St. James Way

27th Hiking Day

On the way from Pimbo to Uzan. Just seen the Pyrenees for the first time. I didn't even have in mind that this would happen any time soon. I walked around a corner and voilà. The ridges, jagged outlines, a small hill (at least from afar) that stands alone for itself. Behind this the land of Mordor and Mount Doom ... anyway, very sublime feeling. I have already run 600 km minimum. Rather 650 km. These beautiful outlines, still inconspicuous on the horizon and far away. But a mighty, mighty mountain range that should be respected. You don't just march over it or along it just like that. What a great hike! I love these hours in the morning when the sun is still shining sharply from the left. The chirping of the birds. It is this original state of mind, being in the now again. All expectations are gone and you just live through the day. A rhythm on a small scale. With hardship, of course, but it is also an easy life. I'm looking forward to getting closer to the mountains. And then I just have to see which way I want to take. It also depends a lot on the weather. But for the GR10 I would have maps, altitude, infrastructure and telephone numbers. But I would also have to climb two huge mountains. Apart from that we ate well yesterday, with two Armagnacs while an old French villager with hat and scarf told us the story of his village, Pimbo. That was really good. I love old stories, even if they are in French. That was really pleasant. Also there is a lot of bombardment here. With every gust the acorns hail on our heads. I pass under the oak trees and it hits me or it doesn't hit me. Pure probability theory. However, if that had been shell fire, or shall we say stray pieces of shrapnel, then one would have hit the centre of my skull and the other would have shot through the ulna and radius of my right forearm. Probability and indifference because there is no escape. How did that feel in the trenches? Command from above, compliance and death down there. Soldierhood in war must have something completely cut off from and incompatible with the lives of the rest of the population. Pure probability theory. However, if that had been shell fire, or shall we say stray pieces of shrapnel, then one would have hit the centre of my skull and the other would have shot through the ulna and radius of the right forearm. Probability and indifference as there is no escape. How did that feel in the trenches? Command from above, compliance and death down there. Soldiership in war must be something completely cut off from and incompatible with the lives of the rest of society.