Larceveau to St-Jean-Pied-de-Port 17k

And a short day's walking it was. We had a leisurely breakfast after plenty of rain overnight. It was dry as we started out walking on pleasant made up tracks parallel with the main road through the valley. It was very noticeable how well maintained the Basque farm houses were - often newly painted with immaculate gardens. The local sheep-farming and cheese production seems to be very profitable, directly or indirectly.

We passed the Croix de Galzetaburu after 5k. This too is a place recognised as a joining of the routes from various directions. Some of the inscriptions are in Basque. So with one loop to the right of the main road and three loops off to the left we arrived at St Jean le Vieux by 11.45. The village was 'en fete' (mothers day?) and the flowers were being transferred back from the Pelote court which forms the village centre to the church. This red sandstone church is considered to be "typically Basque" with two levels of ornate wooden galleries all round the nave. A similar rectangular box to the Vienna Musikverein - I wonder if the acoustics are the same!

As we had a coffee in the square another band of walkers set off refreshed with a rousing chorus of "Ultreia!" Exhibitionists. An hour later like so many before us we too arrived at the Porte St Jacques of st Jean Pied de Port, a suitably specific recognition of our walk so far: 735k to date.


A sense of occasion is generated by your arrival being down a suitably picturesque old street, past the Pilgrim Advice Centre and various hostelries. Someone was checking for advice about their donkey. Over 30,000 passing pilgrims registered there last year. We were chiefly concerned that the coincidence with Mothers day might make it difficult to get lunch so we stopped at the first available Basque place, Iratzc Ostatua, and it turned out to be good - specialising in cider. They were very welcoming, particularly as after 15 miles across country in high humidity we may not have been at our most fragrant. I had a memorable cèpes omelette. The Basque language seems to be a bit like Breton - difficult to get into or to relate to anything else.

The Hotel Camou was duly found on the outskirts of town. It has seen better days. After a scrub up we went for a stroll around but the light drizzle discouraged too much curiosity. the Pilgrim Advice Centre was struggling to cope with a party of 15 Koreans who needed simultaneous guidance. We broached our idea of doing some of the uphill walk tomorrow and then breaking off to complete it the following day and that found favour as being eminently sensible.

After hot chocolates we went back for supper at the hotel. Liz had another hot bath to get warm!