I found myself in Geneva this morning after my daughter and son-in-law accompanied me to town yesterday. We had a lovely time touring local museums and churches. And I even got my first stamp of the trip at Saint Pierre church. I saw them back to their return train and we said so long until the autumn. Very grateful to have had time with them in their new home.
The 4:15 am alarm gently nudged me into my day. I had time to get a coffee from the lobby bar and get change back to have something to leave the maid. The 5:00 shuttle to the nearby airport left on time, as things always do in Switzerland, barring a fatal accident. I was the first in line at the Swiss Air counter and my pack fit neatly into their luggage tray. And after waiting at the gate, the plane departed on schedule. A wonderful ending to my time in Switzerland.
Passport control was a breeze at the Biarritz airport and my pack was already circling the luggage carousel when I walked out.
At the airport bus stop I chatted with Stephanie, a young British citizen who originally emigrated from Hong Kong.
She’s a jade jewelry designer and also works in the snowboard industry. She’s visiting town to go surfing in Biarritz, which is apparently something it’s known for. She kindly helped me decipher the bus schedule and also routed me from my stop to the Biarritz station. I had the option to take a second bus but opted for the walk to stretch my legs.
I found myself winding through a lush green park alongside a lake, surrounded by birdsong and dogs on off-leash walks with their owners. Much better than standing at the hot bus stop.
Getting to the starting point at Saint Jean Pied De Port requires at least two busses and an 80 minute train. I was grateful that the train ticket machine had an English option – and that, unlike Switzerland, both the bus to the next station and the subsequent train were late. It allowed us enough time make both connections.
I say ‘us’ because my pilgrim tribe is reconvening. It’s easy to spot us. Backpacks gradually surfaced by the second station and striking up conversations wasn’t difficult.
On the bus to Bayonne I met a small group from Scotland. We compared notes on plans and prior experiences. I read their list of destinations and noticed they’re heading on a different route tomorrow- along the lower road that borders the highway and not over the mountains. They didn’t realize this prior and decided to make plans to reroute to Borda, as they’d been looking forward to the mountain pass.
On the train I met two pilgrims from Brazil and another from Scotland. Stuart, the pilgrim from Scotland, is walking to raise funds for a charity for Alzheimers. We’re heading for the same small hostel tomorrow so I’ll get his charity’s information and post it.
Upon arrival I had no accommodations booked. I walked down the main street and the albergues were either fully booked or didn’t open until 4. The parish shelter opened at 3, and I was tempted to wait for it, but – sitting on their stoop I realized that other pilgrims might not be able to afford more than the parish shelter. So I walked back to one of the places that had been full as I’d noticed their free WiFi password was posted in the lobby. Used that to pull up Booking.com, found a co-ed dorm nearby with availability, and locked in my reservation.
That gave me 3 hours to look around town a bit, a luxury I haven’t yet had for SJPD. This is my third time here and on the prior visits I made it to town late and left early. I stopped by the gorgeous church for a prayer and to light a candle.
Found a fragrant spice shop and picked up cinnamon (for my coffee). Also found a shop with small bars of locally-made soap, sold in little tins. I bought one not only for the soap but so that I can use the tin for my cinnamon once the little baggie of spice is opened.
Picked up a small tin of Pate Basque. I asked the girl what in particular makes it Basque and she said ‘We made it.’ So, clearly, dumb question. As a penance for my stupidity I bought a tin to open and eat with bread along the trail. I’ll find out what their version of pate is like at that point.
Also stopped by the Pilgrim Office to get my first official stamp of this walk (the one from Geneva is just a bonus). And they’re starting something new this year. A Pilgrim registration QR code is required for alburges. I got my registration completed for that and my QR codes saved to my photos for easy access.
Went back to the hostel for opening time. Took a shower, hand-washed my clothes from the day, and got myself organized. In the open dorm I think I’m the only woman with eight or nine guys. This is the Camino way – my tribe brothers from Denmark, France, Germany, Spain, etc.
Writing this from the church stoop. Going to get something for dinner and then have an early night.
More later…
PS …. A bit later… dinner at Cafe Ttipia – Le Petit Cafe – was one of the best salads I’ve had in a long time. Fresh greens, tomatoes, peas, corn, beets, fava beans, pomegranates, and the strips on top aren’t spiraled zucchini – it’s a local cheese.
Prior to being served, I chatted with the host about photos on the wall (he said they were from Ecuador.) I asked if it was possible to have a table in the sun. He asked the owner if he could fold down some of the umbrellas to give me full sun. I sat there on the patio listening to the waterfall behind me. He pointed out the vineyards on the hill and recommended their wine from the menu. I told him I didn’t drink and he sent over a carafe of cold water so I could have all I wanted. Wonderful hospitality. Welcome to Basque Country!
Walking this year for charity:water. Please consider joining me.
https://www.charitywater.org/marilyn-peterson/marilyn-s-camino-for-water-2026
Wow! That is so much to happen in one day. Don’t confuse the cinnamon with the soap – although both will smell nice. What a beautiful setting for dinner. I love the warm heartedness of the tribe.