November 10. SJPDP.

Mom! Ken cursed me and wished 10000 years of darkness on my bloodline.

Ken says he spent a lot of time muttering to himself on this walk.

Scott:  Ken spent a lot of time muttering “waaah” to himself.

Scott accusing Ken of going “waaaaaah” has been a running joke on this walk.

Will it ever end?

I had originally booked an apartment for 3 days but we got here a day early and the apartment was not available. We stayed somewhere else, had to be out by 930, then had to kick our heels with our packs until we could get into the next place at 300 pm.

The view from our window the first night.

The dramatic end to a very long walk!

After getting a coffee about 0.08 m (ie right next door) from our hotel, because we have learned coffee keeps Ken happy, we sat Ken on a park bench and headed next door to the market.  Monday is market day here and then the vendors move to a new town each day during the week.

I admit to buying a lot of this very expensive nougat to bring home. It is so good. He’s cutting up the salted caramel but we also got the mandarin orange and pistachio one.

Um???

We also bought a chunk of sheep cheese. Very yummy. You could get fat just visiting all the cheese vendors and eating their free samples.  And apparently berets are an actual thing in Basque country as we saw many men wearing them. They weren’t very common elsewhere in France anymore. Ken refuses to get one even though he’s half French.

Just loved watching this little girl playing while waiting in line to pay for my bag of apples and one turnip. Hey, Ken likes raw turnips. I hafta get veggies into him somehow!

Scott hit the cider stand.

Ken amused himself on the merry-go-round, much to the chagrin of this little girl who was waiting for it.  I took a turn too.

This gate is the official start of the Camino Frances to Santiago.

For Ethel.

Every pilgrim on the Camino recognizes this bridge.

La Porte d’Espagne – you walk through here to begin your Camino.

Pelote court.

She is our new little friend, a stray who showed up a couple weeks ago, according to the neighbour. We are literally across the street from the Pilgrim office and I asked about it there, as she seems to hang around the street by it. They said she was a stray and they feed her sometimes because she is so skinny. I contacted the local shelter but haven’t heard back yet. I’ve been feeding her (of course).

We watched these three planes race each other. One of them is decidedly faster than the others, then a fourth showed up. All likely heading to the south coast of Spain.

The pilgrim office.

Eggs are not refrigerated in France (as they are unwashed so don’t need to be) and you have to search the store to find them. Sometimes they are by the sugar, or maybe the milk, most of which is not refrigerated either as its UHT processed. They come in packs of 6 and in this store there was also the option of choosing your own eggs… From a wide selection of the same sized same colour eggs. Go figure.

It’s Christmas season already here.

Back home to our apartment we go with our load of groceries (and more cat food). Scott has been doing all the cooking on this trip whenever we have a kitchen.  And I am not complaining. Tonight was fresh pasta with a red wine bolognese sauce and a cucumber-onion salsa. But first we have to make it past the speed signs.

A quiet evening with the luxury of a washing machine but also an actual dryer, the first we’ve seen. Time to catch up on the blog!