St. Jean was lonely and ordering food was a disaster I waited too long to eat and that combined with jet lag and a lack of knowing any French was dangerous and embarassing. In the end I had a good cry gathered myself back up and ordered from the sweet girl in the deli near my hotel. The next day I had time to kill before starting my climb to Orisson. I strolled around the main town center, took pictures, and ate the most amazing croissant of my life light and buttery to perfection! I found a menu in English and ordered a Panini for the road and the lady behind the counter was an English teacher. We chatted for a while and I learned a few more French words after being sternly told I should try to speak French. I was trying, but I didn´t even know that she was telling me the price. Oh well. I will not be visiting St. Jean again. I had an hour to spare before starting so I went into a pizza shop and there I met my first Camino angel. A white haired German man who was driving his RV through the French "passes." He had the most playful blue eyes and an easy demeanor. His English was excellent, and over pizza we laughed and he assured me my journey would have it´s hardships. But I would have the time of my life, and tell my tales of the Camino to my kids and grand kids. After a couple of pictures and a big hug I walked through the cobble stoned streets of St. Jean passed under the stone archway and began my ascent of the Pyrenees.
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