I am typing on a Spanish keyboard. I cannot get WordPress and my iphone to see eye to eye, AND finding wifi is nearly impossible. I´m on a computer in an albergue in Mañeru…not Manure, Rose! Everyone else is sleeping, and frankly, I wish I were too.

Okay, I´m calling this Day 1: Planes, Trains, and Automobiles…but not in that order. (What can I say? One beer and a couple of pilgrim glasses of wine…)

I made it out of YYZ with only one minor trip of the alarm. My sterling bangles set off the alarms. Score one for bling!

The plane ride to Paris was frought with turbulence. I was able to catch up on three movies I´d missed: Iron Man 3, Fast and Furious #?, and The (most recent) Hangover. That one I couldn´t finish because I was enjoying the turbulence too much.

Once in Paris, I was patted down and felt up until I´m sure the French woman found my long-lost virginity. (Sorry Zoe. I couldn´t resist.) The plane to Toulouse was 35 minutes late. I needed a safety net of 90 minutes to get from the airport to the train station, buy a ticket, and find the right train on the platform. No easy feat in France. Again, luck was on my side. With only 85 minutes, grade 12 French, and a smile, I made my way to the train station, bought a ticket, and got on the correct train to Bayonne… with 15 minutes to spare! And I made a Dutch friend on the way!

From Bayonne, I experienced the French WC. Holy crap. I don´t mind when people watch me wait for a bus, or taxi, or one of my kids. However, standing on a busy corner waiting for the metal door to swish open after it SELF CLEANED… (yup…reminds me of that story There Will Fall Soft Rains. Can´t use punctuation around the title, because I can´t find it on this damn Spanish keyboard. Sorry Maria.)…so that I could pee was embarrassing. The police rolled up to a red light and smiled at me. Jesus! Another guy jumped into the men´s self cleaning pissoire, and got bleached. hahaha. Must have been a stupid tourist too.

From Bayonne, I had to catch a bus to St. Jean Pied de Port. I guess between me getting on a train in Toulouse and arriving in Bayonne, the train workers went on strike. I was lucky to catch a second bus to St. Jean Pied de Port, but arrived soooo late. I was actually afraid for the first time when faced with the steepness of the stone streets of St. Jean. I huffed my way to the Pilgrim Office to get my Pilgrim Passport signed, and nearly passed out from the climb. Breathe easy. I´m clearly typing this after my sixth day of walking. I survived.

All of the auberges were mostly filled, but the kind people at the office stamped my passport on tope of the St. Catherine´s Cathedral imprint, and sent me on my way to a fine, old dungeony auberge. I slept in a room with a double bed and a bunk bed. Min, the Korean cyclist, slept above me. Kim and Gary from ¿North Carolina? slept in the double bed. The only double bed I´ve seen so far.

We were on time for the pilgrims´ meal. So far after the fact, I won´t burden you with the stale details, but it was very good. Several of us shared several pitchers of wine, which helped make the farting and snoring during the night bearable. Apparently, I had the best room. Only four people AND next to the bathroom AND two doors removed from the shower. I wondered in the morning how all those people who took their trumpets and tubas into the bathroom were going to carry them over the Pyrenees. 😉

Upon leaving our auberge, the host wished us Ultreia. Onwards. I took it as a good omen. I´d have hated getting the name or meaning of my blog wrong. :\

I probably should go to bed. I´m hanging here with two Spaniards, one of whom got to see Zoe when I facetimed her earlier as she slept.

If I can 1) find WiFi and a computer tomorrow, 2) make it over the next freakin´big hill, and 3) stay awake and sober enough to type on another Spanish keyboard, I´ll post days 2 through 7.

But you know…Spanish wine is sooooo good.

From Mañeru, Spain…Ultreia!

…and know that all mistakes and spelling errors can be blamed on this keyboard. But how cool are these symbols: ¿€çºª?