Libre…
Today I arrived after two planes and what was supposed to be a train, I found a very kind taxi driver who offered to drive me instead to Saint-Jean-Pied-de-Port, the start of the camino Frances!
I had absolutely no idea what to expect from this part of France. I stepped off the plane in Biarritz to palm trees (who knew?!) and learned that this region is a popular beach destination off the Bay of Bayonne. Within minutes, though, we were winding through the beautiful Basque countryside alongside a river, surrounded by mountains with small villages of the traditional white houses with red shutters and roofs. Just stunning. My driver kept asking if I was okay. I was definitely tired from traveling, but mostly I was sitting there in awe thinking, I can’t believe I’m actually here.
Then, just before we reached Saint-Jean-Pied-de-Port, I looked up and saw enormous letters etched into the side of a mountain: LIBRE Of course, I immediately asked what it meant and had her pull over so I could take a picture.
Libre = Free.
She told me the letters had only recently been created there. And for some reason, at that moment, I felt a sense of calm I hadn’t felt in weeks. Free. It felt like a pretty incredible word to see as I arrived to begin this crazy journey.
Soon after, we drove into the tiny, charming, walled town of Saint-Jean-Pied-de-Port, and there were pilgrims EVERYWHERE. I was like a kid on Christmas morning. I jumped out of the taxi, asked my driver to take my picture to show my kids I’m here!After two planes—and what was supposed to be a train—I found a very kind taxi driver who offered to drive me instead to Saint-Jean-Pied-de-Port. And just like that, I finally made it to the “start line” of the Camino Francés.
I had absolutely no idea what to expect from this part of France. I stepped off the plane in Biarritz to palm trees (who knew?!) and learned that this region is a popular beach destination. Within minutes, though, we were winding through the beautiful Basque countryside alongside a river, surrounded by mountains and the traditional white houses with red shutters and roofs. Just stunning.
My driver kept asking if I was okay. I was definitely tired from traveling, but mostly I was sitting there in awe thinking, I can’t believe I’m actually here.
Then, just before we reached Saint-Jean-Pied-de-Port, I looked up and saw enormous letters stretched across the side of a mountain:
LIBRE
Of course, I immediately asked what it meant and had her pull over so I could take a picture.
Libre = Free.She told me the letters had only recently been put there. And for some reason, at that moment, I felt a sense of calm I hadn’t felt in weeks. Free. It felt like a pretty incredible word to see as I arrived to begin this crazy journey.
Soon after, we drove into the tiny, charming, walled town of Saint-Jean-Pied-de-Port, and there were pilgrims EVERYWHERE. I was like a kid on Christmas morning. I jumped out of the taxi, asked my driver to take my picture, and thought: I’m here!
People have asked if I’m traveling with a group or if an agency has booked everything for me. The answer is no.
Originally, I had hired an agency to plan my accommodations. But the more I researched and talked to people who had walked the Camino, the more I heard the same advice: part of the experience is letting go of being so programmed and finding your own Way. Yes, just like the Martin Sheen movie The Way. (If you haven’t seen it, watch it—it’s how my family first learned about the Camino.)
So…I canceled the agency. My plan was to arrive each day, find a place to stay, and trust that I would figure it out. Well, the Camino decided to test that philosophy about 15 minutes after I arrived. My first stop was the Pilgrim Office to get my pilgrim passport and scallop shell—the symbol carried by pilgrims walking to Santiago. The gentleman at the desk casually mentioned that it had been unusually busy and there were basically no rooms left in town. Okay then.I walked from hotel to hotel with my backpacks.No. No. No. And another no.Finally, I walked into an albergue—a pilgrim hostel—and they had one of their last beds available.A top bunk in a six-person room.YES, YOU READ THAT CORRECTLY.
So much for private hotels!
I was shown to my room and met my “roommate,” Dan from Scotland. Between my exhaustion, his Scottish accent, and my general state of being flustered, I understood approximately zero of what he said.So naturally, I responded, “Oh! I LOVE Scottish people! I met so many great Scottish people at the World Cup in Boston!” And then I quickly left the room.
I spent the next few hours wandering around this beautiful little town, meeting pilgrims from all over the world and carb-loading in the town square with a cold beer, cheese, and bread.
So on Day 1, before I’ve walked a single mile, the Camino has already given me my first lesson:You can make all the plans you want…and sometimes you just have to pivot. Tonight, I’m booking the next few nights because apparently I’m willing to surrender control…but maybe not ALL of it.
Hopefully, four hours of sleep in the last 24 will finally defeat the jet lag because tomorrow morning the real journey begins—with what is considered one of the hardest days of the Camino: crossing the Pyrenees.
Here we go.
Buen Camino. ❤️
PS..If you have not already sent me your intention if you want me to walk a mile for someone, please send along to me