Snow melt from the Pyrénées.
Melted pilgrim.
The Way through the Pyrénées is through a gourge. The Way is never far from the highway N330.
An old friend..the yellow arrow marking The Way through Spain.
Yesterday up.
Today down.
What’s at the top?
An artistic metal pilgrim…
My lodging Refuge Aysa…
My clean clothes drying…
Just ask me how I feel!
PS
I’m the solo pilgrim, who saw NO ONE on three-hour mountain pass, through the wilderness. So unlike the Saint Jean Pied de Port crossing of two years ago where you followed a line of pilgrims into Spain.
The unexpected…
Sunrise blue sky after last night’s BLACK sky.
Dry athletic tape at mid-day having totally soaked my shoes the first ten-minutes of a ten-hour day. I actually wrung out the socks and inner soles.
A sod roof blooming.
Such delight to have a coffee at an outdoor café in the last French village, Urdos, along The Way. This village has left me very satisfied with memories.
The last village Urdos offers a smashing conclusion to France. Unplanned and just moments before mid-day closure, I enter a shop that not only sells me an envelope; but, also mails my “used” guide book pages to Virginia. For a grand finale, the shop sells me my very last French baguette.
Much of today’s walk is along the shoulderless highway of N-134 through the Aspe Valley. It serves traffic to-and-from France and Spain. The climb is steady, twisted, and gradually upward. Fortunately for walkers, the cars and trucks can’t go very fast.
Linda Scandore 