Pam and the Pyrenees

This is a bit of a summary of a trip I did in July in the Pyrenees. Walking we a friend, we started in Hendaye in France and used the long distance walkilng trails called the GR 10, 11 and HRP, crossing to and fro between France and Spain. We trekked about 400km, getting approximately just under half way from west to east in the time we had. The rest is for another year!

There’s a lot of gites and refuges en route, and we also carried a tent which we used about one third of the time. Before I left purchased a Black Diamond Firstlight single skin tent, a Mountain Hardwear Sleeping Bag and a GoLite Backpack. Total weight of all 3 items 2.8kg. In fact my fully laden pack weight was 12-13kg.

UPDATE 17 JULY

Well we’ve been 2 weeks walking now. We started out in rain and cloud from Hendaye on the west coast. It was up from the very beginning. The pattern is mostly that you climb up every morning and down every afternoon. And generally about 1000 metres, so it’s rather like going up and down Bluff Knoll every day. More than a little testing on aged knees!

The Basque country was very lush, green hillsides dotted with white cottages with their orange tiled rooves. You would come across a shepherd’s hut at the top of a mountain pass and it would advertise the sale of “fromage du brebis” (sheep cheese). I idly wondered did these cottages which looked unchanged for hundreds of years, hide computers in their interiors? Well Gisela answered my wonderings a few days later when she read in a magazine how the E.U has had a programme of promoting the internet to the farmers so that now 70% of their cheese sales are via the internet! Question answered.

I am happy to report that my tent has survived the rain test well. We’ve used it 4 times and once in very heavy rain (and thunder and lightning). My backpack has given me a few woes, tho it’s OK now. I’m carrying about 12 kilo but I’m not convinced I wouldn’t be more comfortable with my conventional one. The sleeping bag, due to the high temps, has not really been tested.

We had one interesting night when we camped part way up a mountain, ready for a good start the next day. At 6.30am we were woken by a French guy who had camped below us (and whom we had encountered for a couple of days), wanting to know what we were going to do. There had been thunder and lightning and there was mist everywhere. I thought it was a bit ominous he was relying on the decision of a couple of Aussies. As it turned out we tried to go up, but then retreated due to poor visibility.

However, since then the weather has improved a lot. In fact I’m already sporting my usual gaiter tan. The French are amused by my gaiters-especially when I explain “pour proteger des viperes”!

Mostly we have been staying at “gites”, kind of walkers’ hostels. It’s been some years since I shared a room with 12 strangers. You can usually get meals there and the evening meals have been quite good, tho often we crave more carbohydrate. And where do all the veges from the wonderful gardens we see, end up? Breakfast is a bit hard for us, I mean how far can you walk on a few bits of French bread and jam? Shops are few and far between, so maybe I really will return a fragment of my former self?? Where is Dianne when you need her?

We’re now in Borce, about half way and tomorrow we start the higher and more remote part of the trip. The mountains are wonderful, craggy peaks soaring into the sky. And the wildflowers have been fantastic.

More to follow…….

THE HIGH PYRENEES……. to 22nd July

We took a day off, no not so much as to rest but to take a bus to a nearby town to stock up on food! As we were heading into more remote areas and food hadn’t been that plentiful so far, we wanted to be prepared. The town was Oloron St Marie and we were most excited to find a huge outdoors store where we could buy more gas, dehydrated food, energy bars, and even some gloves to replace the ones I lost. And then we went upstairs to a cafe to find it was an internet cafe, so all our needs were met!

The following day we tackled the famous “Chemin de la Mature”. It is this most amazing pathway built into the side of a cliff. Built in 1772 to transport trunks of massive trees across the mountains to be floated down the river and later to be made into masts for sailing ships. I can’t imagine how many lives were lost in the bulding of the track. I was certainly pretty conscious of my own as we carefully made our way along the 2 metre wide path, grateful for the mist that came in and gradually engulfed the chasm that lay below.

I have to say that that day the wildflowers were quite stunning. I know we think that here in the west our flowers can’t be beaten but it was pretty impressive competition. Some I could recognise as exotic garden flowers to us, such as the irises, others were completely foreign to me. We went in and out of the mist all day, and finally we were treated to a fabulous mountain panorama of peaks with the clouds settled below them. On attaining 2300m, we were rewarded with a spectacular view of Pic Du Midi D’ossau and we descended to make camp beside a lake with this peak towering above. In true style we had a quick dip in the lake, yes it was extremely cold; but what could else could you do with such a beautiful clear mountain lake?

The next day we left the security of the GR10, the well marked route we had been following for two weeks. We headed off on the HRP- the Haute Route Pyrenee, or High Route. Although not well marked and often quite rugged, it does have the advantage that it tends to stay high, rather than constantly ascending and descending in and out of towns. On this occasion it took us to another lake, Lac Du Peyreget, where we had another quick dip over an extended lunch break. A further 300 metre climb through a boulder field took us to another col (or saddle) for more more fanastic views.Descending, we arrived at our first “refuge”. The distinction between a “gite” and a refuge seems to be their remoteness. You can’t drive to a refuge( tho very often there may be a cable car or “petit train” not too far away!). I remember arriving hungry, as we so often were! We downed a plate of couscous and turkey mid afternoon.

We camped that night near the refuge and had thunder, lightning and rain during the night. The Black Diamond tent withstood it all! There was cloud all around when we woke, but we knew it wouldn’t lift, so after a surprise breakfast (muesli was provided) off we set.

I was told the walking paths would be busy, but you just can’t imagine it. Last year I walked on the Bibb track for 5 days and had the shelters to myself every night. Here you have 20, 40 even 100 people staying at or around a refuge. And in some cases one squat loo. I didn’t even want to think about where the waste was going.

We spent the whole of that day walking in cloud and mist and hence saw nothing. We arrived at Arremoulit refuge, a tiny little building that manages to squeeze 28 people onto platforms inside and a further ? people outside in a marqee. It was run by a couple (well, HE had his name everywhere but SHE seemed to do all the work). As the next day was covered in cloud again we decided to take a rest day- so as to see where we had come! Finally, during our rest day, the cloud lifted to reveal 2 beautiful lakes on our doorstep ,against a backdrop of high mountain ranges. We were there for a Saturday night, and during the afternoon (which was not great weather-wise), people began arriving. For the evening meal, there would have been more than 40 people crammed into the tiny buiding. A table (an old door) was created in the sleeping area. And this wonder woman managed to feed everyone- an excellent meal, and with no apparent fuss or stress. Oh and she had a one year old as well!

Our plan from Arremoulit was to cross into Spain, so we set off the next day, stilll not in great weather. More up and down brought us to Refuge Respumoso- and what a contrast. This was a purpose built modern refuge near a dam. Lots of the lakes in the Pyrenees have been dammed for their hydrelectric potential. We could see no roads and wondered how the dam and refuge were firstly, built, and secondly, serviced. Our wonder was soon replaced with the pleasure of food and a cold beer!

AND ONWARDS TO THE BRECHE…..

After a very comfortable night, we woke to a not altogether bright day. In fact the wind was positively howling. However we headed off, knowing we had a formidable day ahead, with a 2800m pass, our highest yet. As we started to climb, so it began to rain. And the cloud got lower and lower. We were equipped for some poor weather but not really cold and wet weather- for instance we had no wet weather pants. We reached 2450metres and then began to climb a scree slope in pouring rain. The wind was worse and visibility was dropping every minute. Finally we made the decision to turn back. It was not so much getting to the pass, it was the other side that concerned us- it was apparently steep, poorly marked and still a lot of snow about. We’d walked for about 2 hours and it took us another 1 1/2 to return to the refuge.

We didn’t really want to sit around and hope for a better day tomorrow so we went back to the map. And came up with a plan. We descended 3 hours in a different direction using the GR11, hitchhiked to a town and then caught a taxi and ended up at the very same town we had planned to get to via the pass! So were we pikers or just plain resourceful?

That night was spent at Balnearios de Panticosa, a very interesting little town, that was in the process of being totally revamped- so much so that it felt like we were staying in the middle of a construction site. But a very nice refuge and an excellent evening meal.

The following day, after our usual ascent, we had a delightful walk along a stream for most of the afternoon and we camped beside it, once again braving the icy waters for our swim. As we were walking along the next morning I began fantasizing about bacon and eggs. After only a short time we arrived at a refuge- which, can you believe it, offered bacon and eggs for breakfast!!!! I cannot tell you how good it tasted.

Now our diversion into Spain was designed to take us into the Ordesa National Park, which, as promised, is beautiful. It’ s kind of like a Grand Canyon. We spent a couple of nights in the lovely town of Torla, and had a day in the park without packs, before we headed up through the park and to Refuge Goriz.

Which brings me to the expression “Passage Delicate”. What a delightful phrase. It basically means that if you don’t have a head for heights, don’t go there. We had come across this phrase several times and always chose (the usually longer) alternative. And the track to Refuge Goriz again mentioned “Passage Delicate”, this one complete with chain on the cliff to cling to. So we took the long route instead and arrived safely at Refuge Goriz- high in the mountains. Very remote and you would expect not too many people. Wrong. I would say about 100 people stayed there that night. Either in the refuge or camped around it.

28th July-my 55th birthday and we headed for the culmination of our trip- the Breche Du Roland, a 2800 pass on the border of France and Spain. Every day I had seen its photo on the front cover of the guide book we’d been using. We’d read the guide book and planned once again to avoid the “Passage Delicate”. It was quite straighforward until we got to a point where it suggested we avoid not just the delicate passage, but the section that was “for experienced mountaineers only”. For once the guide book was not entirely clear. We began scrambling over boulders and trying to follow cairns, but there were cairns everywhere. And where were all those other 98 people? I followed Gisela this time over a fairly precarious section and we looked up, thinking we’d avoided the dangerous section. We crossed a stretch of snow; we could see where we needed to get to, just not how to get there. But we could see a path that traversed the cliff higher up and there were people on it. So we headed up to it. We’d only gone for a few minutes and I turned to Gisela and said “Hmmm… I think we have a Passage Delicate” coming up. There was a chain fixed to the rock. The cliff suddenly dropped away and we had to dig our toes into a shelf about 10cm wide and walk along it for about 40 metres, clinging to the chain bolted into the rock. We were now “experienced mountaineers”. I began to think there must be other ways to turn 55. Perhaps a nice chocolate cake with candles???

Anyway a few minutes later we sitting atop the Breche (along with dozens of others who had walked up from the French side). Spectacular views in all directions. I could have sat there for ages, but Gisela had had enough of teetering on the brink of mountain edges, so we made our way down the snow on the far side, thankfully nice and slushy due to the hot sunny day.

That night was spent camped underneath the Breche near the refuge, enjoying a bottle of red for my birthday. To our right was the Cirque de Gavarnie, with the tallest waterfall in Europe gushing down its face. An appropriate backdrop for the last night of out Pyrenean adventure!