Friday, 7 June 2013

Perched on the Pyrenees

Written 06June, at St Jean Pied de Port

With another hot day forecast for today, and another fairly late start we got the washing into the washing machine before setting off with packed lunch, by car toward the SE. Mary was keen to take a small walk in the country so that was our initial plan and flexibility was built in because we had the car available.

Yesterday I’d found a likely circuit of about 4km for today’s walk, starting at the village of Bastide a short drive from our base. Aerial reconnaisance (via satellite view) showed it had a mix of rural and village environments, had no steep sections and a couple of bridges crossing small streams. Pretty, in other words, especially on such a day as this.

The planned circuit. Critical points were recorded as “bookmarks” on the iPad for instant recall and viewing as needed.

A shady place to leave the car was found and we set off, using only the iPad to navigate. The first navigation problem was encountered almost immediately when an important part of the selected route, as displayed on the map, was found on the ground to be gated and running through private property. This is a common problem with paper maps, which in any case have nowhere near the detail of digital maps. Taking a quick look at the map on the iPad I quickly found an alternative and we were back on track in a flash. Problem reported to Apple via the simple process provided.

By Mary. The countryside is lush after quite heavy rain in early spring.

By Mary, who really liked the garden at this fairly typical home just outside a village.

A church spire can be a good aid to navigation. About half way through the amble.

We arrived at the church right on noon and its bells pealed, probably not for our arrival. This small church’s design demonstrated a possibly defunct local custom. In most if not all Basque country churches we've visited there are inside galleries constructed along the back and sides, sometimes two extra floors high. Mary queried the reason for this with a local expert and was told that for attendance at services the sexes were segregated. Men used the above-floor galleries while women used the ground floor. This particular church had separate elevated side entrances outdoor leading to the galleries.

So it was noon, hot and we’d just walked four km, returning to our car from the opposite direction to that when we left it. The small hotel was open for business and we each ordered an icy cold beer which we sipped and savoured on the shaded terrace, while pondering our next adventure.

Nothing like a cold beer on a hot day!

Taking a good look at the map, I discovered that the D18 road, running past the hotel where we were sitting led south toward those mountains we could see in the second pic above. It then linked with the D301 which worked its way back to St Jean PdP. Clearly, this route was likely to provide great views and the distance for a car wasn’t great so we set out without prevarication and didn’t regret it.

The selected route. The Spanish border can be seen only a few km away at bottom left.

On the way up.

As lunch time was upon us, we first looked for a picnic location “par excellence”. Given that we were climbing steeply and the sky was clear the chances were pretty good and soon we had pulled into an unoccupied parking area at the top of a big climb. We were the only people around and the views were amazing.

Our car parked in the parking area. We’d walked away into the shade to eat our lunch.

How’s this for a lunch venue?

We were the only people around at first but then after ten minutes or so another car pulled up near ours and the three occupants walked toward our shaded possie. The first of these interlopers carried three baguettes and somehow did not seem French, so on a whim I directed a question to him in Australian. Sure enough, he and his lady friend were Aussies and they were accompanied by a French guy who could speak English. We had a pleasant few minutes speaking our native tongue on this plateau in the Pyrenees, the first opportunity that we’d had in over two weeks, except to each other, of course.

Shaded lunch spot, from the car park area.

After lunch we moved off, giving a farewell wave to the other group who had positioned themselves for a shady sit-down lunch just a little further up the slope than we had. Barely had we gone two hundred metres when we came across several enormous bearded vultures (lammergaiers) soaring on the breeze being drawn up the slope. This confirmed for me that the huge birds that I had seen earlier in the week were not Golden Eagles, but vultures. We parked the car and watched with a group of German motorcyclists as these impressive birds drifted past our precipitous viewpoint.

Where the vultures soared.

We moved on. Dramatic scenery just kept arriving around every corner and soon we were up onto an alpine meadow environment where occasional flocks of sheep could be sighted huddled around stark rocky outcrops. Hardly any other vehicles or people were encountered and the sky continued to be clear although hints of forthcoming thunder storms were evident.

One flock, alone on an unfenced alpine meadow.

Raining below us.

By Mary. Two horses keeping close company when no others were to be seen. High on the alpine meadow.

Belled cow, up on the alpine meadow. The tinkling noises of the cow bells could be heard clearly as they grazed peacefully several hundred metres away.

The journey back down the mountain and through the valley was no less dramatic, especially as the road suddenly narrowed to a single car width, but still bitumenised. Fortunately oncoming traffic was almost non-existent and the scenery remained dramatic to the last. This was a road trip selected purely by examining a map and taking a chance. One of the best short road trips we’ve ever done.

Thanks for reading

Kev

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