At Estacion Canfranc, we wandered around the old station, once the largest in Europe, which has fallen into disrepair. The main part is surround by scaffolding now, with extensive repairs being made. There is one track that still hosts two trains a day into Spain. We walked around several of the old station platforms, and inside some abandoned and vandalized rail passengers cars, now home to cats.
When the Office de Tourismo opened at 1000 (scheduled opening -- 0930), we received information that only two places of accommodation were open, and one was full. We went to the other, but it was locked tight, so we ate a tortilla patata, drank a cafe con leche, and decided to walk on to the only open hotel in Villanua, that would close at 1430 to reopen at 1900. It was 1145, so we put it into afterburner, and headed down the road.
We covered a French two hour and thirty minute walk in one hour and forty-five minutes! The thirty knot tailwind helped. It was six degrees Centigrade in Estacion Canfranc (Canfranc Estacioin in Spanish), and was snowing in Somport we discovered later. As the weather system passed by, the temperature dropped and the wind pickup speed. When we would hit narrow places in the valley down the Rio Aragon, the wind would accelerate. We were being buffeted around by the gusts, but kept moving. It took a wide stance (no reference to Senator Larry Craig) to keep from being blown into the lane of traffic. Traffic was sparse because the roads were closed in Somport, and only tunnel traffic was being permitted up the valley roads, so we did not feel particularly unsafe.
We arrived in Villanua to a roadblock by the Spanish police armed with the latest in fully automatic weapons. They smiled and let us through. Earlier an official car stopped going the other way, the uniformed person inside got out, smiled at us, pulled out a camera, and took our pictures. Two crazy pilgrims in full rain gear fighting the wind and rain down the valley! I am glad we could make his day enjoyable.
After wandering the new part of Villanua, we asked at a gas station for the hotel, and were told to go back past the police barricade to the old part of town. We did, found the hotel locked tight at 1345, and cursed the midday closing systems of both Spain and France. We then telephoned and reached a recording, started walking around the block, and found the door next to the hotel unlocked, and it opened into the hotel staircase and eventually the bar for which the door was locked. We checked in, showered, napped, and headed down for a very tasty 2000 hour dinner.