Made it! Par-vay-vou eh?

Arriving in southern France was very exciting. Standing outside of the Biarritz airport, there were 4 other people with backpacks. So we all started talking. There was a girl who spent 30 years living in Barcelona and now lived in London, who could speak perfect English, French, and Spanish. A guy from Germany named Robert, and a very nice couple in their mid-50's from Ireland. Together we made a good team, all adding in a way to the greater good. The girl who could speak French could ask the locals questions, I seemed to be the one who did the most research and was the only one who knew that the train was out of commission but you still had to catch the bus at the train station - not the bus station where the bus driver wanted to take us, etc.

The five of us caught the train (bus) with only one minute to go - and had a nice ride into St Jean Pied de Port (SJPP) but had to keep detouring into small towns where the train would normally make stops.
We got into SJPP about 8 pm, it was then a mad scramble to find the Compostelle or whatever you call it. We eventually found it, people got processed, I got my passport stamped - the people there treated me very nice when they found out that I was a Canadian. They gave me a map showing me the directions and also pointed out where the false turns were and not to make those mistakes. They said that the weather would be very nice and they were telling everyone to take the Napoleon Route, which is the route directly over the top of the mountain, as opposed to the route along the highway around the mountain.

People dispersed to find their different accommodations and we were supposed to meet again for supper but at no set location. I eventually found where my Hostel was - it was on the same road as the Compostelle was on, but down by the river. It is operated by a guy named Eric. Eric's place is not very well advertised, with just a small Camino sign on the door. At this same time, the couple from Ireland met up with me again. They just grabbed the first hostel they seen. I told them to come into Eric's with me so that they could see what Eric's hostel was like. We went in but the place was dark and no one was around. I told the Irish couple to head out for supper and I would join them. I never seen them again. I waited around. I could hear noises and perhaps a TV coming from upstairs. So I walked up the stairs and at the doorway where the noise was coming from, I shouted, Hello, Hello.

A man came out and I asked him if he was Eric and he said he was. I introduced myself and he seemed pleased to meet me. He gave me a tour of the place, where the bedrooms were He said mine would be the one further down the hall, where there were 5 sets of single bunk beds. There was already a backpack from a guy named Bobby from Holland. Eric then showed me where the two bathrooms were, the shower, and the kitchen. Eric said that the French rugby team was playing at 8:30 pm in a game in which if they won, France would be in the remaining group of 6 in a big European tournament (maybe like the World Cup type of thing). Because of that, he said that he could make up breakfast but it would not be before 9 am, as he would be up late celebrating the game and hopefully the win. I paid Eric the 15 Euros, and then headed out to find something to eat. I wound up at a pizza place and ordered a pizza which had a crust not much thicker than paper, and a coating of cheese that must of been applied by a paintbrush (it was so thin).

Went back to the hostel and Bobby was awake but already in bed. Bobby and I talked for a bit - we were going to leave together at 7:45, buy some lunch from the bakery just down the street, and have that for lunch since we would have to make it all the way to Roncevaux. We did not want to wait around for Eric to make breakfast.

Note the picture of the beds. They are metal frames painted in a high gloss paint. This is because the bed bugs cannot grip the smooth metal and travel from one bed to another.