World Wide Webbs

2020 Europe – France for One

A Sole Journey through the Cathar Country to the Pyrenees

July 7th Plymouth to France

Having packed for one, which was strange, and not really knowing where I would be going other than the Pyrenees (French or Spanish?), I set off for the overnight ferry from Plymouth to Roscoff.

Restrictions to safeguard against the spread of the Covid pandemic meant that there was a lot of uncertainty; although I was fairly sure I would need a mask, whatever it did to my ears.

Although check in for the ferry is staggered, there are not many vehicles so we are well on the way by 10pm. We were advised to stay in your cabins and wear a mask all the time we went out of the cabin.

A glass of red wine had to be taken to my wheelchair accessible cabin. This would have been large for two of us but for one it is huge. Being on the outside is a huge bonus as it is too cool and drizzly to be out on deck and at least you get a view!

July 8th Roscoff to Rosnay

The downside of a wheelchair friendly cabin is the automatic door. It opens when you press the plate on the wall. I was not aware of its dangers until I stripped off to shower. I lost my balance and fell back against it. The door automatically opened out onto the corridor and reveal me to all who might be passing. Luckily, no one.

These doors are made to be secure. It took a huge effort to push the door shut while sheltering behind it. I was not wearing a mask! There must be an easier way to close it. Croissant and coffee on board was nothing special. It kept me going until 11am. I stopped at a small service station near Angers. There, suitably masked, I had a much better pain au raisin and coffee.

When I had passed through customs there were no questions about where I was going and where I was staying. I had planned to drive straight through France to the Spanish Pyrenees. I had provisionally booked into a couple of sites. This was to provide evidence of my intentions to transit through France. These plans were not needed. So, by midday, I was confidently making my way passing Rennes and Angers towards Rosnay in the Brennes.

One of the disadvantages of travelling alone, apart from having to avoid toll roads, is that there is no-one to look ahead and find a good place for lunch! On the outskirts of Segre, I diverted to a Super U to get some lunch. I also picked up some other essentials: wine, beer, fizzy water, nibbles, and a lamb chop for tea.

I stopped at a dusty Aire on the outskirts of Bressac-Quince just south of the Loire, for a break. It was by some allotments that spread along the banks of the River L’Aubance. The walk beside the river could have been pleasant. Unfortunately, it was spoilt by the tissue and excreta beside the path. This happened because of the closure of the toilets at the Aire.

As I got nearer to the Brenne the roads got narrower and the villages and towns more intimate and interesting. Near Tournai St Michel, I almost drove off the road. I was trying to look at a flock of egrets in a lake. I stopped. It was very hot and I wandered along a shady lane for a while enjoying the butterflies.

Les Millots camp site at Rosnay was open and busy but a welcoming site. I found a plot overlooking the lake. It was reserved from the 11th of July. I could spend a few nights here if I wanted.

I paid the lady for two nights when she came around with her assistant both masked. No particular arrangements in the washing areas but hand sanitiser and notices encouraging caution.

I enjoyed a beer and some nibbles. Later, I sat in the shade in a relaxing chair (a benefit of travelling alone). I avoided a temperature of 29 degrees. I felt incredibly pleased with myself.

As it cools a little, I cycle out through Rosnay past the radio masts. I reach Etang Foucault, which is dry and has very little bird life. I carry on past Etang Blizon which does have water but little bird activity. On past Etang Masse where there is supposed to be a heronry but only one heron is apparent. I cycle on to the crossroads at Le Malpaus and turn back to the camp site a bit deflated.

A solitary meal is not very satisfying. I then walk into the village. The boulangerie has gone out of business. The tabac, which had been busy earlier, is now closed. Beyond is Hotel Louis a cafe bistro with a rough grass outside eating area that was busy. This wasn’t here last time or else it didn’t open in June. As I wander back, the church bell strikes the hour. It is nice to hear. I head back to the van.

July 9th The Brenne

I awake just before 6am the sun is coming up golden over the lake and mist is staring to rise. I’ve made a cup of tea, and the rising mist briefly obscures the sun. Then it is burnt away, and the temperature starts to soar. I put up the awning have breakfast before making bread and cheese lunch.

Around 9.30, I cycle off with a full pannier and equipped with a map from the kitchen area of the toilet block.

It is nice heading off on a familiar road. The day is heating up. The local red cattle are moving out of a deep blue lake. They walk onto the straw coloured grass under a strong blue sky to find shelter.

My first stop is at Etang Ricot. The sign on the hide door suggests disinfecting your hands before going in. However, I’ve forgotten to bring the hand gel.

I do however have my mask so I go in and join a solitary masked birdwatcher. We watch the ducks and their young slither onto grassy mounds sticking out of the water. A kingfisher lands on the log where Janet and I have previously seen tortoises. It starts fishing.

It goes on fishing for about five minutes occasionally darting back to the nearby overhanging tree. ‘Mon ami’ is clicking away furiously on his camera. We try to make conversation in French. We agree that it is vraiment magnifique and Quelle Bleu!

I follow a familiar route from here past the hide on the other side of Etang Ricot. Once again, there are huge hornets making a nest at the far end of the hide. Apart from disturbing some purple herons as I approach the hide the lake is pretty quiet.

At the end of the track there is the Terroir de Renard. I spend a delightful hour wandering out to the bird hide. I pass through clouds of butterflies. They are mainly gatekeepers, but also Marbled Whites, Banded Grayling, Coppers and Skippers. The lake was more interesting here. Young grebe families were present. Whiskered terns with their young could be seen. Some Ragondins were chewing away at the reeds around the edge.

I ride on through St Michel de Brenne. The bar there was busy with lunchtime cyclists. Then I move into Messienes where it is quiet, except for the bar. I have a beer. As there is no food on offer, I follow the cycle route. I stop by a lake just after Piegu to have lunch. Here I watch Herons, Egrets and Great Crested Grebe with their young.

It is now very hot. I wend my way along shady roads back to Le Blizon. I travel across the country to where the circular route started, up the road from the campsite this morning.

I decide, without having to consult anyone, that 48km cycling and 3km walking is enough for the day. I happily arrive back at the campsite at about the same time as I had arrived yesterday, 4.30pm.

There is a very nice Whitebeam in front of the emplacement by the lake. It sparkles in the sunlight ad rustles in the gentle breeze. To sit and read and doze is nice.

A ‘proper’ meal of lamb, tomato sauce and pasta is welcome but a fiddle for one. So from now on I will be sticking to easier, simpler food.

The evening cools down with a deep orange sunset perfectly complementing the golden sunrise. A walk around the lake and plan for tomorrow as it looks like it could be raining in the morning.

July 10th Rosnay to Rivierés

Grey skies and drizzle when I wake up. Potter around, breakfast, clear up and pack van. I fit the big chair onto the cycle rack where Janet’s bike usually goes. Leave the site at 9.15 then stop a short way down the road when I cannot locate my wallet ! Eventually I find it in the cycle pannier and so the journey can carry on.

The N20 from Argenton-sur-Creuse is dual carriageway but no tolls. I make good time down to Cahors. The weather is a mixture of sunshine and drizzle. I travel mainly on the main road, but partly on the old N20, after the péage starts. It passes through pleasant towns and villages that would otherwise be missed.

In Cahors I shop in a deserted supermarché and stock up for the next few days. After leaving Cahors, I drive back up onto the Causse. I stop for a lonesome lunch in a lay-by. My lunch is overlooked by the smiling faces of a field of sunflowers.

After lunch, I turn off the main road in Coussade. It takes less than an hour to reach Rivierés through steep limestone valleys. I cannot resist turning off the road. I explore Puycelci, a 12th century fortified hilltop village. It appears high above the road in the valley bottom.

In line with my ‘Cathars Country’ theme. Information boards in the village tell me that it featured in the Albigensian crusades. It was attacked without success by Simon de Montfort, the King’s representative against the Cathars.

When the Cathars were eventually dispersed or killed, the village was punished for its role in defending them and parts of it were destroyed. It still makes for an interesting half hour’s wander. You can also enjoy a glass of Rosé in a café with an amazing view.

I arrived at the campsite Les Pommiers d’Aiguelèze just after 5pm. The first English guest they have received so far this year. It is a small and busy family site, with lots of kids running about. On asking I get shown various cycle routes to get to Gaillac or Albi.

Before tea I cycle across flat open fields into Gaillac about half an hour away. I have a coffee in the main square and a wander around the town. It is a rather mediocre Tarn town with a lot of 15th century architecture in various states of repair.
I am back on the campsite by 9pm. I have a meal of sausages in lentils out of a tin. Afterwards, I enjoy some delicious cherries I had bought in Cahors.

July 11th Albi

It rained last night. I thought I heard it but the water on the table confirmed it. It is cloudy and cool when I wake up. I do some washing and shower before collecting the two croissants I had ordered last night.

A solitary breakfast with coffee and apricot jam to accompany the croissants. Each time the croissants have to be assessed after reading the book. The book is by the Guardian cookery writer. She cycled around France testing, amongst other things, croissants. These actually by her check list are very good and go down very well. The best certainly yet. Solitary eating is a bit of a faff but at least you can read a book.

Albi today. I have a cycle map and the campsite is about halfway around a circular 40km route that goes to Albi. It is sunny with clouds and a breeze as I cycle in.

The landscape is flat a wide plain between low hills. I avoid the main road and more importantly the steep road that leads up to the ridge top villages. Luckily other roads stay in the plain below the ridge.

Sunflowers smile at me from the fields and I make good progress into Albi in just under an hour. If the speed cameras are correct at a steady 17kph.

I leave the bike at the flea market which I wander around with my mask on. I use the map from the campsite. It guides me along the river to the Museum of Toulouse Lautrec. It is an interesting experience visiting a museum. Apart from the art there is an arrowed route to follow, mask to be worn and hands to be sanitised.

Henri de Toulouse –Lautrec was a French painter, printmaker, draughtsman, caricaturist, and illustrator. His lithograph portraits are of people in action rather than an exact likeness. They are very dynamic and heavy with colour. It was nice to recognise some of his work and overall I enjoyed the visit.

I visit the museum. Then, I go into the restaurant next door. There, I have Salade Gourmande and Crème Caramel. I wash it down with a glass of wine. I eat inside as it is quite windy in the narrow streets. Inside is cool, calm and quiet. I eat on a table by the window. Opposite me are two old ladies demolishing Moules Frites washed down with beer formidable!

After lunch I follow the circular walk around the old town which is more interesting than Gaillac was last night.

The history of the City was easier to see through the buildings like the Public Wash House. The Abattoir also showed this history, albeit with more modern uses.

I visited the central market. It was a more uptown affair than the flea market I had visited earlier. I treated myself to some cheese and strawberries.

Trying to follow the rest of the circular cycle ride back Rivierés is quite a challenge. The signs assume you are following the promoted anti-clockwise route which of course I am not.

I have a few false starts. Then, I use Google Map. It takes me roughly back to the dam. I had crossed the Tarn on that dam last night.
The route is interesting. It goes through rapidly suburbanising vineyards. The view of the broad river is enhanced by it being held high and wide by the dam.

When I am on the opposite side of the river to the campsite, I find a marina. It has grassy areas to sit on and provides shade from waterside trees. Here, I eat some fresh strawberries. I bought them at the Artisan covered market in Albi.

The way back to the campsite from here was straightforward and I was back before 5pm.

The washing was dry, the sun was hot and the pool empty. So I put on my Speedos and went into the cool pool for ten minutes. After that, many others arrived. I slunk away back to the van for an egg cheese and French bean salad. I also had an ice cold beer.

Martin phoned which was lovely and lifted my spirits. I went down to the riverside in the evening. I enjoyed the buzz of people and the light on the water. I thought of all the rivers around the world I had sat beside watching life pass by. I could have photographed it. I could have painted it. However, it was quite nice just to sit there. I was submerged in it.

July 12th Rivierés to Chateau de Queribus

I was awake at 7am after a good night’s sleep. Read a bit then slowly got up to be ready for breakfast at 8.30am when the croissants arrived.

I was away from the site by 9.30am. I stopped to get some tomatoes at the nearest shop. Then, I headed south towards Cathar Castles at Lastours and Termes.

I stop in Mezamet. I know the Cathar museum is not open. I have a coffee in a side street hotel. Mezamet is very hot and busy. Church services have just finished and many parishioners are appearing wearing masks as they make their way home.

I walk up to the museum nearby. It is shut. However, it has information boards outside which inform me. These boards tell me that Mezamet was first settled when a nearby fortified village, Hautpoul. The Visigoths originally built the castle at Hautpoul in 413. The Albigensian Crusade besieged it in 1212.

I also learnt about a cable suspension bridge spanning the gorge between Mazamet and Hautpoul. This bridge allows easy access to the village from here. Not to be missed, I drove up to the car park at the top of the town. I then climbed up the former Roman Road. This road led through the woods from the car park to the bridge.

The bridge slung high above the deep gorge reminded me of similar bridges in Nepal. A hot Sunday morning in mid-July was never going to be quiet. I joined hundreds of others, mainly families. They were making their way from the car park to the bridge and then up into the village.

Excitement filled the air. Kids were running excitedly everywhere. Fun-loving teenagers swayed the bridge from side to side. Groups of people bunched together in fear. We all made our way across against the flow coming the other way.

By the time I have made my way to the top of the village the crowds had thinned. Here stood a statue of Our Lady. From this point, there were wide views across the surrounding hills. You could also look back down to the town of Mazamet.

Up through the village were cafes and restaurants. There were shops and seats as well. A number of interesting information boards provided details of the history of the village.

Coming back down was equally busy but I enjoyed the hour or so I was there. I drive on and stop to look at the Memorial to the Miners of the Black Mountains. I am passing through them.

It is now early afternoon. I decide to skip the castle at Lastours. Instead, I head straight to Termes. Just after Lastours, I find a clear mountain stream. It runs through a narrow gorge. Here, you can look back at the castle. I stop to have a late lunch.

I get to the Chateau de Termes about 4pm. I make my way under darkening clouds to the entrance. There is an interesting video about the Chateau. I am shown how to download the App. that provides an audio tour of all the Cathar Castles in the area.

In contrast to Hautpoul there was nobody else in the ruins of the Chateau.

I wander up the steep track leading to it.

I had looked around most of the Chateau when it started to rain. A few heavy spots appear. They do not really increase until I come down. Then they soon peter out as I get back to the van. I realise that as it is now 5.30pm, I am not going to get to Quillan to camp for the night. Therefore, there is no need to rush. The Chateau I really want to see today is the Chateau de Peyrepertuse and it does not disappoint.

An hour’s drive through narrow roads across a landscape of scrubby olives and vines it looms up ahead of me. It is built along a spine of a limestone ridge between two valleys. The internal area is the same as the internal area of the walled town of Carcassonne, according to the App.
I get there at 6.30pm and luckily it is open until 8pm.

It’s a bit of a scramble to get up to the top. I do it quickly. This allows me a good hour to explore.

I wander around it for an hour before I have to leave. Below I see motor homes congregating for the night on a large grassy car park below the Chateau. I don’t want to be part of that. I make my way back down to the van and head off.

I make my way across the valley to the pass. It is below the Chateau de Queribus. I had seen it perched high on a cliff south east of Peyrepertuse.

I find a large empty parking area at the foot of the Chateau where I settle for the night.

As it gets dark, floodlights illuminate the Chateau above. I settle down and reflect upon an interesting day in the Corbières landscape.

July 13th Chateau De Queribus to Merens les Vals

I woke around 7am and lay with the side door open. I watched the sun rise on the mountains. I had tea, bread, and jam for breakfast. I took a short walk on the hill opposite. There, I realized I could see the Mediterranean Sea glinting to the east.

The Pays Cathar App includes guided tours of the main castles. It has a tour of Chateau de Queribus. The tour includes a 360-degree panorama from the top of the castle.

I hadn’t used the App much before now because it was a bit fiddly. However, I watched all the videos for the castles I had visited yesterday.

I set off for Quillan around 9am. I was disappointed to get coffee but no croissants. No boulangeries were open. I drank coffee and read up on Montsegur. I decided it wasn’t worth a visit. Chateau de Puivert sounded better.

I leave Quillan and head through Foix towards Puivert climbing high onto a mountain plateau. In the distance across the plateau I can see Chateau de Puivert honey gold on a low green hill.

When I’ve paid my money and gone in, there doesn’t seem much to see. Inside the main keep, however, there are four levels. You can access them by steep spiral stone staircases. These take you to different living areas, a guard room, a music room, and a chapel.

Exhibited in the music room is a display case of instruments’ including a set of pipes. A nice touch is the taped music in the chapel. You are encouraged to play it to make the experience more enjoyable.

Outside, in the courtyard, two people in period dress and giving demonstrations in weaving and knight craft. They are from a local re-enactment society. They obviously have a spot at the Chateau during the holiday season to entertain summer crowds. Unfortunately, only up to ten people can visit the Chateau at any one time.

I speak to the man in the ticket office on my way out. I notice he has some fresh croissants on his desk. I ask him where the nearest baker is. He directs me to a village on the way to Ax-les-Thermes. As I drive up out of the mountain plateau the landscape is stunning. High grassland plateaux lie within steep hillsides with deep sided valleys and oak woodlands.

I find the village of Belcaire. The shop is just closing for lunch. So all I can get is a flute. It is a bit big and looks a bit saggy!

I drive on to the Col de Chioula just above Ax. The views are amazing and the parking areas busy. I find a café with a terrace. I treat myself to the Plat and Desert of the day. I enjoy them with a cold beer. Bread for tea tonight!

Ax-les-Thermes is dull and not very busy. So, I drive into a side valley to Orlu. There is a valley running into the mountains leading to the GR10.

There is a camp site. It is not very exciting. Instead, I drive to Merens les Vals. One mile south of the town, I book onto a municipal site. The site is very mask aware.

It is a pleasant site and I have a pitch by a low hedge looking over fields down the valley. I walk back to Merens and up the GR10 reliving our trek through the Eastern Pyrenees twenty years ago. I climb up above the town to the sulphur pool. It is remembered as our first stop after leaving the railway station.

I was a little taken aback. The sulphur pool is now a series of sulphur pools. Stones have been laid out to make a chain of pools full of people taking the water. It was nothing like I remembered. It was a small, muddy, and rather smelly stream. We had brewed up a cup of tea there before walking up into the mountains.

After comparing this to the hot springs of the Nepalese valleys, I make my way back down to the town. At the campsite, even more signs advising the wearing of masks were being put up. They were even on the shower door!

On the way back through Merens walking parallel to the river I saw and watched and Pyrenean Desmon. It looked like a wet mole and was wriggling through the grass un-phased by my presence. I was worried about the dog following along behind.
The weather had been hot until lunchtime when it had clouded over and it was quite cool. Definitely back in the mountains!

 
July 14th Merens les Vals

I slept well in the cooler air waking just before 7am. I snuggled back under the duvet. I’ve not had a cold night before; it’s nice but not conducive to getting up. At 8am I do get up and prepare for the day. The Cathars behind me walking the mountains in front.

I collect a croissant and baguette from the camp shop. I have a leisurely breakfast. I prepare a picnic and pack my bag with a book, binoculars, camera, etc. I set off but then return because I have remembered my toothpicks. I cannot find my penknife, so I take another knife.

This time I set off with certainty. The pack is heavy, carrying water and coffee. I soon settle down to it. I go down the road to the GR10 sign. It will cut a corner off the climb to the car park at the beginning of the walk.

How many years have I been walking in these mountains? I should have know better. The path starts off well then fizzles out. It is clear I have to go straight up? I do so scrabbling through the undergrowth on the steep bank guided by Google Map.

Near the top I realise I haven’t got my glasses. I had them at the bottom of the slope several metres below. I must have dropped them somewhere on the slope. I return to two of the more strenuous bits of the climb but find nothing. Cursing my carelessness I go back up and join the track that leads to the car park.

The forecast is fine as is the weather and the crowds are out. The car park is full. It is overflowing as I pass through it. I start to follow the GR10 up the valley towards Etang de Compte. I join the queue at the beginning of the walk but as I climb it seems to separate out. Then there is a choice of paths to the lake on the right side or left side of the valley.

I follow the least attractive path to the left and it is much quieter. I soon catch up with two families with young children. They are trying to navigate through a particularly muddy bit of swamp. We make it through to the woods and the path marker and I leave them.

At the first pools of water, not the lake, many groups have stopped and children are playing in the water. A noticeable change over the years is the number of dogs being brought up the mountain. It’s a bit like Carne beach on a Sunday at low tide. I quickly move on to get out of earshot of their yapping.

The flowers, butterflies and views more than make up. Large coppers, false Apollo’s, Blues and Fritillaries are everywhere. I carry on up, past the Etang de Compte. My target is Etang de Cuart, which is six hundred metres above and three kilometres further on.

I go on up as far as the rock wall below the lake. Here I can see that the valley is narrow. The contours on the map indicate that the lake will have steep rocky shores.

So I stop on a small area of grass. It is intersected by streams. I cool my feet and eat my lunch.

The vultures that I had seen above me on the way up vanish when I get the binoculars out. I share my lunch with butterflies who insist on resting on my hand as I eat.

This will do, I think. At 3pm, with no desire to go on, I return to the lower lake. I swim to cool off. It is clouding over but the water is irresistible.

From here I just follow the GR10 back to the village. The path follows the river at times through pastures and parallel with it. Orchids, Pinks, Betony, St John’s Wort and Great Yellow Lilies fill the open grassy areas. Eventually the path descends steeply the river falling away into the gorge. It is all through woodlands with leaves lying on the rocky path. Soon an older track with s stone wall defines the route.

It is an ankle twisting descent. I come to the Village. I then follow the lane back up to the campsite. A good eight hour, day out.

I go for a shower only to find the water scalding hot. I wash in cooler water at the basin. I have a beer and make a call to Janet before supper and bed.

July 15th Merens les Vals to Lac de Bois-Artigues

The forecast is for cool cloudy weather with rain. I get up have breakfast and pack up. I fill the water tank as I’m aiming to do two nights rough camping.
I leave the site around 9.30 am. I travel west along the foothills of the Pyrenees. I pass Foix, St Gaudens, and Lourdes. Then, I head up to Laruns.
Road works at St Girons meant a thirty minute delay. However, the delay allowed for a stop at a bakery along the way. I bought some wholemeal bread and a delicious, still warm Croque Monsieur. I ate it whilst queuing.

I am not hungry for lunch but desperately need a coffee. It has rained but is starting to clear and the views south towards the mountains are patchy but comforting. I make my way through Lourdes to St Pee where I stop by the river and have some lunch.
From here it is not far to Laruns. I stop to shop for a few days, mainly buying fruit and veg. I also pick up some beer and wine before making my way up to Gabas.
The drive through Gabas feels very familiar. I continue up the valley to the dam at Lac de Bois-Artigues. I arrive at the former camp site, now a car park. A warden manning the barrier tells me I cannot stay in the car park overnight. However, I can stay in the car park up by the dam.

It is about 4.30pm but there are several spaces up there. I park the car, grab some water and a coat. Then, I walk up past the lake to the pastures beside the river below Pic du Midi d’Ossau. It is cool but the clouds have gone and the sun is bright.

I walk up and down the valley for a couple of hours. Then, I return to the van at about 7pm. There is more space in the car park now. I can back into a space beside another van. The other van is backing on to the woods.

A couple more motor homes turn up. I feel a bit more comfortable. The signs say no camping, motor homes, caravans, or any other thing can set up camp!

I sort out the van and start to make a meal. I hear violin and flute music coming from the van next to me. Cannot resist but pick up the tune being played and play it back on the whistle. SILENCE.

It starts again and I follow. This goes on for half an hour or so whilst I cook and eat my egg fried rice.

Whilst I am washing up the plates by the van, a young lady appears. She smiles, says bonjour shyly, and wanders off towards the lake. Half an hour later I hear flute music coming from down by the lake. It sounds lovely and I have an urge to get the pipes out.
I take them down to the lake a few hundred yards away from her and play a few slow airs. As the pipes come into tune it sounds and feels great. When I stop there is silence. Oh dear, I think I’ve spoilt her magical moment. I however silently thank her for encouraging me to play in such a wonderful setting.

I walk out along the dam wall. Before settling for the night, I look down into the car park. Lots of motor homes and vans are parked up for the night. Maybe I’ll go down there tomorrow night. It is very quiet. I am in bed by 11pm. I only doze for a couple of hours before I sleep.

July 16th Tours du Lacs

I am awake a 6am. Cars are arriving. The climbers who were sorting out their gear last night are getting ready. They plan to head up to the Pic du Midi.

I wander out along the dam wall. I check out the dry loo at the car park. Without glasses or light, I cannot read the instructions! I return to bed and stay there until 8am. At 8am, I pack up my bag for the day. I head off at 8.30am on the Tours du Lacs.

I start off at a steady plod which I keep going for an hour which is very satisfying. It brings me out of the woods high on the grassy mountainside facing the Pic du Midi. I stop for a while to enjoy the view. I have a drink and check out my boot. The toe end had broken off as I climbed up here.

I am just below the first lakes. I follow up beside a bright sparkling stream. It chuckles down the hillside. By 10.30 am, I am at Lac Gentau below the Refuge d’Ayous. I swim for about ten minutes, right out into the middle of the lake and back.

The water is surprisingly warm. It is delightful by the lake as more and more families come up.

At one point, as I had lunch, a flock of sheep mobbed me. They charged up the mountainside. A large Pyrenean Mountain Dog watched over them. The dog was more interested in my bathing costume and lunch than in the sheep. He was friendly enough. He took his flock further up the mountain.

It was one o’clock by the time I had had lunch and decided to move on. It is always hard to leave this lake. Once I had climbed up past the other lakes towards the Col de Mines and the Spanish border, I was really enjoying myself. I liked the steady pace I was moving at and the climb just drifted by. There were a lot of people around at the lakes but no dogs.

I stopped at the pass by Pic Casterau at about 2100 metres. I lingered for a long while enjoying the view. I also watched a couple of vultures.

At 3pm, a little cloud starts rising in the valley. I begin my descent to the constant sound of bells. The bells are worn by sheep, cows, and horses alike. Here in the shadows of the vultures there is a paradise of flowers and butterflies.

Why do descents have to be so painful?
You’d think it would be easier going down. I get down to where I had got to last night and all is feeling good. I hope we can both get here again it is one of my favourite parts of the Pyrenees.

I will return to the van. I think it will be nice to park down in the old campsite for the night. This is despite the signs saying you can’t.

I set up the van for the night. I make a stir fry for supper. I sit outside eating it as the clouds drift up the valley and envelop me in mist. I use the extra space here to wash. I tidy up before returning to the car park by the dam. It is still misty there, but more sheltered.

July 17th Lac de Bois-Artigues – Barrage D’Ossoue

The cloud is down but lifting when I wake at 7am. I go for a wander along the dam wall before packing the van. The mist is on the lake and the sun is starting to break through making it very atmospheric.

I head on down into the cloud into Laruns. There, I have a breakfast of two croissants and a coffee. I also make use of their toilet. Now I’m ready to tackle the day. The cloud is breaking a bit. However, it is still dull as I drive over the Col de Aubisque to the Col de Somport. It is drizzling. I remember that the last time we went over this Col, we did it in a thunder storm. It is all very dramatic, but not much in the way of views.

I descend from Col de Somport to Bun. Then I go up to the Lac d’Etaing. It has a huge open parking area, an Auberge, and a campsite. It just doesn’t feel that I want to stay here and explore the area on my own. I do however spend four hours wandering up the valley watching butterflies and particularly Clouded Apollo’s. It is very busy lots of families walking or playing by the lake.

I have lunch here. Then, I head on the Luz St Saveur on a delightful back road. This road misses out Argeles Gazost. It cuts a corner to the Luz road at Pierrefitte–Nastalas.

I stop in Luz and do some shopping, check emails etc., and then head up to the Ossoue Valley and the Pic de Vignemale.

It is very familiar. I make my way up through Gedre and Gavarnie. I then turn off on the narrow road that leads up the Ossoue valley. I had forgotten that half the way up is tarmacked and the second half a rough stone track. I drive right up to the barrage where I can park up out of the National Park.

I manage to park just off the track on some level grass looking straight at Vignemale and its glacier. It is stunning and exhilarating to be here.

It gradually clouds over and cools down as I sit and read for a bit before making tea. I’ve parked close to a Spanish VW transporter van. Three more cars come up and park alongside it. The occupants put on back packs, pick up Ice Axes and set off towards Vignemale.

Another combo-van parks a little way off but they don’t seem to be going anywhere. It is amazing! With all the preparations before they move off, they still come back. They check things or get something else from the van!

It is cooling down rapidly. The cloud is hanging only a few hundred metres above us. I am parked at 1800 metres. I tune into Spanish Radio 3, it’s nice to hear voices.

Around 9pm another VW transporter van arrives and parks nearby. A woman gets out and unpacks and sorts out the van. Around 10, in the dark, a large people carrier arrives. It parks noisily with four people in it just behind me. They meet up with this woman. After much toing and froing, they settle down for the night.

I am having my own drama at the time. The bench drawer has jammed. I search desperately for something to free it. This involves emptying out the rear of the van. I take the jack pack out. I untangle the third seat belt that had jammed under the drawer. Finally, I release the drawer. It takes about half an hour. By the time I have finished, a two man tent is being erected right by the van door!

It quietens down quickly and I soon get to sleep. Around 3am I get up for a pee. The sky is clear; there is no moon; the stars are amazing, shooting stars as well. I love the freshness of the cold clear air but am glad to get back under the duvet.

July 18th Valley D’Ossoue

At 5.30am around the van people are moving. Their quiet mutterings, as they sort out their rucksacks and pack up tents. I had forgotten: the excitement of starting out for a walk or a climb in the pre dawn dark.

It immediately took me back to Nepal and the early start for the Annapurna Sanctuary. Why do we need to speak in whispers when we would talk normally in the daylight?

There is a little light in the sky. It is irresistible. I put on my trousers, my puffer jacket, my woolly hat and even my boots! I only carry a camera but it’s great to be up with these be-torched people. I wander up to the high point above the barrage.

There are two man tents everywhere.

Pin pricks of torch light being lost as the daylight increases. It’s like a drug I can’t get enough of it. I had never imagined it would be like this camping up here. I had hoped I would be on my own. WHY!!

Pictures taken, I go back to the van. I undress and get back into bed. I stay there until the sun comes up over the van. More people are arriving all the time driving up to park or walking past on their way up to Vignemale. The moment has passed. I no longer have any desire to be with them. I am looking forward to my walk down the valley and around.

As I lay in the van I watch a family of marmots emerging from their burrow a few metres away. Three pups and an adult, the pups play fighting and chasing insects and the adult keeping a constant watch. There are also some wheatear fledglings rocking unsteadily as they try out flying between the tops of Great Yellow Lilies.

I eventually get on my way about 9am walking down the track. It’s bright and warm. As I go down I see people in cars and vans are parked on flatter areas by the river. Among them a family of six in an older VW van brings back fond memories.

I find the place where we had rough camped over thirty years ago. Janet walked all the way down to Gavarnie and back from here. She did it to get food for all of us 32 years ago.

Access is blocked off with rocks now.

The old stone hut has been restored. An information board fixed beside it tells the story of transhumance. Cattle were brought up to the mountain pastures from the Spanish and French valleys below.

The date for start of transhumance is usually the 18th July, today. There’s no sign of it happening. People are moving from the valleys to the mountains. However, there is no sign of livestock of any kind today.

I go on to the bridge crossing of the river and realise I do not have my walking pole. I must have left it on the old rough camping site when I was taking photos. I decide to go back down there this evening. This turns out to be an unwise decision, rather than going all the way back now.

We have used the path up from the bridge many times in the opposite direction. However, we always lose the path shortly after we start descending.

Part of the reason to walk this way today is to try and establish exactly where the path does go. Whilst the path up from the bridge is easy to follow to start with about halfway up I lose it and stumble straight on up to the GR10 disturbing some marmots on my way up.

I realise as I get to the top that I had only just missed the path. It came out by the line of pipeline manhole covers. I missed it by not cutting back behind a large knoll. Remember for next time!

It is getting very hot by the time I reach Penguin Pool. It is the same always the same. Clear cool water tumbling noisily, almost drowning the redstarts flying in the shadows of the boulders catching insects. The flowers are yellow, blue, and purple. The blue butterflies settle on anything slightly salty, like my arms, the rucksack, and the binoculars. The horse flies -I’d forgotten them but they were delighted to see me. I have a dip in the pool which discourages them.

Each time I come here I say this will be the last time but maybe a couple more times.

After an hour the horse flies are starting to win. I walk leisurely along this beautifully contoured path. Eventually, I am back out of the side valley above the main valley. From there, I watch walkers and climbers making their way across the snowfields of Vignemale.

At a suitable rock, I stop for lunch. To my delight, I find my whistle in the bottom of the rucksack. In total isolation, I play to my heart’s content and the annoyance of local marmots who shriek their accompaniment.

From here, the walk continues to delight. It contours around to the next valley. Then it descends to the barrage for a swim before returning to where I am parked.

I have a quick beer. Then I go back down the road to retrieve my walking pole. Unfortunately, this is a wasted four kilometres. Fizzy water, ginger cordial, rice crackers and the remains of the terrine sort me out.

I put up the roof and get out the table and chairs. I enjoy watching people returning from their day’s walk. They pass on back down the valley. After a stir fry for tea it is getting dark and I get ready for bed.

New people are arriving and squeezing their vehicles into odd corners. Busy tonight!

July 19th Valley D’Ossoue

The day starts at 4.30am! The first cars arrive with groups parking in tight spots and sorting themselves out. Exciting like yesterday morning but I am not tempted to get up and join them. Instead I stay in bed and doze eventually getting up around 7am. After coffee and breakfast I sort out the van and get the roof down. I promised to phone Janet today. When I get back, I’ll drive down to Gavarnie to get a phone signal.

I start my journey by 8am. I walk up the valley to the Col de Bernatoire on the Spanish border. It is supposed to take two and a half hours. I potter along, aiming to get there for lunch time.

I am there by 11 am as the sun is not in the valley. It is necessary to keep moving because it is cool in the shadows.

To my delight, the phone pings. I can phone Janet and have a chat for half an hour. Even more exciting, I get messages and What’s App postings. I can also watch the highlights of Arsenal’s winning of the FA cup semi-final against Manchester City. This is in addition to them beating of Liverpool earlier in the week. BLISS!

There is a lake directly below the pass on the Spanish side. The way down is steep and rocky. So, I just settle down on the col. I listen to the happy cries of people swimming below.

I stay on the col and have an early lunch before heading down. Halfway down I find a deep pool and plunge into it a couple of times.

I get back to the barrage around 3pm and swim in the lake. Possibly the last wild swim of the holiday !

I get back to the van around 4pm and have a beer. I drive down the dusty track to the plateau below where there are few if any cars.

It is very hot. I sort out the van, ready for the journey home tomorrow. I fix my glasses AGAIN, having stepped on them at lunchtime. I enjoy a glass of cold white wine while sheltering in the shade of the van. It is too windy for the awning.

It is so beautiful here. I don’t want the day to end, just cool down a bit. As I sit here, families are coming out of the mountains into the valley. They are tired but happy. Some need to be carried, but most are walking like robots.

This IS a place to come back to. It is very different being away from people. There is a family of four a bit further up the valley and a couple of cars. I suppose the weekend is over and most will be heading home. I chill out with wine, music and food and by 10pm I am in bed.

I wake up at 1am to go to the loo and the stars are amazing. I get the telescope out and put it on its tripod. With the binoculars and the Stellarium app, I spend the next hour looking at the stars and planets. There is an especially good view of Jupiter and Saturn with their moons and rings. I even watch a shooting star cross the sky eventually fading out. Shivering and cold by 2am I pack everything up and get back to bed.

July 20th Valley D’Ossoue – St Foy la Grande

I am awake at 7am. It is quiet and still, the sun picking out the peaks around me. I very reluctantly get up and pack up the van. I have a leisurely breakfast and say goodbye to the mountains.

I eventually get going around 9am. It takes an hour to make my way down through a bustling Gavarnie to Luz. I drop my rubbish off at Gedre en route.
Luz was packed, there was a street market on and I was lucky to get a parking space at Carrefour. After some shopping there, I have a cup of coffee. I enjoy a croissant up on the crossroads and plan my day.

I then visit the market and buy some optimistically priced dried pineapple. Next, I go to the cheese shop by the crossroads. There, I buy two quarters of cheese. One is brebis/vache, and one is brebis/vache/chevre. Back at the van I realise I have a stowaway on board, a tiny lizard. What am I going to do about him?

I leave Luz around 11am and drive past Lourdes and Tarbes. Here the Pyrenees are shadows in the misty haze. They look just like the first time we saw them all those years ago. I am back on the road to the Dordogne and St Foy le Grande. I cannot resist the temptation to divert off my route. I want to visit the village of Madiran.

It is a charming village (and doesn’t it know it). However, there is no restaurant for lunch. After a brief wander around, I drive on.

As I rejoin the main road I check on Google and find a transport café just up the road. It serves a basic three course set menu and is crammed with truckers and a few travellers like me.

I am given a table on my own which under present circumstances is not a bad idea. I enjoy Avocado and cold meats as an entrée. For the main course, I have sausage and chips because the chicken had all gone. I select a ‘choose your own’ desert from the fridge. It is all washed down with a pichet of Rosé. Not bad for €12.

Restored I drive on along small rural roads to St Foy la Grande. It is a once stunning little bastide town. It boasts Camping Bastide and an expensive (€24) small campsite. The campsite is run by a Yorkshire man and his son. They operate it in strict accordance with the Caravan and Camping Club of Great Britain Covid guidance. Every other plot was shut off. Only eight people were allowed in the swimming pool. Only one person could wash up at a time. Hand sanitiser to die for but no loo paper as it could act as a vector for Covid.

You only found this out when you were sitting in the loo. A sign, in French and English, told you that normally there would be loo paper in the dispenser. Because of Covid, campers could collect some from the office for free! A bit late to find out! And it didn’t specify how many sheets you would be given!

The town was completely shut down and pretty depressed, past its former glory. After a stroll around, I return to the campsite for a swim with three others. Then, I settle down to the hottest day yet. It reached 38 degrees. It didn’t get much cooler until about 2am when a light breeze got up.

I was very pleased with myself. I had remembered to wash a shirt and a couple of pairs of socks and pants for the journey home. They were dry within two hours.

Eventually sleep overcame me and I itched my way through the night.

A young Polish family were in the next plot but one to me. They had a baby and a girl about three years old. They closed up the van to sleep that night. I don’t know how they survived.

July 21st St Foy la Grande – Col de Roc Treredon

I was very pleased with myself that I had remembered our wedding anniversary. I had a chat before breakfast with Janet. She was just going off with Candy to swim at Pendower. That seemed very attractive.

I packed up. I disconnected the electricity, which had charged the van overnight. I emptied the waste water tank. I filled up with water and was off site by 9am.

I put my head down and started a long day’s drive. It began with a stop at a large Le Clerc’s for wine and mackerel. I also got some reading glasses and a thermometer for Janet.

The steady drive from here on was very pleasant. Around lunchtime, none of the villages offered much for lunch. I again tried Google whilst stuck in a hold-up for road works. To my delight I was advised that Chez Francis a bakery/café was just the other end of the road works.

There it was, offering a three course set menu for €14. You could enjoy a Macedonian Salad. Then, try the Duck and Mushroom Pasta. Finish with an apricot and pistachio nut tart for pudding. All of this is washed down with a glass of Rosé.

Totally stuffed I drove for the next two hours looking for somewhere to stop and sleep. Nothing was found. After an abortive tour near Bressoire, I revived and continued on. I stopped only at Hennebont for Ricard and diesel. I then arrived at Col De Roc Treredon where the sun was slowly setting and a cool breeze was blowing.

There were a few other people there enjoying the sunset but by 11pm they were gone.

July 22nd Col de Roc Treredon – Home

After a good night’s sleep I was woken by the sun at 7am. I went for a short walk along the ridge before a light breakfast and coffee.

I make my way down to Carantec, a ‘St Mawes’ like seaside resort. I walked out along the coast path skirting the up-market housing.

The day is hot and clear. The water sparkles as I watch flotillas of dinghies and paddle boards being towed out into the bay for lessons. The beaches were empty but it was only 10am.

From here to St Pol de Leon, I visited both the Cathedral and the Town’s Parish church. Each was interesting in its own way.

I went for an early lunch of scallops, goats cheese salad, and crepes. I washed it down with traditionally served cider. After that, I went on to Roscoff to catch the ferry home.

As we approached Plymouth, I looked out of the cabin porthole. I saw a pod of Dolphins jumping in the wake of the boat. We travelled through a glass smooth sea.

I arrive home at 11pm and park. I look at the milometer: 1832 miles. It was a great time, but it’s good to be home.