A Rookie Mistake on the GR653 in Barran

Calling it a rookie mistake would be an insult to rookies everywhere.

In my defense, meager as it is, I hadn’t made things easy on myself. Here is the hourly log of the events leading to the “mistake.”

Thursday, 4pm – After the last meeting of the year ran long, I finally bolted downhill to reach the metro station
Thursday, 6pm – Surprise! Construction on the metro line turned a one-hour trip into a two-hour one. Mercifully, the security line was short enough to speed me through
Thursday, 7pm – Board flight to London
Friday, 1am – Fall asleep for an hour of fitful rest
Friday, noon – Arrive London Heathrow
Friday, 1pm – Clear immigration, wander aimlessly
Friday, 3pm – Starting to fall asleep, get food
Friday, 5pm – Board flight to Paris CDG
Friday, 7pm – Arrive CDG, metro to city
Friday, 8pm – Visit Notre Dame, eat falafel, wander around French Quarter
Friday, 9pm – Stroll along Rue Saint Jacques, past the pantheon
Friday, 10pm – Board bus to Orly Airport
Saturday, midnight – Find two-foot-wide gap between windows and back of a kiosk, lay out sleep sheet, try to sleep
Saturday, 2:45am – Too awake to sleep, too tired to accomplish anything, start pacing back and forth through Orly’s terminals
Saturday, 4am – Still nothing open in Orly
Saturday, 5:30am – Finally get coffee
Saturday, 7am – Board flight to Toulouse
Saturday, 9am – Arrive downtown Toulouse, visit cathedral, hit two bakeries
Saturday, 10:30am – Board train to Auch
Saturday, 11:54am – Disembark train, sprint across the city
Saturday, 12:05pm – Arrive at tourism office, which closed at noon, but the wonderful woman opened the door anyway and provided me with a pilgrim passport
Saturday, 12:10pm – Visited the choir in the Auch cathedral for five minutes before the host decided to leave early and thus kicked me out
Saturday, 12:30pm – Start walking
Saturday, 3:30pm – Arrived Barran, asked the construction dude to call the gite host to come open it for me
Saturday, 4pm – Construction dude sees I’m still waiting, calls again, seems frustrated
Saturday, 4:10pm – The pilgrims who had been sleeping inside come down to let me in
Saturday, 6pm – With shower, laundry, and dinner finished, I lie down on a military cot in the dark corner of the hallway to nap until the host arrives to stamp credentials
Saturday, 7pm – Wake up, pay, get stamp, return to the cot

The point is, I was tired, and I was pleased as could be to be horizontal, in a dark room, without the grinding of an escalator reverberating constantly next to me. I zonked out.

I awoke refreshed. I slept well. Maybe too well. I looked at the time and it was nearly 9:30! The light even filtered into the dark recesses of my hallway corner. The heat yesterday had hit me hard, and with highs around 90 in the forecast once again, and a 42-km walk ahead, I was shaken–I was astonished at myself, really. I can’t remember having this kind of alarm failure, never mind a day when I slept in so late. I shoved everything into my pack as fast as possible and sprinted out the door, dropping the keys in the mailbox, and powering through my breakfast–half a sandwich left over from last night–along the way.

Marching out of Barran, something felt weird. I couldn’t see the sun. It was plenty bright, and there were some hills around me, but still–it seemed like the sun should be visible. Could my clock be wrong? Could it be earlier than I believed it to be? Maybe it jumped time zones? That felt possible… the conditions were more reminiscent of 6:30am, after all. Then I looked left and saw three little kids playing. Then I looked right and saw a father and little kid flop into a kiddy pool together. Odd for 6:30am.

I marched on, leaving Barran behind and veering off into fields. I climbed a hill. And still… despite that added elevation, the sun remained hidden. And actually… the more I thought about it… it seemed to be getting darker.

And finally, embarrassingly late into the walk, I looked more closely at my phone. Sure, it was 9:30… well, 10, now. But it was still Friday. It was 10pm, darkness was coming, and I had already abandoned the keys of the accommodation I had just paid for.

Mercifully, this was a dumb mistake I could weather easily enough, given that I’m packing my bivy and sleeping pad on this trip. I pushed on a bit further, laughing at myself all the while, and before too long discovered a perfect perch, with sweeping views of the valley. The night was mild, the mosquitoes were held at bay by the netting, and I marveled at the ridiculous feat I had managed to pull off. I slept great.

A memorable start to the summer’s pilgrimage.