As expected, the wake-up call is total shit. Even if I went to bed at and got a solid 8 hours of sleep…I want more. Paul also gets up at the ass crack of dawn.
Presumably to beat the heat. I gather my shoes and bag and Noah meets me outside ten minutes later. It had several coins in there yesterday before I added to it. But on the road, in the early cool morning, with the creamsicle sky, I soften. Sunrise is my favorite time on any long-walk.
We walk on the road surrounded by cornfields. On my left, in the distance, I get my first glimpse of the blue and white Pyrenees, which really excites me. I had dreamed for years of walking a route in France specifically towards the Pyrenees.
I wanted to know what it felt like to see them approach in the distance and then to cross over them into Spain, my second homeland. Soon, soon we would be there! He stops to look at a signpost and then follows it to the right. But still. And at the same time you have to feel sorry for them in a way. I try to feel some compassion for the dude, because who knows what his circumstances are to make him steal his way along the Via Tolosana.
But it still annoys me. How many times does that happen before the people running these public gites for pilgrims stop trusting everyone? I would hate to see that disappear. We continue on, the clouds rearing up for their afternoon downpour.
