At André and Gudrun's, there's always a delicious breakfast waiting. They had programmed the coffee machine to start at 6:30 AM, but it didn't turn on. I decided not to touch it, as my technical interference often only makes things worse. Fortunately, I always carry instant coffee with me, including sachets of sugar and milk. I soon had a tasty cup of coffee in front of me.
By 7:17 AM, my bike was packed, and I checked one last time to make sure I hadn't forgotten anything. Just then, the coffee machine started working... but it was too late.
It was a beautiful morning, but I feared it would be a tough bike ride since I was in the foothills of the Pyrenees. It turned out to be not so bad. After a while, I saw a sign pointing to Hôpital Saint-Blaise, a medieval hospital run by monks that cared for sick pilgrims. It's beautifully located in a small valley, away from the main road. I was afraid it would still be closed at 8 AM, but the door was open. Both inside and outside, the building is beautiful, entirely made of local stone. The small windows, which let in pleasantly muted light, are characteristic of the Mozarabic style. For 3 euros, you can watch a sound and light show with an excellent explanation.
Hôpital St Blaise
After this visit, I had to take a small C-road towards St. Palais. In the beginning, it was very steep, but a local resident assured me that it would be relatively up and down afterward, and he was right. This way, I reached St. Palais, located on the Camino Lemovicensis, the route that goes through Limoges. Yesterday, I also crossed the Via Podiensis, which runs from Le Puy-en-Velay to Saint-Jean-Pied-de-Port. I took a few photos in St. Palais, where it was particularly busy. Then I continued towards St. Jean de Luz on the Atlantic coast, before turning off to my final destination: Cambo-les-Bains.
St Palais
Further along the route, I met two pilgrims, Claire and Laurent (I estimate they are in their forties), with sturdy backpacks and heavy hiking boots. They were walking a section of the Camino for the first time and were thoroughly enjoying it, despite the effort. I asked if I could photograph them, which was no problem. Two years ago, I made the mistake of not asking a cake baker at a market for permission to take a photo. He was baking a cake on a spit by continuously pouring liquid batter over it, a local specialty. I received a piece of cake and a few curse words. After a few minutes, Claire, Laurent, and I wished each other well and went our separate ways.
Everywhere I saw announcements of three-day local festivals that take place in July or August. Every village that respects itself organizes such a festival to attract as many people as possible. In addition, there are also many other festivities, as the French love festivals with local products, plenty of beer or wine, pétanque tournaments, and loud music.
Typical gravestone. Claire and Laurent
As I continued cycling, I discovered that I had entered the Basque region. I immediately noticed several things: many houses had wooden balconies, usually painted in dark red or dark green, and the nameplates were bilingual: French and Basque. In every large village, there was a wall for the favorite ball game, pelote Basque, and often a sports hall for major competitions nearby. In the cemeteries, I saw typical round gravestones. All around the landscape, there were sheep or goat farms, as there is a lot of delicious cheese made here.
Basque houses and église trinitaire
I stopped at two beautiful churches. The first had a facade wall with three points, which in French is called an église trinitaire (a Trinity church). The second church had clearly first been a fortified tower, complete with everything. Churches or their towers were often used by the population as a refuge during attacks by looting bands, especially during the religious wars.
A bit further, I stopped for lunch at an "Aire de plaisir" on a ridge, where a farmer had set up a small restaurant. He had also placed benches for picnickers and took groups up the hill by tractor for paragliding. You could also rent a mountain bike or scooter. Fabien, the young man from the mountain bike rental, was happy to pump up my tires. At the farmer's, I bought a super delicious and large sandwich with plenty of cheese and ham.
Fortified church. Fabien and the Basque landscape
Through a truly Basque landscape, with high hills without many trees and many red-painted houses, I reached my final destination: Cambo-les-Bains. The sky was beautifully blue, not a cloud in sight. I stayed with Emmanuel and Nicole, the son and daughter-in-law of a Parisian friend, Francine Vaniscotte. Cambo-les-Bains itself doesn't have much to offer, but it's known for its thermal baths, which are located outside the town. I was so tired that I fell asleep in the middle of the afternoon for an hour and a half. When I woke up, I just had enough time for a shower before dinner. They have two daughters, Eleija and Maleija (Basque names, as their mother is Basque). It was a pleasant evening where we talked about all sorts of things, including Maleija's studies in Lille, far from home, as young people in France are assigned a university and cannot choose for themselves. We agreed that she would occasionally come to Leuven, where we would be happy to host her. I was also treated to a typical Basque squid dish. At 9:30 PM, I went to bed and fell asleep immediately. Tomorrow I have less cycling to do, just to San Sebastian on the coast.
Cambo-les-Bains
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