Most people were ready to leave after breakfast. Corn Flakes and hot milk (not bad, actually), OJ, bread with butter and jam. It was raining, not hard. The uphills were tough. I started counting 20, then 30, 40, and 50 steps. I would stop to catch my breath and start again. Then the rain came down harder. It was very foggy and cold. I could not see 10 feet past the trail. An occasional car would go downhill. Never saw one going uphill. Then rain then pelted me, so I got my umbrella. Then the wind picked up. I am talking, very strong winds. The rain was coming down sideways. I would say I can do it, Je Peut, Yo Puedo... over and over. Whenever I would stop, it felt like the wind would get stronger, pushing my back as if to say, "Keep going". I thought of my mother. My legs were soaked. The backpack cover was blown off and I went up the hill to retrieve it. If I changed my stance, my umbrella would turn inside out. It started to tear. I started to cry. My step felt quicker, my shortness of breath seemed less, but my legs were freezing and my toes numb. I went on. 3 hours of this!! I saw no one for all that time. I felt so alone up there, thinking if something happened no one would see me for a long time. The Brits caught up with me. David would converse which helped me by taking my mind off how I was feeling. They offered to carry my pack. I cried, "NO!" We went on, and I was now soaked inside as well. They were as well. But did not seem to mind as much. Youth. And they´re used to cold and wet. I remember Stuart Wilde, from a CD collection I have saying, "I´ll just do cold and wet". I said that to myself, several times, "I´m just doing cold and wet". No biggie, right? I went up a very big hill, and I stopped to catch my breath. Sarah insisted she carry my sack. David helped me bundle up better. They were meeting someone in a car at the Vierge D'Orisson, which is a stone statue of a virgin who looks over the shepherds. We hadn´t realized we passed her awhile back, since we could not see past the fog. When Sarah took my sack I cried again. OMG what an awful feeling. I had broken down my resolve to do it myself. The car found us. The couple Philippe and Martin and their daughter, Pauline got out as they were going to walk with my English friends. Martin decided against it when she realized how bad the weather was. He too. They decided to drive to Roncesvalles and meet them there instead. Everyone´s packs went in and David insisted I leave with them. I wanted to. And I didn´t. The trembling in my body was uncontrollable. I turned away and bawled silently. I got in the car, he turned the heater on and I still shook violently for most of the ride. We went to a bar and they got me hot tea which helped tremendously. Back in the car now, I was shaking less. I was still so wet. We got to Roncesvalles and the now-shaking-from-the-cold group was already there! They said they were there in ahlf an hour. Damn it, I was so close to walking the whole stage. I didn´t know that. I regret it only a little. Next year I will do it again. But I will watch the weather before going. No blue skies, I'm not moving! We moved into our albergue, 120 beds big.
We got our credencial stamped, paid the 5€ and I got a bunk at the far end of the albergue. The place got full. We went to dinner and had another splendid meal. Leg of lamb in an exquisite sauce, fish consomme and a yummy local dessert, a yogurt cheesy mix with honey. Wine and bread of course.
Thank you to David for the invite. In the mountains through the fog, I could see thousand of white dots. No, I was not hallucinating... they were sheep/lambs grazing. I oculd not see their heads, jsut the white fluffy body. It seemed so tranquil despite the rain. It was actually beautiful, serene. Of course that was the foggy area, before the storm. I sometimes wondered if I was becoming delusional when I was walking in the worst conditions and wasn´t stoppping from tiredness. I saw a grave at one point and decided "no way am I going to die here", although I thought it could happen. I would see myself just giving up and falling on the ground and freezing to death. UGH!! It´s mean on the mind. After dinner, I settled in my bunk then headed to the church for the Pilgrim´s mass and blessing. Mass was boring - dedicated to pope Pius something. But then the priest did the pilgrim´s part. He named all the countries represented that night, then in each language (after he asked us to come to the front) he blessed our way. I went back to the albergue and chatted with several people. I hung out my clothes to dry. Everything in my pack was soaked!
Nadine and Elise were next to me, the Brits across the way and a Spanish couple which I would meet later were on my other side. Lights out at 10pm. I fell asleep immediately, after having such a tough day.
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