With nothing but a small guidebook and a real map(!)
to guide us we made plans to spend a week walking a horseshoe shaped route from Cauteret in France, across the border into Spain, to Torla, from where we would hike the Ordesa Canyon and then take a route via the Valle De Anisclo back up to the Spanish/French border where we would cross through the the Breche de Roland and finish back in Gavarnie, France.
On paper (for that was all we had) it looked simple, and it would have been had some rather severe weather not come in and rather changed our plans...
We flew from Heathrow to Charles De Gaulle airport where we spent a very uncomfortable night before catching our connecting flight to Lourdes. There, we caught a bus to the very picturesque town of Cauteret, from where we commenced our hike.
Our first day took us up the beautiful Valle du Marcadau, which contained a number of amazing waterfalls.
It was a fantastic start to our trek. Memory fails me as to exactly where we camped that night, but we pitched the tent as the sun set and gratefully got into our sleeping bags after such little sleep the night before.
The next day started beautifully, with an amazing sunrise and views up the valley.
This was the first time I had trekked in such mountainous scenery, and I was immensely excited to have such a rugged and open landscape as my home for a few days.
Consulting the guidebook, we headed on up the valley towards the Lac d'Arratille, enjoying the warm sun and the expansive views all around us.
The Lake was stunning and had a beautiful waterfall at one end, the cooling spray from it wa a welcome relief form the increasing heat of the day.
Again though, it was time to move on and we shouldered our backpacks and set of on the steepening slopes up towards the ridge line and the border between France and Spain.
Our next stop was the Col d'Arratille, and it was here that we encountered our first snow bank. This was particularly exciting given it was the tail end of summer and it gave an indication of how much snow must fall in this spot and also of how cold it must remain throughout the rest of the year.
From here the climb became steeper and more of a scramble in places as we lost the designated path and simply made our way upwards towards the ridgeline, which we knew the border and the major valley we needed to trek down was just on the other side off
As we approached the highest part of the ridge, we saw a peak that at the time I thought was Vignemale, but I now believe I was mistaken. Whether it was or not, it made for a great shot!
Again, my memory is slightly sketchy about the actual border crossing, but I do remember the light fading as we made our way gingerly down a slope of loose rock into the valley below.
As we descended Conrad spotted the red painted roof of a stable (being colour blind, it was invisible to me!) and we made our way towards that as a potential shelter for the night.
It was a welcome spot to reach and we set up our sleeping bags inside, on a ground sheet to protect us from the tick layer of mud and manure on the floor. After a good dinner of Beanfeast we settled down to another nights sleep, listening to the overnight rain on the tin roof above our heads.
The next morning was chilly, but clear skies meant that the day would soon warm up, so we rose early and began the walk down the valley to Torla - approximately a 6 hour trek.
We arrived In Torla and checked into the Hotel du Torla,
with a nice view over the town back towards the Canyon entrance. After settling into our room we visited one of the small supermarkets in town and bought some food, then had a good meal in the hotel restaurant before retiring for the night.
It was a spectacular day and we returned to Torla feeling exhausted and very satisfied from such a spectacular days hiking. We asked at the hotel about the weather for the next day as we had a long hike (7 hours according to the guidebook) over the mountains to the small town of Nerin the next day. The news we received wasn't the best...
We awoke to rain and low cloud, so after dressing appropriately,
we set off for what proved to be a long, tedious day of no views, rain, mist and relentless slopes.
Here we checked into a hostel for the night. Unfortunately, we were sharing a room with a very amorous German couple, who also had no shame... But, we did manage to get a good dinner and the rigours of the day allowed us both get a fairly good night's sleep.
The following morning we set off for a hike up the Valle de Anisclo, but first we passed through the deserted village of Sercue, which was a ramshackle and creepy experience...
From there, it was another amazing day of trekking up the Valle de Anisclo, with towering walls on either side, a fast flowing river below and some hairy sections on the pathway.
After a day of walking along the canyon, it began to open up mid afternoon and we got our first clear look at the weather ahead - low, thick and threatening clouds.
It was a bit of a scramble upwards and we were glad when we reached a spot called Fuen Blanca, with a hut, at approx 1770m. With the threat of heavy rain that night and the fact that we were soaked from the hike that day, it was welcome relief to change, spread our stuff out to dry and relax!
We were joined later that night by two others hikers - Rich and Dave - who just managed to fit inside the hut with us. That night the stormy weather hit and we all listened with trepidation to the rain lashing down outside and the roar of all the waterfalls growing louder with the increasing volume of water being dumped by the storm.
The next morning we rose, quickly packed and decided to head off into the rain, wary that the rainfall may have increased the streams to a size we would be unable to cross. Dave had been suffering with an upset stomach overnight, so he and Rich stayed back in the hut.
Conrad and I set off on our planned route, and quickly discovered the perils of trying to hike in the weather conditions the Pyrenees was throwing at us. All the rocks were wet slippy and very cold and, as we had through the night, we could hear the waterfalls getting stronger as the rain continued to pour.
A particularly hairy moment was the crossing we had to make of a flooded stream, just at the head of the waterfall it became as it rushed over a cliff edge - Conrad's face says it all! (This is the waterfall from the previous photograph).
To cross we had to take out backpacks off and after I jumped across first Conrad threw our backpacks over for me to catch - thank goodness we didn't drop them as it would have been a long and treacherous recovery effort!
The route led us past the Refugio de Goriz at the top end of the Ordesa Canyon,
and we stopped there for a rest. Upon talking to the hosts, we realised that the weather on the rest of the route (up through the Breche de Roland and down through the Cirque de Gavarnie) was too severe for us to continue. The hosts informed us that there was snow falling higher up and neither Conrad or I had the gear to trek in such conditions.
Even though it was a relatively short distance and one of the most spectacular sections of the walk we made the decision to stay the night in the refuge and then hike back down via the Ordesa Canyon back into Torla - and from there try to navigate a route back to Lourdes for our flight home.
So, we rested for the rest of the day and enjoyed the comforts of the refuge. Later that day Rich and Dave turned up,
and we spent most the evening enjoying a meal with them and playing cards, before we are turned in. The next day, after saying goodbye to Rich and Dave, was a fast walk down, back though the Ordesa Canyon.
Back in Torla where we caught a bus to the town of Sabinanigo, where, we were told, there was a train station and we could get transport back into France. When we arrived at the station the only map was one drawn in pen on a piece of paper hanging on the wall, which indicated that the line ended at a place called Canfranc.
Not having a good grasp of Spanish, we had to call my parents to get them to check if Canfranc was on the border with France, as we felt it would be possible to get a bus to Lourdes if it was. This my parents confirmed and also then took on the name of the Gifford Global Positioning System...
So, Conrad and I took the train to Canfranc and arrived at a huge, baroque station. The train terminated there as the tunnel through to France was considered unsafe due to activities by the Basque Separatists!
After a good meal in our hotel we gratefully dropped off to sleep.
The next day was the bus ride into Lourdes, through the mountains. The views were fantastic, and I regret not taking any photographs! We arrived in Lourdes and checked into a hotel before taking a wander around the streets and finding a restaurant for dinner, before our final night. Conrad decided to blend in with the locals...
The next day was another stormy looking day as we packed up and made our way to the airport for our flights back to Heathrow, where my parents picked us up and took us back home for a large and welcome dinner.
All in all, a fantastic weeks walking - and adapting! - and somewhere I would love to go back to as a more experienced hiker.
