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| SHOWING OFF MY NICE NEW BLUE SHIRT |
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| WILD HORSES COULDN'T DRAG ME AWAY |
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| SPANISH FRIENDS |
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| PLEASANT HILL WALK |
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| STEP THIS WAY |
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| WITH CARLOS AT SOROGAIN |
There was no reason to repeat the section from Hendaye to Biriatou that Chris and I had walked the previous Saturday, so I headed straight to the furthest point we had reached. From there it was steady slog up to Col d'Ibardin with its views towards Biarritz and the sea, and also of the imposing 905m summit of Larrun. The rucksack felt heavy with its full load of food and water.
I am beginning to appreciate the weaknesses of the French IGN maps I am using. They show marked paths that don't exist and I have come across other paths on the ground that simply aren't marked. I had to use my compass frequently to check that I was still walking in the correct direction.
The weather was hot so I stopped at a cafe at Col d'Ibardin to enjoy a cooling cassis sorbet. Shortly after continuing my walk, I realised that I had missed a turning but decided to plod on and find my way by a different route rather than retrace my steps. I had intended to climb Larrun, but was getting tired by now and decided to skirt around it to the south and head down to Col Lizuniaga for the night. I had expected to camp, but bumped into three Spanish walkers who were staying at a hostel at the Col. One of them offered to translate for me if I wanted supper and a room, and I was too weak-willed to refuse.
The Spanish walkers, all retired but fit looking, were spending 11 days walking a route though the Pyrenees that was broadly similar to mine. Over supper I discovered that they had made the same route-finding mistake as me. Unlike me, however, they had chosen to walk back and correct it, but the additional walking had wearied them, so they too decided to skip Larrun and head for the hostel.
After a very comfortable night, I ate breakfast, paid up, then headed generally south. My target for the day was Elizondo and I would be following the GR11 all the way. Route-finding was generally staightforward and I did manage to avoid being misled by a sign that tried to divert walkers down to a Cafe, adding half a km to the distance. However, a path which didn't appear on the map took me to the wrong side of a valley. This time I used the GPS to confirm my location, then retraced my steps to find the correct route.
Just as I arrived in Elizondo, I met Carlos and his father who had been walking the same route. Joining forces, we managed to locate the Auberge Kortarixar (hostel) which had been recommended to me by my three Spanish acquaintances. When we arrived, however, we found them sitting outside looking rather glum. On the door was a note saying that it was closed because of a family emergency. After a few heated phone calls someone drove up and let us all in. Apparently, they had only one front door key to share between us and no room keys. Still, it was cheap, and with a bed, a shower and a supermarket down the road to buy food, I was content.
I had intended to walk to the Monastery at Roncesvalles the following day, but was persuaded by my Spanish friends that my plan was too ambitious and it would take me two days. I would stand a better chance of getting there quickly if I continued following GR11 instead. Trouble was, I didn't have the maps to cover this route.
Nevertheless, I set off early next morning confident that I had learnt enough about the vagiaries of GR signage to find my way without a map. And I did! I didn't quite get to Roncesvalle, but I was only about 5 miles short. After about 10 hours of walking I decided to stop at an Auberge at Sorogain. Then, just as I was enjoying a cold beer, who should stop by but Carlos, without his Dad this time.