Saint-Jean-Pied-de-Port

We have arrived. It is a tired, disheveled bunch that finally spills out of the car and onto the sidewalk but the worst part of the journey is now over.

After a small hiccup getting into the apartment we have rented here for the next two nights (apparently the older owner of place sometimes forgets that he has rented it and his daughter gets to scramble to let people in). It is a huge place – 3 bedrooms – and just a short walk from the center of town so will be a good base of operations to adjust to the time zone, pick up our Credencials (the passport you have stamped along the trail to record the journey) and take care of any last minute gear changes.

These few days will be all time we spend in France. We are thankful for this as we have quickly realized that unless we meet someone here named Monsieur Thibault, four years of high school french was wasted on us. From here, it is straight up over the Pyrenees, so F-Bomb will be skipping that leg and heading to Pamplona with the luggage for a fews days of R&R.

And so it begins.