DAY ONE – March 16th – An army marches on its stomach
Barry, Fraser, P and Pat enjoying the first supper.
Before checking into Gite Ultreïa we popped into the local tourist/camino office. The staff were mostly volunteers and could not be more helpful. I decided to get a new pilgrim passport – or ‘Credencial’. Barry decided that his original Credencial would be more authentic. As a result I tried to get a stamp wherever I could and Barry reserved his passport for only the 'more important' stops.
Armed with our camino paraphernalia we checked into Gite Ultreïa – our hostel – situated conveniently on the main street – Rue de la Citadelle where the staff recommended the restaurant across the street. Afraid of nepotism we wandered the cobbled streets of St Jean to find that indeed the restaurant closest to us was probably the best.
We found a trestle table in the Garden which had the Citadelle as its back wall. The odd tourist walked along the walls and inspected our supper.
I had a decision to make – would I stay ‘dry’ for the 11 days? I decided I would and promptly regretted my decision when the waiter brought out a bottle of the local cider followed by a bottle of the local wine which Barry declared as ‘acceptable’. We met a couple dining in the garden who were finishing their camino in St Jean having walked from Switzerland. As we were to discover, there are many ways to cover the camino.
Barry, Fraser, P and Pat enjoying the first supper.
Before checking into Gite Ultreïa we popped into the local tourist/camino office. The staff were mostly volunteers and could not be more helpful. I decided to get a new pilgrim passport – or ‘Credencial’. Barry decided that his original Credencial would be more authentic. As a result I tried to get a stamp wherever I could and Barry reserved his passport for only the 'more important' stops.
Armed with our camino paraphernalia we checked into Gite Ultreïa – our hostel – situated conveniently on the main street – Rue de la Citadelle where the staff recommended the restaurant across the street. Afraid of nepotism we wandered the cobbled streets of St Jean to find that indeed the restaurant closest to us was probably the best.
We found a trestle table in the Garden which had the Citadelle as its back wall. The odd tourist walked along the walls and inspected our supper.
I had a decision to make – would I stay ‘dry’ for the 11 days? I decided I would and promptly regretted my decision when the waiter brought out a bottle of the local cider followed by a bottle of the local wine which Barry declared as ‘acceptable’. We met a couple dining in the garden who were finishing their camino in St Jean having walked from Switzerland. As we were to discover, there are many ways to cover the camino.
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