The air was crisp and fresh, as all early summer mornings should be, as I tied my shoes, stood up, slung my backpack over my shoulders, and stepped out the front door.

I'm standing on the Rue de la Citadelle in St-Jean-Pied-de-Port in shoes that aren't broken in, and a hat from Lollapalooza. It’s a cold brisk morning on June 2nd, 2018 and I’m about to start the Camino de Santiago.

As I stood there in the early morning light on the street I tried to take stock of what I had come here to do, and what was about to happen. I stared down the road, watching other pilgrims march up the stone-paved road and off into the distance, before finally muttering to myself "alright, let's go."

To be honest, I really didn't know which way to go, so I blindly followed three pilgrims who were walking side-by-side further ahead of me. The sun was shining, and the clouds were few and far between, as we left the village behind and entered the countryside.

Shortly after I cleared the final threshold of buildings that separated the man-made world from natural world, the three ladies whom I had been following suddenly stopped. As I was walking past them, now confident in the way to go, and I overheard one of them ask out loud "Is this the right way?" I offered the best advice that I could give: "Yeah, I think so."

And that's all it took. I came to France alone but this pilgrimage, which started barely 30 minutes ago, was no longer a solo trip, and I had made new friends. They were: Amy (USA), Martha (UK), and Tracey (AUS).

We left the stone-paved village roads behind, gradually rising above the clouds with each step. Every time I turned around to stare in awe at the view in front of my eyes it seemed like I was becoming further separated from the world.

Gradually our group splintered while we were walking and talking.

After a while the topic of conversation turned to "Why are you walking across Spain?". I suddenly realized that I didn't know and my mind started to cloud with answers as I tried to formulate something. Hopefully I'll find an answer to that question as this adventure continues.

Around mid-morning we arrived at Orisson. We were in desperate need of a break since none of us were prepared for how much constant uphill walking was involved. After resting and refueling on water we returned to the trail. The clouds had followed us, and we were treated to cool temperatures and fog-filled paths.

Shortly thereafter the fog left us and we were back to staring at the curving paved road as we continued up the mountainside. Each time I saw a curve ahead of us, and the road disappeared behind it, I hoped that this must be the top.

The marked way left the paved road behind shortly before reaching the border of Spain, near the top.

Here the fog returned to us and clung to the trees, covering the path in the far distance. It would still be another hour of following the road up and around the mountain forest before we would come to a marker signifying that the way down had begun. After more than five hours of ascending, we were finally on the descent and in Spain.

It took all of my concentration to stay vertical, and to keep my feet from getting stuck in the mud. The trees were dense here, and the air heavy. We nearly bushwhacked our way through the forest, loosing the trail and then finding it a few moments later each time.

Shortly before exiting the woods, and entering Roncesvalles, I managed to slip and fall on my ass.

I have never been happier to see a destination. It meant clean clothes, hot showers, and companionship with the people that you struggled all day with. The air was filled only with the sounds of birds chirping, pilgrims arriving and cleaning off their shoes, and the energy of conversation filling the dormitory halls.

With our belly's full from a three course meal we said our goodbyes and retreated back to the monastery dorms. We found the others sitting at the entrance to our floor and spent the next hour talking, laughing, and getting to know each other.

Tomorrow meant more downhill hiking as we would begin descending the Pyrenees and make our way for Zubiri. Hopefully the rains will stay away and keep the path dry for us.