Today we arrived in Saint-Jean-Pied-de-Port, the starting point of the most traditional route (the Camino Frances) of the Camino de Santiago from southwest France to northwest Spain.  Saint-Jean-Pied-de-Port literally means “St. John at the Foot of the Pass”.  (Although some biblical scholars claim the more pure translation of “Saint John of the Many Hyphens”.)

We flew from Rome through Paris to Biarritz/Bayonne on Tuesday afternoon.  We were scheduled to take a train Wednesday morning from Bayonne to Saint-Jean-Pied-de-Port (we will use the abbreviation SJPDP for the rest of this post to avoid my keyboard locking up ———————————-).  With rain coming down continuously since Monday, the train tracks were closed and we instead took a winding bus ride in the foothills of the Pyrenees to SJPDP.  We got soaked as we walked 10 minutes from the bus station to our hotel right next to the river in town (aka SJPDP).  The deluge had created a rushing torrent that evoked images of Noah.  I asked the hotel manager if the river was cresting and if there was a danger of flooding.  He replied with a quick, reasssuring “non problem”…but then he asked suddenly “Is your room on the 1st or 2nd floor?”  Before I could reply “second”…he just started laughing…I think at his own comedic timing…but most likely at my distressed face.  Ah…the Basque/French “joie de vivre” (which I’m quite certain is French for “joke is on you”).

We stopped by the Pilgrim’s Office to get the first stamp in our pilgrim’s passport.  We will collect these stamps at every town we stay in along The Way.  The office staff people appeared to be pensioners and they were very helpful.  They told us the weather was quite pleasant last week, but the forecast calls for a 90-100% chance of continuous driving rain for the next 3 days.  They smiled and said “C’est la vie” and laughed.  Apparently everybody is a funny man here.  Looking forward to testing our waterproof gear.

Our hotel restaurant tonight served traditional food of the Gascony region…including garbure…a thick, cold-weather soup that we first tasted in Tokyo at a dinner hosted by our neighbors Jean-Marc and Constance.  Jean-Marc grew up in this area in southwest France and was instructed in the secrets of how to prepare garbure properly (I believe it is part of some secret regional rite of passage).  I learned 3 things about garbure that night.

1) The correct pronunciation is virtually impossible for an American Midwesterner.  It looks simply like “garb your”.  In reality, you must swallow half your tongue to come close.  Click on this link…and hear for yourself!   8F1C00FF-DBF3-4FAD-8234-C5209EE3DC6A

2) The ingredients for this dish will absolutely lock up your heart and you are better not knowing them at all.

3) It is delicious, so just eat it.  It will help you through the long winter…and reduce your pulse rate.

Looking forward to hitting the road tomorrow.  We have plenty of garbure in our system to sustain us for the 18-mile hike!