we arrived into bayonne after 4 hours on the tgv from gare montparnasse, waited on the platform for the local train to take us the final stretch to st jean pied de port. the scenery was breathtaking as the train climbed along into the pyrenees. vero chatted to a french couple who were to walk to santiago. conversation, excitement and scenery resulted in nobody noticing the train had pulled into, and past the terminus and into the garage! a hectic chase back along the tracks in an attempt to meet our bicycle rental company representative...but, nobody there! no bicycles! vero managed to contact her on her mobile and convinced her to come and collect us. she, along with her baby son, gave us a lift to the portal to the medieval town. we exchanged bicycles for rental and deposit cheques and headed off into the town to find the guest house where we had agreed we could pitch our tent. we found the address and discovered from the owner there was no garden adjoining the house and all their rooms were full! unswayed, we unrolled the sleeping bags and threw them on the floor of their utility room. alarm clock set to 05.45!

we awoke to a lovely day. brought the bicycles outside connected the cycle computer and headed on our way. we met two professional looking cyclists who told us to make our way to roncevalles along the n135. they had attempted napoleon's route over the pyrenees and turned back after 4 km! anxiously, we headed off. after a short time we crossed the border post into spain. the guardia civil were out in force, this the day after eta had assasinated the former governor of the region. we stopped in arneguy and took out some pesetas on my hole-in-the-wall card. long live the euro! then off again... around the corner and upwards. 3,5 hours of zig-zag 7% slope up the 1,000m to the summet and chapel at alto de ibaneta. difficult hours man and machine struggling against gravity. it was no surprise to hear miguel indurain grew nearby and praciced on these slopes!

at the chapel, we had a picnic and recovered a while before freewheeling into roncevalles and the monastery to collect our credencial, the passport for the camino. we chatted to the francophone monk, had a look around replenished water bottles and headed further downhill, through some small picturesque towns towards the camp-site at urrobi, safe in the knowledge that the most difficult day of cycling was over and we were on our way....:-)