Over the Pyrenees! Weather gods smiled again as, once more, the first drops of rain fell right after I checked into the albergue.

It was a magnificent day in every way: sweeping views; great weather (cool but not too cold); enough snow to be interesting but not block the path; even the occasional circling vulture sent, I’m sure, to see if any pilgrim has strayed from the path.

The path crossed into Spain today and I somewhat sadly bid an au revoir to France: my (very) limited French is much better than my (extremely) limited Spanish. In fact, I was complemented twice on my great French accent yesterday. All I ever seem to get from the Spanish is a blank stare.

The town of Roncesvalles actually has two other names in addition to this Spanish one — Orreaga (Basque) and Roncevaux (French) — and all signs seem to list all three. I was quite confused before I figured this out.

It’s not actually even a town (the resident population is 30) more like a series of adjoining medevial buildings, administered by the local church.  

Since the 12th century it has received “all pilgrims…sick and well, Catholics, Jews, pagans, heretics and vagabonds”.  I shall let you guess into which category I fall.