Le réveil est pénible, le roi continue always his concert while I had lunch with the other pilgrims. We find it funny, it is not possible this guy!
Today, the path is made mostly of hills. I start my day by walking a climb that lasted nearly two hours. For the first time, there is no tree and the wind blows with great force, making walking more difficult. I look behind me, I take time to admire the Pyrenees. It took me three days to walk through this mountain range that extends over 80 km wide. By car, it would have taken me an hour to cover the same distance I realize how, by dint of using machines, we lose the ability to take the time to live. Walking as a means of transportation, we will take to realize the effects of machines on our way of life. The rhythm of my life is transformed and I have no car, no cell, no player and there's only me, the scenery and the trail.
From this hill, I can see the last 50 kilometers I traveled, it always leaves me a funny feeling.
There are wind turbines along the way, their massive propellers provide shade on my feet. They hit the air playing mournful music that gives me the feeling of entering a surreal world.
At the top, there are eleven pilgrims cast iron sculptures, they are pilgrims who walk in groups. The wind is at its greatest intensity, it is difficult to remain in place. I'm starting to get cold, I must go. I salute for the last time the Pyrenees and I begin the descent down the other side.
I go and I go down like that for hours. I go through a long field and I come to a hexagonal chapel, a thousand years old, built by the Knights Templar of the Orde. I sat inside for ten minutes without speaking, not even me.
The order of the Templars was a group of knights who protected pilgrims against the brigands. There are also many legends about them: for example, some say it's a secret society that would have held the famous cup used by Christ at the Last Supper. They had many very special rites which the Catholic Church did not like. A Pope decided to send his army to exterminate a certain Friday 13 in 1453.
Hostel Puerta La Reina is super comfortable: there is a fireplace, nice kitchen, hot water and even two internet machines that work like a dryer, to buy time, we must put euro coins, euro for ten minutes.
So I write a long letter a few pages when a "bog" of the computer screen freezes. Since I do not want everyone to read my letter, I try to turn off the computer, but I can not. I decided to unplug it. Unfortunately, I do not disconnect the plug from the computer, but the extension on which the two computers are connected part. Despite all my efforts, I have not been able to restart. Of remorse, I decide to go to the innkeeper and said that both computers failed at the same time and that is my fault. Since I do not speak English, she does not understand. She said she knows absolutely nothing about computers and it can not reimburse me. I replied: "Yes, but I do not want to be reimbursed, I just want to tell you that ... "Nothing to do, she left.
I met many pilgrims since the beginning of the pilgrimage. We follow in doing the same steps. There are Janine and John, the Pyrenees. A French couple follower of brisk walking is highly competitive. He attributes great importance to the physical side of the march.
It is strange, but a common kind of competition develops among the pilgrims performing. those who like to walk fast reaching the top. Sometimes it's very annoying, because it cuts off communication. Over time, I have come to prefer the company of pilgrims who did not care market soon to arrive early.
John the Pyrenean me talks about her son who remained in Montreal, Quebec that is great and he would like to one day visit it. So Eric the good guy, gives him her address. I had not finished pronouncing the word address that he was already rendered with his family at home in Quebec! Later, with a total indifference he spoke to me, but he did not hesitate to tell me about his upcoming trip to Quebec ... I felt manipulated! Eric Eric the good or the good-natured?
ago that Tom is a young Australian who has no job. He's wearing a backpack that date World War II and who must weigh eight pounds heavier than mine. He is tall and strong. He began his journey to Roncesvalles. He walks fast and he is still one of the first to arrive at the lodge. He would later pay dearly for his lack of training because he had tendinitis that has slowed considerably, after Los Arcos, I went to see him again.
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