St Jean Pied de Port

When I woke up early this morning, it was pouring down. Bugger! (Pardon my French). I had to get out all my wet weather gear and abandon all hope of good views in the Pyrenees. Wearing a mask means steamed up glasses, especially in the rain. I saw on the TV news that from tomorrow Spain will only have masks mandatory on public transport and in hospitals.

My first task was to find an Orange store to buy a Spanish SIM card for my phone. It was very close to the hotel, but there was quite a crowd there as it had been closed over the Easter weekend. I paid €20 for a month, which I can then renew for a 2nd month.

Then I made my way to the Bus Station (also in walking distance) to catch the ALSA bus to SJPP. I was expecting a smallish vehicle as I knew the road over the mountains was full of switchback bends. In fact it was a full size coach. The driver was quite a petite woman, but I have to say she knew the road like the back of her hand. By good fortune, I was sitting on the side next to the hill, as opposed to the side of the bus dangerously near the drop-off on the valley side. I just hoped there would be no mad drivers coming too fast in the opposite direction.

The driver made an unscheduled stop just before Burguete. There was apparently a leak from the engine coolant. She sought help from the “Bomberos” at a fire station and two hefty guys came to her assistance. We were on the road again, but soon hit the cloud as we passed Roncesvalles. A French girl sitting in front of me had walked over the mountain in perfect weather during the weekend and was now on her way back home in Avignon: “Sur Le Pont…”. She must have heard that too much! When we arrived in SJPP, I saw her thumbing a lift. She had to get back to work, she said.

SJPP in the rain is pretty miserable: too many tourists walking about with nothing to do. I was annoyed to get a message that my hotel would only open at 5.00 pm so I had a bit of time to kill. I tried to pass some of it by having lunch, but it was now 3.00pm and all the restaurants had stopped serving. Finally one agreed to make me Croque Monsieur.

This was an interesting shop that sold spices and dried fruit. All the sacks on the right, as far as the woman in blue, were full of different varieties of pepper. I bought some crystallised orange for energy on the Camino.