September 5, 2018
- Air Route: Newark, USA to Madrid, Spain to San Sebastian, Spain
- Walking Route: San Sebastian, Spain to Hendaye, France
- Train Route: Hendaye, France to Bayonne to St. Jean Pied de Port
I’m finally in France, sitting in an albergue in St. Jean while the rain pours down outside. It was an exhausting trip to get here from New Jersey, but I’m finally here.
All told, my plans went off without a hitch. I left Newark on an evening flight on September 4th, and arrived in Madrid the following morning. I even scored a last minute aisle seat on the flight due to some mutual needs.
How did I do this?? A little bit of kindness. I was sitting in a row with four seats across. I originally had one of the two middle seats, while the other middle seat in my row remained vacant. Meanwhile, a 20-something guy built like a linebacker was squeezed into the aisle seat next to me.
I could see how uncomfortable this young man feeling. His hips barely fit between the armrests. And, truth be told, I much prefer the aisle seat anyway. So I offered to swap with him – so he could have the two middle seats – while I got the comfort of an aisle seat. Win-win!
Swapping seats turned out to be a great result. I didn’t sleep at all during the red-eye flight to Spain, but at least I could stretch my legs out and walk around as much as I needed.
Spain
As I wrote about in my last post, I had quite the journey ahead of me when I landed in Spain – with lots of moving pieces. It turned out to be free of any major disasters (spoiler alert) and I made it to my destination as expected Wednesday night.
That’s not to say it was easy though…
Upon arrival at the Madrid airport, I thought I’d be able to collect my bags and just walk through the airport to catch my next flight. Much to my surprise this wasn’t possible. You see, only three of the four terminals in Madrid airport are actually connected to each other. And wouldn’t you know it, my connecting flight departed from that single remote terminal.
Luckily, I found an airport employee who spoke English, and she was able to direct me where I needed to go before I got hopelessly lost.
The journey to Terminal 4 required a bus ride several miles away, so I’m sure glad I didn’t waste a whole bunch of time stubbornly wandering around the main airport without asking for help. By the time I arrived, there’s was barely 45 minutes left before my flight departed, and I had just enough time to check my trekking poles and bag.
It was a very short flight to San Sebastian. Too short to even catch a quick nap. Before I knew it, I was back on the ground and walking into the small airport in this northern coastal town along the Spanish-French border.
I had 4-5 hours before my train departed for the next leg of my journey. So I moved to a private corner of the lobby and exploded the contents from my duffel bag into a giant pile on the floor. Then I took my sweet time re-packing everything into my hiking pack before emerging to walk into France.
Getting to France
The walk between the San Sebastian airport (in Spain) and the Hendaye train station (in France) isn’t very far. Perhaps only two miles. I’ll be walking much further than that each day on the Camino, so I decided to forego a taxi and just walk to the train station.
The route was anything but straightforward though. Like many European cities, the roads meander and twist. Then you hit a roundabout (traffic circle) where 4, 5, or 6 roads come together. Choosing which exit to leave is more difficult than you might expect. At least I had the forethought to download the walking route to my phone before departing the US.
Upon arriving at the train station, I bought my ticket to town of St. Jean Pied de Port, where I’d start the Camino tomorrow. But, I still had about three hours to kill before the train arrived.
The lack of sleep was starting to hit me and I was feeling punchy after being awake for the past 30 hours, so I went in search of somewhere to eat. I found a small grocery near the train station and decided to grab lunch and a makeshift dinner for the ride. Oh man, I completely forgot how good fresh European baguettes were until I started eating.
The train finally arrived and I boarded for Bayonne. It was a typical European train ride with stops every 15 minutes or so. As we passed each stop I fastidiously checked the signs as a game to keep awake. By now, I was worried I might drift off and miss my stop, and that would be tragic.
When I finally transferred trains in Bayonne, it was evident that the passenger demographics had changed drastically. There were giant hiking packs everywhere on my new train. So either I’d surreptitiously stepped into a major backpacking convention, or EVERYONE onboard was headed to walk the Camino.
Rain, rain go away
As the train finally began to near St. Jean Pied de Port, I could see dark clouds beginning to roll in. Soon there were small raindrops. Then it was lightly raining. By the time we arrived at the station to disembark, it was pouring cats and dogs!
Luckily, I brought an umbrella to give me some much-needed shade during the dry meseta (plains and farmland) I’d encounter in about a week. And, it did a perfectly fine job of keeping me dry in the downpour as I made my way to the Pilgrim’s Office to purchase my credencial.
It seems the entire trainload of people raced to the Pilgrim’s Office ahead of me in an effort to limit how wet they got sans umbrella. When I arrived, the small waiting room inside was overflowing with people, and the line snaked outside.
As I stood in line, and guy with a very unusual lopsided haircut ambled behind me. He was drenched and I felt pretty bad for him. I don’t think he spoke any English, but the universal gesture of “come close, you can share my umbrella” seemed to work. And it wasn’t too long before we finally had our turn to move inside.
Soon I had my credential in hand, and I went in search of my first night’s sleep in an albergue (or pilgrim’s hostel).
My first albergue
In preparation for my trip, I read that it’s a good idea to pre-book an albergue in St. Jean if you are arriving later in the day. They tend to fill up very quickly, and you don’t want to be walking around from place to place looking for room at the inn if you’re bone-tired.
I’m so glad I heeded this advice. After I left the Pilgrim’s Office, I walked down the main road and must have passed at least six albergues with signs announcing “complet” (full) on their doors.
The only thing more miserable than walking around in strange town in search of a room when you’re jet-lagged, is trying to find one in those conditions when it’s pouring rain and dark. So, thank goodness for my reservation!
The albergue’s owner was busy checking an entire group of people in when I arrived, so I got the benefit of hearing his spiel in English multiple times.
I was assigned to a tiny room with a single bunk bed in it upstairs. I soon discovered my temporary roommate was already there and she’d claimed the bottom bunk. Time for a quick shower to get all the travel grime off of me. and get some much needed sleep
Tomorrow I start the Camino!
[Note: Unfortunately I didn’t take any photos of St. Jean Pied de Port the evening I arrived. Between the pouring rain, getting to my albergue, and being so tired from the travel, I just didn’t have any energy left for photos. I’ll have to remember to be more vigilant in the future.]