows up a bit later, looking quite worn out. He decides that, starting tomorrow, he’ll send his heavy backpack ahead.

 

Walking without carrying any weight is possible. A luggage transport service operates along the entire Way, transferring backpacks from one stage to the next for 5 Euros per trip.

At check-in, I’m assigned a bed, which costs 10 Euros. I also buy a dinner voucher for another 10 Euros.

The stamp placed on my Credencial feels like a well-earned reward for today’s effort. At the same time, I’m struck by how many empty spaces remain to be filled before completing the journey.

 

– The hostel is beautiful! –

Though it’s housed in an ancient monastic building, the interior has been recently renovated, making it modern and clean. The bunk beds are comfortable, and there’s even a private locker with a key.

From this point onward, my daily routine after reaching each hostel will generally be the same: shower, laundry, snack, short rest, sightseeing, dinner, and sleep.

 

For both showering and laundry, I use a single bar of Marseille soap. Contrary to popular belief, this natural soap is excellent for personal hygiene as well as for washing clothes.

Laundry typically involves washing just three items—a T-shirt, underwear, and socks.

Most hostels have coin-operated washing machines (“lavadora”) and dryers (“secadora”). However, using these for just a few pieces of clothing often seems unnecessary, so handwashing is more common. Clothes are then hung up to dry, with the hope that they’ll be ready by morning.

Technical T-shirts and seamless underwear dry fairly quickly, but thick socks often struggle to dry in a single night, especially if the weather is humid.

Once showered, I put on clean clothes, which will also be my outfit for the next day.

 

***

After a short rest, I explore the area, even though my feet and legs protest against more walking.

Roncesvalles is not only one of the oldest and most significant pilgrimage sites on the Way of Saint James, but it’s also steeped in history. It’s famously linked to the Battle of Roncevaux Pass, where Charlemagne’s army was ambushed and defeated by the Basques.

I start my tour of the small historic center with its most iconic building, the Iglesia Collegiata de Santa María.

This 13th-century structure is one of Navarra’s finest examples of Gothic architecture. Inside, in the presbytery, stands the golden and silver statue of the Virgin of Roncesvalles, adorned with diamonds and cradling a tender infant Jesus.

Next, I visit the Capilla de Sancti Spiritus, also known as Charlemagne’s Silo.

This small, quadrangular chapel with a pyramid-shaped roof is believed to be the oldest building in Roncesvalles.

Legend has it that Charlemagne ordered its construction to bury Roland and the other knights who perished in the Battle of Roncesvalles in 778 AD.

 

***

Using my dinner voucher, I head to the designated restaurant at 19:00, located a short distance from the monastery complex.

I share a table with unfamiliar pilgrims, including Fernando, a 79-year-old Argentinian with an athletic build.

He proudly shows me photos from his recent marathon near Machu Picchu in Peru.

I’ll meet Fernando many more times along The Way. Chatting with him will always be a pleasure. I’ll watch him march past me with a steady, quick rhythm, disappearing from view. I mention this not to highlight competition but to emphasize his remarkable vitality.

Like him, I’ll encounter many older pilgrims who tackle The Way with similar determination and spirit.

 

Tonight’s “pilgrim menu”, featuring trout as the main dish and including wine, feels more satisfying than last night’s meal—and it’s cheaper, too.

 

At 20:00, I return to the Collegiata for the evening Mass.

At the end of the service, the pilgrims receive a special blessing.

The ceremony, held in the dimly lit Gothic church, is profoundly moving. For a moment, it feels as if I’ve traveled back to the Middle Ages.

After the Mass, one of the three priests, now without his cassock, offers to guide us through the religious complex.

We explore the crypt, the cloister, and the Capitular Hall, also called the Tower of San Agustín, where we see the tomb of Sancho VII the Strong, the king of Navarre. His enormous statue marks the site.

The tour ends at around 21:30.

 

Stepping outside after spending over an hour and a half in dimly lit rooms, I’m surprised to find daylight still lingering.

This will become a familiar pattern during The Way, and I’ll quickly get used to going to bed with light and waking up in darkness.

© Aldo Lardizzone 2020

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