It is 0500 in the city of Pau, the capital of Bearn and I can't sleep. This is not where I meant to be: however, what is travel without some adventure? It all involved a train with malfunctioning brakes, rerouting and getting on the wrong train. Nonetheless, here I am, and I am told these things happen for a reason.
The flight over was uneventful, except for making the acquaintance of a woman named Denise and we solved the problems of the world in one flight.
The weather has been beautiful so far and the trip through the French countryside was gorgeous. Everything seem to be tinged with a golden haze; though that may have been due in part to the dust on the windows and not just my poetic inclinations.
The aroma of baking crossient is wafting through the air right now and that is a good way to start the day.
After breakfast mm, crossients, a tiny baguette and cafe au lait (sorry, Dan, no peanut butter ) made my way via a funicular railway to the Gare Pau on the advice of a very helpful cabbie from last night. He spoke English, found me a nice place to stay and gave me instructions on how to get to the train in the morning. He was worth every penny of the 5 Euro tip I gave him.
So here I am in Gare Bayonne, and the place is awash in pilgrims, all waiting for the next train to St.Jean. Since France has had more than its share of terror attacks, the military has a definite visible presence in the airport and larger train stations. This is not one of them, just pilgrims, pilgrims and yet more pilgrims.
There have been on and off showers outside, I hope they let up.
Waking up to the smell of croissants baking, and being surrounded by a beautiful countryside sounds lovely. Glad you arrived safe and sound. Dan was here yesterday with fresh fruit and veg. He cleaned out your fridge, haha
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