…and we are off!
Day one of the Camino doesn’t ease you in—it throws you straight into the sky.
We left the storybook streets of Saint-Jean-Pied-de-Port just as the morning light started to spill over the hills, packs freshly adjusted and nerves buzzing with equal parts excitement and uncertainty. Within minutes, the charming Basque village gave way to a relentless climb. No warm-up. No gentle introduction. Just up.
And up.
And up.
Over the course of roughly 16 miles to Roncesvalles, we gained over 5,000 feet in elevation, crossing the spine of the Pyrenees. It’s the kind of day that makes you question if this was such a good idea after all and then rewards you with views of a lifetime.
Rolling green hills stretched endlessly behind us, dotted with sheep and horses and crisscrossed by narrow roads that quickly disappeared into the distance. As we climbed higher, the gusts picked up dramatically (we guessed 50 mph) and the world opened wide in every direction.
Settling Into the Rhythm of the Camino
The terrain seemed to shift constantly, keeping us both engaged and challenged. Dirt paths stretched through open countryside before giving way to gravel roads, paved stretches, and rolling hills that seemed to appear just as I convinced myself the hardest climb was behind me. There’s a rhythm to walking the Camino—watching your footing, adjusting to the changing landscape, and quietly reminding yourself that every hill eventually ends.
And then there are the markers—those that become strangely reassuring. Yellow arrows painted onto walls, scallop shell symbols, weathered signs pointing the way west. There’s a surprising comfort in simply following the signs and knowing thousands of pilgrims before you have walked this exact same route.
The countryside offered great little surprises especially when the walking felt particularly hard. Dozens of fields stretched alongside the trail, many filled with picture perfect horses and sheep. But the unexpected highlight was spotting new babies—young foals sticking close to their mothers, awkwardly finding their footing in the fields.
The Best Kind of Trail Company
The upside to a hard Day 1 on the Camino? I wasn’t doing it alone. Hiking with Victoria and Sarah from Colorado (who came to join me for the first 8 days of hiking) instantly set the tone for tackling the adventure ahead. They’re the kind of friends who somehow make everything feel lighter—constant good energy, easy laughs, and a very strong “we’ve got this… probably” attitude that make the miles pass so much easier.
The trail itself was as intense as advertised—but by the end of Day 1, we were exhausted, but also feeling weirdly accomplished. And somehow, instead of scaring us off, it just made us more curious about what the next day would bring.
