Days 125 to 150: The Arrival

Already more than six months have gone by since my arrival in Hendaye, at the end of those 3,000 kilometres walked on the HexaTrek. A few weeks ago, I realised I had never taken the time to put the last month of this unforgettable adventure down on paper.

From the very beginning of my hike, I spent close to an hour each evening writing my adventure stories. But during the final stretch, I felt the need to rest more and to fully live the present moment. Even though I stopped posting on my blog, my long crossing did continue all the way to the ocean, which I reached on October 27, after 150 days of hiking.

A short recap of that last month on the trail.

End of Stage 5

The end of Stage 5 was filled with grand landscapes, first experiences of summiting peaks above 3,000 metres, and a constant sense of wonder while following the Haute Route des Pyrénées. This variant, which I recommend to anyone crossing France, was my biggest favourite of the entire HexaTrek.

When I reached the end of Stage 5, I quickly realised there was only one stage left of this HexaTrek. Just one final line, well, not so straight, of 400 kilometres. At the very beginning of the trek, that distance seemed enormous to me. By the end, I felt like the finish line was rushing toward me.

Stage 6

Even though this stage ended at the ocean, there were still plenty of climbs to tackle. The highest mountains are found in this segment. I took as many variants as possible, trying to collect as many memories of this adventure as I could. I knew the last hundred kilometres ran through very low altitude trails, so I wanted to enjoy the mountains as much as possible before dropping down toward the Basque Country.

Because of lingering unstable weather from a hurricane, we had to change our itinerary at one point and cut about a hundred kilometres off the official trail. If I look on the bright side of that misadventure, I now have one more reason to come back to France in the coming years to finish that section.

After a month of walking with Alex, we said goodbye, since he had to return to England. I then continued the remaining 200 kilometres with my friends Guillaume and Hugo, whom I had met back in Stage 1. What a coincidence to meet again three months later for the final stretch.

After dealing with rough temperatures in the previous weeks, it was a real pleasure to return to gentler weather in the Basque Country.

Then, step by step, soon there was only one week of hiking left.

What makes a multi month thru hike different from a day hike or a short trek is the immersion in the present, the immersion in the now. Why think about yesterday or tomorrow when they will be made of the same routine unfolding right there, in front of your eyes? Yesterday you walked, today you walk, tomorrow you will walk. It is as simple as that. Five months is a long time. Your mind does not immediately project itself into the future where the finish line is waiting. Except maybe during the last week. The last week is learning to live with the idea that what you started really does have an end, learning to accept that soon you will have to return to civilisation, accepting that you might not be as amazed anymore by the sight of a water source, a hot shower, a chocolate bar, or a good peach iced tea.

That last week was like the beginning of grieving the trail, mixed with the excitement of the arrival getting close.

I spent my last evening on the trail with Hugo and Guillaume, sheltered in a tiny refuge while heavy rain pounded outside. In the morning, we were ready for that final day. We all left at different times, wanting one last introspective moment before the finish. I left first, with the goal of swallowing the final 30 kilometres before sunset. We had adjusted our last days of walking so that the final day would be sunny. What could be better than an idyllic arrival on the beach in Hendaye, with the sun going down?

That final day was incredibly intense emotionally. When I reached the top of the last hill and saw the ocean, about ten kilometres from the finish, I started crying, from joy, pride, nostalgia. Since I had been injured on the second day of my adventure, I had never allowed myself too much hope about completing the trail. And yet I was there, at the finish. In that moment, my two tendons could have given out and I would have finished crawling. After all, there were only ten kilometres left.

I cried with joy for almost the entire last kilometre to the beach. Just before arriving, at the last turn, my friend Hugo Lespagnol was waiting for me, sitting on a bench. Even though he had arrived three days earlier, he chose to wait for me so we could celebrate our HexaTrek together. Seeing him there moved me so much that I burst into sobs. We walked the last metres together, and as tradition demanded, I ran fully dressed into the ocean for a swim. That moment was so precious, made even happier by having my friend with me.

Guillaume and Hugo arrived soon after, and then came the champagne celebration on the beach. Each of us was feeling intense emotions in that moment.

I looked at the ocean the way I had looked, moved, at the mailbox in Wissembourg that marked the start of this adventure. 

I was there, at the finish, 150 days later. I had lived the most beautiful adventure, in full authenticity, creating bonds that will stay with me forever.

I would go back home with my head full of memories and my heart fired up with the desire to head out on another adventure.