gerardcarey
Veteran Member
- Time of past OR future Camino
- CFx2, CPx1
This is a bit long but I wanted to tell my story of the Route Napoleon, for scaredy-cats like me. I faced the mountain with some trepidation.
The link to Part 2 - Orisson to Roncesvalles, is at the very end of this post.
Fell down the wet slippery steps going down into the Hermitage Museum in Amsterdam didnât I. My back cracked against the step rises on the way down. How could I be this stupid knowing whatâs ahead of me?
Clumsy galoot I am.
Itâs 4 or 5 days later and the bruise is coming out, but itâs still hurting. Iâm in St Jean Pied de Port, standing on the bridge over the River Nive at the bottom of Rue de la Citadelle. Iâm looking up towards the Pyrenees, wondering if I can make it up there the next morning.
âYouâre only going to Orisson, itâs only 7 or 8kâs, donât be a pussy,â Iâm thinking.
I go for a slow test walk for half an hour up the Route Napoleon, then back again. No worries there cobber, but I decide to be careful, send my pack ahead.
After a walk up to look around the Citadelle at the top of the hill, I wander back and stop at the hustle of the Pilgrim office. These kind folks take my details, give me a credential, and advise that the weather tomorrow should be fine, although to prepare for chilly winds up high. Surely I'll be ok. I'm only going the 8ks to Orisson.
Next morning is fine and crisp. A little floppy daypack holds my poncho, two water bottles, guide book and some tucker. I take my main pack to the Auberge office, complete a supplied stringed envelope with the address details, enclose some euros, tie it to my pack. The auberge will advise the forwarding service who will collect my pack and deliver it to the address on the envelope. Everything's hunky dory, hopefully.
Lazy me, around tennish I head off, from LâAuberge du Pelerin, down Rue de la Citadelle, thru the arch, over the bridge and up Rue dâEspagne. Out and up into the countryside I go.
Iâm trying to work my Pacer Poles as per the instructions, and putting into practice all the advice given me by our forum members.
âHead up. Shoulders back. Open your chest. Slow down! This is not a race!â
Every five minutes or so I repeat my mantra until I find a gentle steady rhythm.
Guess what! Yellow arrows! Iâm on the Way!
What a lovely walk this is. Up thru the lush, green treed, farmed foothills.
When my legs get a little weary I stop, pull my camera out and take a photo.
I figure if I do the camera thing then fit hiking type pilgrims wonât know that Iâm resting, and not really a proper pilgrim yet.
Iâm âBuen Caminoingâ everyone I meet.
Nearly all pass by. Theyâre walking faster than me. Thatâs good.
There's about three really quite steep sections, of about 100 metres each. That's ok. I just slow right down and plod gently uphill.
At an orientation display board I have a good break and a munch-up. I sit in the grass with my boots off. From here I overlook the villages in the valleys far below, and the beautiful countryside up thru which Iâve walked.
I head off again, repeating my mantra. Getting steadily higher now. Iâm looking for the tree just before Orisson. Iâve seen it so many times in photos, sitting on the side of the Way with Refuge Orisson nestled into the hillside behind it.
Round a corner and suddenly here it is! And here is me!
Made it just fine didnât I. Itâs nowhere near as tough as I feared.
Three and a quarter hours. I think Iâm going to like this pilgrim lark.
The lasses at Orisson find my reservation and check me in.
Hereâs my pack. So that bag forwarding thing works then.
They give me a shower token, tell me the time for dinner and show me the way to my dorm bunk. I shower, dress, wash my clothes. Gotta get into this routine now.
I get a beer from the bar and wander across the road to a seating area with fine views down into deep valleys and across the tops of Pyrennean Peaks towards the Mediterranean.
Canât think of a better place to relax on a fine afternoon.
Beer finished I go back to the dorm and climb onto my comfy bunk for a rest.
I glance at Brierleyâs Map Guide, checking the elevation for tomorrow.
Then out comes the Kindle. I have all my other books on it.
I first check Jack Hittâs book "Off the Road". Iâve decided to read the chapters that corresponded to my journey as I progress along the Way.
I read and learn, until Jack leaves St Jean.
Next is the great classic of French literature. "The Song of Roland".
It's about Roland & Charlemagne and their travails in Basque country. I want to be a little knowledgeable on what happened, as tomorrow Iâll be up near where the battle took place.
Iâll drink from Rolandâs fountain. How cool is that!
Itâs quite a long poem so I skip quickly thru groups of stanzas, just to get the hang of the events which led up to the Battle of Roncesvalles Pass, and then to the battle itself.
Hereâs a stanza about one of Rolandâs knights, Gerein, engaging the moor Malprimis of Brigal.
Gerein to Malprimis of Brigal sped,
Whose good shield stood him no whit in stead;
Its knob of crystal was cleft in twain,
And one half fell on the battle plain.
Right through the hauberk, and through the skin,
He drave the lance to the flesh within;
Prone and sudden the heathen fell,
And Satan carried his soul to hell.
Itâs rollicking good poetry. Highly recommended reading.
âThe moon! the moon!â a voice exclaims. Iâm off the bunk and to the window. I see it rising in the East over the Pyrenees, under high cloud cover. What a sight.
I grab the camera and down I go and across to the viewing platform where I happily snap away. I figure itâs best to take a heap of shots and maybe Iâll fluke one really good one every now and then.
Then I decide to climb up the hill behind Refuge Orisson and get an overview photo.
Not a good idea. I clamber over a wire fence and up the hill, but on the damp grass I slip-stumble out of my rubber scuffs and stand on a thistle. I hobble back down and sit outside the Refuge door, pulling prickles out of my foot.
âDinner time,â someone calls. Diners, I count 47, gather and sit along both sides of three long wooden tables. Bread accompanies big tureens of thickly vegetabled soup. Yum! Iâm starving. I only have three helpings. Then big dishes of meat and bean casserole. Only two helpings. Then a little crĂšme caramel thingy for dessert. All accompanied by big earthenware jugs of red wine spread along the tables.
If the tucker is always going to be this good Iâm going to be one happy pilgrim.
Iâve ducked out to the loo and am squeezing back between diners when the head server lass calls us to attention. She introduces, to our great applause, the chef and staff who have prepared and served our meal. She then tells of the tradition that after dinner pilgrims stand, state their name, where they come from and the reason they are walking the Camino.
Iâve heard about this. They do it at some of the Auberges in St Jean also.
âAnd as you are already standing up weâll start with you,â she says pointing at me.
âOk,â I say. The vino tinto has given me courage.
I state my name and my reasons for doing the Camino and everybody applauds.
Then follows an uneasy silence. Whose going to be next?
âRight,â I say, âIâm going to nominate the next speaker, and then that person will speak then nominate the next, and so on until we are all done. I nominate you.â I point to a lady at the next table.
From all round the world theyâve come.
One of our fellow pilgrims is a priest, who tells us he has walked the Camino eight times, and advises that it will change our lives forever.
Weâll see I guess.
I only have to winkle a few shy ones up to speak.
Three quarters of an hour, vino tinto, and lots of applause and laughter later, we are indeed a happy group.
I recall âThe Canterbury Talesâ, and Geoffrey Chaucerâs newly met, happy group of pilgrims, after their first dinner, 600 years ago.
âI was of their fellowship anon,â he said, and âWell we weren easĂšd at the best.â
Things havenât changed Geoffrey.
Something special happens here.
We are ready for a reasonably early night, and as I snuggly down into my sleeping bag Iâm hoping I wonât snore and annoy my pilgrim dorm mates. My prickled foot seems ok, but Iâm a bit concerned about tomorrow.
17ks over the mountain to Roncesvalles. Never walked that far in one day before. A daily 10k brisk city walk, with a half hour break in the middle, is what my training regime finally reached.
I have decided to carry my pack tomorrow, but to again be very careful about taking it easy.
My pacing experience tells me that brisk walking equates to 5ks an hour, steady strolling/sauntering to 4ks, and steady uphill to 3ks.
Tomorrow then, at say 3ks an hour, with three good breaks, thatâs 7ish hours.
If I leave at 8am, and all goes according to plan, I should make it to Roncesvalles around 3pm. That will give me plenty of daylight in case anything untoward happens. The weather forecast is again for clear skies with chilly winds across the tops.
Anyway, there will be lots of pilgrims around to help if I get into trouble. The fit hiking type pilgrims walking St Jean to Roncesvalles in one day (most people do) should be catching up and passing me from late morning onward.
Iâm a little tentative, a little excited, but I think Iâve covered everything, and I reckon I should be fine.
Sleep comes quickly.
Regards
Gerard.
John OâHaganâs translation of the great French classic âThe Song Of Rolandâ, from where the above verse is taken, is online. Itâs a bit long, but worth persevering with, even if you skip thru it like I did.
http://www.bartleby.com/49/2/
Michael Murphy has also placed online his wonderful translation of Geoffrey Chaucerâs âThe Canterbury Tales. I swear itâs not difficult, and, if you have the time and inclination, you will be entertained and rewarded with Geoffreyâs stunning descriptions of medieval pilgrims who are about to set off.
http://academic.brooklyn.cuny.edu/webcore/murphy/canterbury/2genpro.pdf
And lastly the original guide book to Santiago. Book five of the âThe Codex Calixtinusâ.
A 12th century manuscript believed to have been arranged by the French scholar Aymeric Picaud. It gives detail and advice for pilgrims going to Santiago. In it are found descriptions of the routes at the time, works of art to be seen along the way, and the customs of the local people.
(In the movie âThe Wayâ this is the guide book that Jack was rambling on about when Tom got drunk and was locked up)
It is informative and entertaining and whatever you do donât miss chapter V11.
This online translation courtesy of Denis Murphy.
https://sites.google.com/site/caminodesantiagoproject/home
Part 2. Tenderly over the Mountain.....Orisson to Roncesvalles
https://www.caminodesantiago.me/com...untain-âŠpart-2-orisson-to-roncesvalles.23525/
The link to Part 2 - Orisson to Roncesvalles, is at the very end of this post.
Fell down the wet slippery steps going down into the Hermitage Museum in Amsterdam didnât I. My back cracked against the step rises on the way down. How could I be this stupid knowing whatâs ahead of me?
Clumsy galoot I am.
Itâs 4 or 5 days later and the bruise is coming out, but itâs still hurting. Iâm in St Jean Pied de Port, standing on the bridge over the River Nive at the bottom of Rue de la Citadelle. Iâm looking up towards the Pyrenees, wondering if I can make it up there the next morning.
âYouâre only going to Orisson, itâs only 7 or 8kâs, donât be a pussy,â Iâm thinking.
I go for a slow test walk for half an hour up the Route Napoleon, then back again. No worries there cobber, but I decide to be careful, send my pack ahead.
After a walk up to look around the Citadelle at the top of the hill, I wander back and stop at the hustle of the Pilgrim office. These kind folks take my details, give me a credential, and advise that the weather tomorrow should be fine, although to prepare for chilly winds up high. Surely I'll be ok. I'm only going the 8ks to Orisson.
Next morning is fine and crisp. A little floppy daypack holds my poncho, two water bottles, guide book and some tucker. I take my main pack to the Auberge office, complete a supplied stringed envelope with the address details, enclose some euros, tie it to my pack. The auberge will advise the forwarding service who will collect my pack and deliver it to the address on the envelope. Everything's hunky dory, hopefully.
Lazy me, around tennish I head off, from LâAuberge du Pelerin, down Rue de la Citadelle, thru the arch, over the bridge and up Rue dâEspagne. Out and up into the countryside I go.
Iâm trying to work my Pacer Poles as per the instructions, and putting into practice all the advice given me by our forum members.
âHead up. Shoulders back. Open your chest. Slow down! This is not a race!â
Every five minutes or so I repeat my mantra until I find a gentle steady rhythm.
Guess what! Yellow arrows! Iâm on the Way!
What a lovely walk this is. Up thru the lush, green treed, farmed foothills.
When my legs get a little weary I stop, pull my camera out and take a photo.
I figure if I do the camera thing then fit hiking type pilgrims wonât know that Iâm resting, and not really a proper pilgrim yet.
Iâm âBuen Caminoingâ everyone I meet.
Nearly all pass by. Theyâre walking faster than me. Thatâs good.
There's about three really quite steep sections, of about 100 metres each. That's ok. I just slow right down and plod gently uphill.
At an orientation display board I have a good break and a munch-up. I sit in the grass with my boots off. From here I overlook the villages in the valleys far below, and the beautiful countryside up thru which Iâve walked.
I head off again, repeating my mantra. Getting steadily higher now. Iâm looking for the tree just before Orisson. Iâve seen it so many times in photos, sitting on the side of the Way with Refuge Orisson nestled into the hillside behind it.
Round a corner and suddenly here it is! And here is me!
Made it just fine didnât I. Itâs nowhere near as tough as I feared.
Three and a quarter hours. I think Iâm going to like this pilgrim lark.
The lasses at Orisson find my reservation and check me in.
Hereâs my pack. So that bag forwarding thing works then.
They give me a shower token, tell me the time for dinner and show me the way to my dorm bunk. I shower, dress, wash my clothes. Gotta get into this routine now.
I get a beer from the bar and wander across the road to a seating area with fine views down into deep valleys and across the tops of Pyrennean Peaks towards the Mediterranean.
Canât think of a better place to relax on a fine afternoon.
Beer finished I go back to the dorm and climb onto my comfy bunk for a rest.
I glance at Brierleyâs Map Guide, checking the elevation for tomorrow.
Then out comes the Kindle. I have all my other books on it.
I first check Jack Hittâs book "Off the Road". Iâve decided to read the chapters that corresponded to my journey as I progress along the Way.
I read and learn, until Jack leaves St Jean.
Next is the great classic of French literature. "The Song of Roland".
It's about Roland & Charlemagne and their travails in Basque country. I want to be a little knowledgeable on what happened, as tomorrow Iâll be up near where the battle took place.
Iâll drink from Rolandâs fountain. How cool is that!
Itâs quite a long poem so I skip quickly thru groups of stanzas, just to get the hang of the events which led up to the Battle of Roncesvalles Pass, and then to the battle itself.
Hereâs a stanza about one of Rolandâs knights, Gerein, engaging the moor Malprimis of Brigal.
Gerein to Malprimis of Brigal sped,
Whose good shield stood him no whit in stead;
Its knob of crystal was cleft in twain,
And one half fell on the battle plain.
Right through the hauberk, and through the skin,
He drave the lance to the flesh within;
Prone and sudden the heathen fell,
And Satan carried his soul to hell.
Itâs rollicking good poetry. Highly recommended reading.
âThe moon! the moon!â a voice exclaims. Iâm off the bunk and to the window. I see it rising in the East over the Pyrenees, under high cloud cover. What a sight.
I grab the camera and down I go and across to the viewing platform where I happily snap away. I figure itâs best to take a heap of shots and maybe Iâll fluke one really good one every now and then.
Then I decide to climb up the hill behind Refuge Orisson and get an overview photo.
Not a good idea. I clamber over a wire fence and up the hill, but on the damp grass I slip-stumble out of my rubber scuffs and stand on a thistle. I hobble back down and sit outside the Refuge door, pulling prickles out of my foot.
âDinner time,â someone calls. Diners, I count 47, gather and sit along both sides of three long wooden tables. Bread accompanies big tureens of thickly vegetabled soup. Yum! Iâm starving. I only have three helpings. Then big dishes of meat and bean casserole. Only two helpings. Then a little crĂšme caramel thingy for dessert. All accompanied by big earthenware jugs of red wine spread along the tables.
If the tucker is always going to be this good Iâm going to be one happy pilgrim.
Iâve ducked out to the loo and am squeezing back between diners when the head server lass calls us to attention. She introduces, to our great applause, the chef and staff who have prepared and served our meal. She then tells of the tradition that after dinner pilgrims stand, state their name, where they come from and the reason they are walking the Camino.
Iâve heard about this. They do it at some of the Auberges in St Jean also.
âAnd as you are already standing up weâll start with you,â she says pointing at me.
âOk,â I say. The vino tinto has given me courage.
I state my name and my reasons for doing the Camino and everybody applauds.
Then follows an uneasy silence. Whose going to be next?
âRight,â I say, âIâm going to nominate the next speaker, and then that person will speak then nominate the next, and so on until we are all done. I nominate you.â I point to a lady at the next table.
From all round the world theyâve come.
One of our fellow pilgrims is a priest, who tells us he has walked the Camino eight times, and advises that it will change our lives forever.
Weâll see I guess.
I only have to winkle a few shy ones up to speak.
Three quarters of an hour, vino tinto, and lots of applause and laughter later, we are indeed a happy group.
I recall âThe Canterbury Talesâ, and Geoffrey Chaucerâs newly met, happy group of pilgrims, after their first dinner, 600 years ago.
âI was of their fellowship anon,â he said, and âWell we weren easĂšd at the best.â
Things havenât changed Geoffrey.
Something special happens here.
We are ready for a reasonably early night, and as I snuggly down into my sleeping bag Iâm hoping I wonât snore and annoy my pilgrim dorm mates. My prickled foot seems ok, but Iâm a bit concerned about tomorrow.
17ks over the mountain to Roncesvalles. Never walked that far in one day before. A daily 10k brisk city walk, with a half hour break in the middle, is what my training regime finally reached.
I have decided to carry my pack tomorrow, but to again be very careful about taking it easy.
My pacing experience tells me that brisk walking equates to 5ks an hour, steady strolling/sauntering to 4ks, and steady uphill to 3ks.
Tomorrow then, at say 3ks an hour, with three good breaks, thatâs 7ish hours.
If I leave at 8am, and all goes according to plan, I should make it to Roncesvalles around 3pm. That will give me plenty of daylight in case anything untoward happens. The weather forecast is again for clear skies with chilly winds across the tops.
Anyway, there will be lots of pilgrims around to help if I get into trouble. The fit hiking type pilgrims walking St Jean to Roncesvalles in one day (most people do) should be catching up and passing me from late morning onward.
Iâm a little tentative, a little excited, but I think Iâve covered everything, and I reckon I should be fine.
Sleep comes quickly.
Regards
Gerard.
John OâHaganâs translation of the great French classic âThe Song Of Rolandâ, from where the above verse is taken, is online. Itâs a bit long, but worth persevering with, even if you skip thru it like I did.
http://www.bartleby.com/49/2/
Michael Murphy has also placed online his wonderful translation of Geoffrey Chaucerâs âThe Canterbury Tales. I swear itâs not difficult, and, if you have the time and inclination, you will be entertained and rewarded with Geoffreyâs stunning descriptions of medieval pilgrims who are about to set off.
http://academic.brooklyn.cuny.edu/webcore/murphy/canterbury/2genpro.pdf
And lastly the original guide book to Santiago. Book five of the âThe Codex Calixtinusâ.
A 12th century manuscript believed to have been arranged by the French scholar Aymeric Picaud. It gives detail and advice for pilgrims going to Santiago. In it are found descriptions of the routes at the time, works of art to be seen along the way, and the customs of the local people.
(In the movie âThe Wayâ this is the guide book that Jack was rambling on about when Tom got drunk and was locked up)
It is informative and entertaining and whatever you do donât miss chapter V11.
This online translation courtesy of Denis Murphy.
https://sites.google.com/site/caminodesantiagoproject/home
Part 2. Tenderly over the Mountain.....Orisson to Roncesvalles
https://www.caminodesantiago.me/com...untain-âŠpart-2-orisson-to-roncesvalles.23525/
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