As I’m currently both alive and in Roncesvalles, that means I’m technically one up on Emilio Estevez, almost certainly for the first time in our lives.

By that, I mean that Daniel Avery, the fictional character he plays in “The Way“, attempts to do what I have just done – cross the Pyrenees from St-Jean-Pied-de-Port to Roncesvalles on the first day of his Camino.

But it all ends in a rather terminal failure.

It’s not a plot spoiler to have mentioned that, as “The Way” pays tribute to his intentions in such a meaningful way that it made me want to follow one day.

There are plenty of forlorn tributes to fallen peregrinos along the path to emphasise that Daniel’s fate is not just a Hollywood plot device.

This first stage rises relentlessly from 170m above sea level all the way up to the Col de Lepoeder at 1450m and then back down to 950m again in one strenuous stretch.

It’s no surprise that some have faltered on their path.

I’m therefore quite thankful to have made it in good time to the refuge of an enormous medieval monastery. And in good time for dinner too – I just hope it’s not lentil soup again…

I think I need to be particularly thankful to the enormous rolling bank of grey and cooling clouds that have hooded the Pyrenees for most of the day.

If they had followed me here from England, I’m glad they did.

Perfect walking conditions!

Better than that, the mist often obscured the road ahead, reducing my apprehension levels accordingly. If I’d seen how much higher I still needed to climb, it would probably not have helped.

The silence was wonderful, with just the occasional cowbell clinking away in the distance to break the sound of my breathing and the crunch of my footsteps.

This first day has been extraordinary, for many reasons.

I might have been one of the first to leave St-Jean this morning. The hospitaleros at Beilari had made me an enormous breakfast baguette to help power me through the morning.

Still, the steep country lanes soon saw plenty of other peregrinos making their way past me up into the foothills of the Pyrenees, and the first rest stop at Orisson.

There were many breathless conversations, with more than a few of my fellow pilgrims looking as if they’d bitten off more than they could chew. A couple of young German girls called Maja and Franzi seemed to be suffering from blisters already.

We all gave each other as much support as we could. But after Orisson, there was still a 17km up-and-down stretch to complete, with no other refuges until the next albergue at Roncesvalles.

Now you had only two choices – carry on and conquer the Pyrenees, or turn back.

Historically, there was a choice of emulating either Bonaparte or Charlemagne for the path into Spain.

As I was labouring my way up the mountains on the so-called “Napoleon Way“, I couldn’t help but think poorly of the egotistical little git.

Undercutting the values of the French Revolution in pursuit of personal glory in a self-aggrandising series of campaigns that would lay waste to much of Europe was terrible enough.

But more to the point, I now have a better understanding of what it takes for an army to march their way over the Pyrenees.

And of what sort of person you might be if you expected them to be able to fight some sort of battle after they had done that.

Let me tell you, staying at home and having a nice cup of coffee would have been a far superior option, Monsieur Bonaparte…

Or just going for a nice walk instead.

What about that?

Accommodation Report:

Beilari at St-Jean-Pied-de-Port

Slept on a single bed with two latecomers sharing a bunk bed.

Result.

Snorers – 2 out of 3, but not me, apparently!

No bedbugs, no mosquitoes.

Result.

Health Report:

Left Foot has swiftly shrugged off the effects of its defeat in Biarritz.

Right Foot continues to smirk at Left Foot about that, but there’s time for that all to change.

No blisters, no hot spots, no worries at all.

The Slovenian girl in the bunk above me tonight has offered some Eastern European foot cream – how sweet.

Left Shoulder complained a little on the downhill stretches this afternoon, which is odd as Right Shoulder usually feels like a cement mixer when it’s rotated.

Trips, Slips and Falls: 0

Applications of Factor 50, even though it wasn’t sunny: 4

Filling of Water Bottles: 4

Number of times “Buen Camino” was said: 250, at least.

Stupid Juvenile Observation: This design fail. Cows and sheep could easily escape!

All in all, a good start.