Actually, the decision has already been made in Rocamodour. The decision that was inevitable. Because last spring we were still busy making plans about our trip to Santiago, it turned out that we were not completely on the same page. Actually, I was the spoilsport because I only had four weeks, so I cycled briskly, at least a hundred kilometers a day, preferably a little more.
Henk and especially Luuk wanted to get rid of that whining and wanted to take the time for it. Five, six or even seven weeks were mentioned. And oh, how does it go with dreams, you don’t let yourself be held back too much by these kinds of practical matters, practice would solve it.
But that was not the case in practice. And the result was inescapable, a decision had to be made. Rocamodour was the last option. Luuk and Henk went off the route there for a few days to visit Hans, a childhood friend of Luuk. I could cycle on. Five days to Saint-Jean-Pied-de-Port, the Roelandpass, a short week through Northern Spain, straight to the airport in Santiago, bike in a box and then home.
Talk about yelling. I could also stay with my friends, get to know Luuk’s schoolmate, rest for a few days and then go to Oloron with the three of us. There will probably still be time to cycle over the Pyrenees together with the two via the slightly more difficult Aragon route, I believe the mountain pass there (I hadn’t been there before) is called the Col du Somport.
Once in Spain we say goodbye. They, the real pilgrims, continue to Santiago. I, who really only wanted to cycle for a while, go back over the Pyrenees and get there on the bicycle bus home on 5 July.
I chose my friends. Santiago will probably come someday, but not this summer. Luke and Henk lead the way.