Beth and Jerri waiting at the bus stop for the Number 14 (“one-four" as the information agent at Orly added, in case we didn't understand “fourteen") bus to St. Jean-Pied-de-Port.
At Orly, after refreshing bottled water and sharing a chicken baguette, we tried and failed, twice, to check ourselves in electronically for the flight to Biarritz. So we got in the queue and added Beth and Jerri's poles to my duffel--only one item to fetch at the other end.
I can't say much about the hour-long flight, because I slept through it.
Now we are in Biarritz, with quite a few other people in walking/hiking gear with large backpacks. Some of them are huge and I would not want to be any of the people carrying one of them 500 miles. After seeing those, I don't feel nearly so bad about going over the “ten percent of your body weight" rule in my backpack.
I can't say much about the hour-long flight, because I slept through it.
Now we are in Biarritz, with quite a few other people in walking/hiking gear with large backpacks. Some of them are huge and I would not want to be any of the people carrying one of them 500 miles. After seeing those, I don't feel nearly so bad about going over the “ten percent of your body weight" rule in my backpack.
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