Duck Season

A rare sighting last night of the Black Duck.

In pensive mood.

The team is assembling, with Franck, Gigi and the Duck in Bayonne/Biarritz. Today they will be joined by JC before moving up to Saint Jean Pied de Port.

Here, its just gone 4am. I’ll be leaving here at 6, arriving in Bilbao in time for lunch. Then Stu will land and we will make our way to St Jean in time for supper.

The weather forecast looks set fair, which is probably an indication of impending storms.

Right – time for a shower.

Look out Camino. Here we come.

the-duck

FIVE! The team is growing.

A fifth man has joined the team. (It is alleged)

As is the way in communication between forwards, the message is somewhat confused, however, we believe that our numbers are now swelled by the addition of a back.

Take a bow, Germain Gouranton.

Being A. A back, and B, not a lunatic, Gigi plans on establishing a basecamp in St Jean Pied de Port, from where he will raise a glass in salute, wish us “Bonne chance” before sensibly retiring home to his warm bed.

Naturally, as a French back, he will mysteriously re-appear at the end of the pilgrimage, in a clean shirt, not a hair out of place and take centre-stage in the photos, before graciously conceding that

“You know, the forwards, they played well, mostly they kept out of my way. It’s normal in France.”

The Black Duck (Laurent) has been given the all clear by the Cardiologist to walk with us – we are unclear as to the doctor’s opinion on the filterless Camels.

So – turning into quite the mini-reunion.

Speaking personally, I know that the thought of 25 km uphill the next morning will serve as an effective brake on my drinking – but I’m certain Terry would approve of a fortifying glass of wine before the off.

Even in the Himalayas, El Tel was not averse to a swift half…

wheres-the-party

A week on Saturday, we will gather in SJPDP and fight for the right to the bunk bed rather than half the double. Sunday morning, packs on and walk.

“Which way?”

“Up.”

How bad could it be?