Why wander?

To wander: to ramble without a definite purpose or objective; roam, rove or stray

To wonder: to think or speculate curiously: to be filled with admiration, amazement, or awe; marvel

Before we set out on our hike across the Pyrénées, a lot of people asked us why we were going. 900km is a long way to walk, after all, and hiking through the wilderness for weeks on end is certainly not for everybody. The question always left me a little stumped: it was not very easy to put into words exactly why we decided to leave our lives behind and set out on what seemed like an impossible journey. We didn't actually have a particular objective for our hike, other than our vague plan to follow the GR10 (a trans-Pyreneen footpath, that starts at the Atlantic and finishes at the Mediterranean, traversing more than 850km of the Pyreneen mountains). It wasn't for charity, we certainly weren't the first people to ever do it and even in terms of our own sense of challenge, there was no race against time, or even any real obligation to actually make it all the way across – we had no idea before we started if we would actually make it that far. For me, the only answer I had to the question of why we were going wasn't really an answer at all, but a feeling. Having realised that the GR10 existed and that I could set off and spend a summer walking over those mountains, I couldn’t not go. Although I didn’t realise it at the time, this lack of definite purpose or objective meant that I wasn’t just setting off for a hike, I was going wandering.

The idea of not having a purpose or objective for two months or more is quite an unthinkable notion in our goal-driven culture. Time is money they say, so you had better be using your time purposefully. Every second counts. Achieve, achieve, achieve! This is all for good reason of course. After all, if you don’t have goals, how will you know what to do everyday? How will you know if you’ve accomplished anything with your days and weeks when you look back if you didn’t have a target in mind to begin with? Humans like objectives – they help us to measure our lives. And truthfully my own lack of purpose and the resultant sense of uncertainty was more than a little unsettling in the days and weeks before we set off. Indeed, I made a concerted effort to quash my sense of aimlessness before it had even began, formulating a detailed plan for the first week of our hike with daily mileage objectives and a definitive list of reservations at various places on the way. But then I fell ill on the day that we were supposed to set off, which delayed us by a day and rendered the whole plan useless. I had no choice but to embrace the aimlessness of the wanderer.

This was the first time I had ever actively been without a definite purpose or objective. And it turned out to be exactly what I needed. Sometimes, your mind needs a break from the endless pursuit of goals and objectives. I know mine did. In 2013 I completed a PhD after three and half years of long hard work and although I wouldn’t admit it at the time, not even to myself, it had led to almost total mental burnout. It is not uncommon for this to happen, nor is it surprising: after all, writing a thesis is not just about writing 90,000 words, its an ongoing game of mental ping-pong that involves managing countless mini projects – there are relentless deadlines, an unending list of articles and books to read, a huge amount of pressure to publish, and the overwhelming paranoia that at any time, you will discover that somebody else has already published almost exactly the same idea as you have spent the last three years obsessing over. So when I woke up one day and realised that all this was, in fact, behind me, I felt totally lost. I had achieved all the objectives required of a doctorate and I had the certificate to prove it, but what lay in front of me now was a bewildering series of choices, each one leading to new sets of goals and objectives. Pick a purpose, any purpose, pick a purpose now, my brain kept telling me. But I couldn’t. I felt stuck. The only thing that made sense to me was the feeling I had about the mountains – that I couldn’t not go. And so, off I went into the mountains, not really knowing why I was going or what was in store for me.

What I discovered as I roamed is that wandering is not just a state without definite purpose: it is a mode of being that is slow and contemplative. When you wander, there is time and space to really think. Or to not think: to let you thoughts fall by the wayside as your mind relaxes into the rhythm that your body drums out. And this is when we get to the wondering aspect of our hike. The truly remarkable thing about crossing a mountain range on foot is that you are constantly in a state of wonder. Every single thing you see inspires curiosity: it is impossible not to be filled with admiration, amazement, and awe at all that befalls you. Wild animals appear at the edge of your vision, rare and shy, yet curious. The sky turns colours that you’ve only seen in paintings or photographs and the light shines through clouds or treetops in such a way that the scene in front of you looks entirely unreal. There is an abundance of flowers in every colour, shape and fragrance, impossibly old fossils littering the path, views of craggy rocky mountains whose very presence seem to defy gravity and a whole other array of natural phenomena that cause you to stop and marvel every hundred metres or so. And that is just the world outside your head.

Wandering also begets the other kind of wondering, which is focused inwards on the self. I am certain that there really is no better way to achieve a meditative state than to climb a very steep mountain. Not because the breathtaking views will transform your thoughts into new age mantras and fill you with awe (although, as noted above, this may well be a nice side effect), but because the point of mediation – at least, as I understand it – is to clear your mind of all extraneous thoughts and to focus entirely on the present moment. Nothing will force you to do this more efficiently than climbing a rocky, steep, sweat-inducing path. Your attention to the present moment must be absolute: every deep breath you take to refill your lungs is purposeful, every footstep has to be carefully considered so as to minimise your chances of slipping or falling or twisting your ankle, whilst all the while maximising your efficiency as you push yourself onwards and upwards. You may well find yourself in a state of acute physical discomfort: your muscles and joints may ache, your lungs will burn, and sweat will form a steady stream down your face. The physical effort involved will ensure that all worries, cares and thoughts that are not directly related to the mountainside in front of you are utterly irrelevant and you will achieve a state of now-ness in which fears and worries melt away like the beads of sweat on your forehead. It might not feel like nirvana and it may not bring immediate enlightenment, but you cannot fail to notice that you are a living, breathing being when you climb a mountain. And when you have the time to really pay attention to that living, breathing being, you might be amazed at what you discover.

A funny thing happened to my thoughts as we wandered and wondered along. As the hours turned to days and the days turned to weeks, my lack of purpose was no longer a problem that needed to be resolved, but rather a liberating state of potential. The screaming voices in my head telling me that I had to decide what I was going to do with the rest of my life right now or else face certain doom began to quiet themselves as we went about the daily business of rambling along. I found a new perspective in my head that looked around, and looked at myself and was full of wonder. Uncertainty stopped being terrifying and instead became really rather marvellous. We usually didn’t know exactly where we would be sleeping that night, but that was okay: we were prepared for different eventualities, had studied the map and would find somewhere suitable to pitch the tent in due course. Every day unfurled differently, but the not-knowing what would happen meant that every moment contained the possibility of a wonderful surprise if only we were open to it. The very idea of progress was entirely unimportant – it was not about how many kilometres we had walked but the moments we had spent along the way; the deserted valleys that we had all to ourselves all as the sun sank in the sky, the kindness of strangers we had encountered and the wisdom they had shared with us. There was more meaning to be found in those mountains as we wandered, aimless and free, than in any other arbitrary goal I’ve ever achieved. I’ve never felt a stronger sense of being in the right place at the right time. And I began to trust in the process and to see the greater lesson that was being revealed to me. Wandering and wondering across the Pyrénées taught me, in a very real way, that it was okay to be without a definite objective and that a curious, open outlook is worth much much more than steadfast certainty.

Of course that is all very well when you’re off having adventures. The hardest part comes at the end – the questions begin again and its suddenly a lot harder to trust in the limitless potential of uncertainty. Honestly, I still have no definite answers or set objectives but I’m trying to remember that that is okay for now. All I can do is take little steps to wherever it is that I am going, try my hardest and enjoy the little moments of wonder along the way.

I'll finish with a quote by the great John Muir, a man who not only understood the value of wandering and wondering in his own life, but wrote passionately about it in the hopes of encouraging others to set aside time in their busy lives for aimlessness and speculation. He sums it up much more succinctly than I can. I urge you too to follow his advice; to follow your feet and see where they will take you. It might be the most important thing you ever do.

"Wander […] a whole summer, if you can. Thousands of […] wild blessings will search you and soak you as if you were a sponge, and the big days will go by uncounted. If you are business-tangled, and so burdened by duty that only weeks can be got out of the heavy-laden year ... give a month at least to this precious reserve. The time will not be taken from the sum of your life. Instead of shortening, it will indefinitely lengthen it and make you truly immortal."

John Muir - Our National Parks (1901), Chapter 1

Day 57: Refuge de Cortalets to Arles-sur-tech

 Leaving our prison outhouse (we realised as we left that it had prison bars on the window)/mountain "refuge" and setting off onto paths with spectacular views of the valleys below and snowy Canigou looking as awesome as a mountain ever has above, spending most of the day descending (2100m altogether) which, on the GR10 also means a lot of climbing because just like George Michael said "you gotta get up to get down", finding an old plane crash site where the wreckage has melded with the rockface, crossing many waterfalls and bouldery bits, a weirdo in a turtleneck following us for ages with a camera – no matter how slow or fast we went he was there right behind us like a freaky shadow –, the path switching between thoroughly reasonable underfoot to goblin paths of slippery rocky hell on and off all day, a kestrel hovering, choughs zooming by, a huge toad making me jump as he jumped, red leafy trees, another closed "refuge" where patou dogs literally surrounded us as we ate our lunch, a hippy telling us about a magical tipi around the corner but not having time to stop and investigate, the landscape changing dramatically over the day from wintry snow peaks to vivid damp multicoloured autumnal forests to Mediterraneanesque rocks of pale sandy colours, eggshell blue lichen, palest green shrubs, pink heath and pine trees, our knees and feet getting totally ruined by the incessant descent, a baffling amount of rain, a slap up dinner which was much needed as we have eaten all our food again and realising the end is in sight... but not yet here. We must march onwards! 

***

In Arles-sur-Tech we camped at the Camping du Riuferrer  which was very quiet – not that surprising given the fact that it was now October. There was a separate section for hikers in a little glade. The sanitaires were clean and the campsite peacefully situated near a river. It was about ten minutes walk into the small town of Arles.

In Arles we found another excellent local restaurant, Les Caves Mouragues where we feasted on huge homemade pizzas and treated ourselves to some well earned digestifs. If you are hiking the GR10 West to East I advise you to go and get yourselves a meal here. 

The vital statistics:
Total hiking time: 8h20
Peak: 2185m
Total ascent: 270m
Total descent: 2186m

Day 53: Lac des Bouillouses to the Cabane de l'Orri

Setting out over the barrage on the lake and into a Christmas tree pine forest, our boots making satisfying little crunch crunch crunch noises as we trod on frosty blades of grass, stepping occasionally on frozen puddles that cracked and shattered into crooked shards, good flat wide paths for stamping along at a good pace, a frog, a coal tit, a great tit, ski lifts and wooden chalets then down into flowery Bolquère where we finally found a good restaurant for omelettes, heading out on a warm sunny track past pretty meadows, rowan berries and rosehips galore again, through two more pretty villages, almost staying at the 2nd one but pressing on up into a lightfilled forest past another aggressive patou dog, 2 hunters with guns :( and down into a darker murky woodland with dodgy paths where the sound of some weird wailing creatures could be heard all around (we eventually worked out they were cows although they sound more like distressed hell beasts), past autumnal patchwork mountainsides down to a lovely spot by a river to camp and rest our tired selves after a long day and many kilometres. 

***

We were happy to start the day in the warmth of our hotel, making the most of the serve-yourself buffet breakfast before we set off into the frosty winter wonderland that awaited us outside. Much of the morning was spent in forest, before we reached another ugly ski station: this time, Pyrenees2000. Then it was down into the pretty little town of Bolquère, which, like so many of the small mountain towns that we passed through, promised more than it delivered in the way of civilization. The local shop was very much shut and despite the fact that a local auberge was open and serving food to many customers, it was not actually open unless you had already reserved a table. Luckily, we found a second option for lunch in the way of a hotel that also had a restaurant: the Hotel Lassus. The staff were incredibly friendly and welcoming and we had an excellent lunch of omelettes and fried potatoes. Luckily I noticed a note on the menu, proudly announcing that their potatoes are so fried in duck fat (!) and therefore not veggie friendly. Yuck. Anyway, I explained that we were vegetarian and asked if we could have boiled potatoes instead and after a look of deep confusion the waitress happily suggested that we could have potatoes fried in olive oil instead. A useful reminder that it is always worth checking these things and studying the menu carefully if you want to avoid inadvertent animal products slipping into your food.

On a side note, the two men with guns that we passed in the woods later in the afternoon were further proof that the hunting season had started in earnest. It's really rather unsettling to happen upon people with guns in the middle of nowhere.

The vital statistics:
Total hiking time (including our rather long lunch): 8h47
Peak: 1994m
Total ascent: 759m
Total descent: 944m

Day 52: Coma d'Anyell to Lac des Bouillouses

Last night the moon emerged from over the mountainside whilst we had our fire and it was so bright it lit the whole valley up like a magic silvery grey negative version of day; another parallel moon world. Today we woke up cosy in our new thermals despite the frost that had formed outside the tent, we set off up the valley all golden in the sunlight, with rocky peaks all around, and a wee murky lake, where vultures circled and rows of mountains stood in line on the horizon back west, reaching the Coll de Coma d'Anyell (2470m) and descending into a totally different landscape — orange grassy marshes, a huge dark grey lake and darker mountains beyond — reaching the bottom where we had lunch and the temperature dropped and up we went climbing a steep slope to the Portella de la Cerava (2426m) past pink granite mounds and the distant yip of marmots, down into yet another valley where the rocks were deep purply black and a plain stretched off into the distance, all golden grass and the deep green of pine trees, thunder clapping in the valley we had left behind and us marching onwards and downwards on pleasant paths past more hidden marmots, my ankle buckling and twisting, the path eventually turning and meeting the huge lac des Bouillouses which we walked along as rain started and turned to hail and the ground quickly saturated and the air filled with the scent of damp pine needles, reaching a huge refuge/hotel and getting a lovely snug room where I bashed my shin on the sharp bedpost (my right leg is now just one big painful bundle of silliness. I complain but its not serious) and we feasted and sheltered whilst the sky cleared and did pretty sunset things.

***

It was too cold and wet to pitch Colin the tent at the end of the day (plus we had entered a national park, so there were limitations about where exactly you can pitch a tent and we wouldn't have been able to have fire), so we checked ourselves into the hotel Bones Hores, a dramatic and historic building with amazing views over the lake. We sipped americanos in the cosy bar and feasted at the restaurant, happy to be inside, our bags and clothes drying off in the cosy warmth.

By the lake, right before the hailstorm

The vital statistics:
Total hiking time: 5h45
Peak: 2468m
Total ascent: 661m
Total descent: 732m

Day 51: Ax-les-thermes to Coma d'Anyell

Heading back to Merens-les-Vals on the train after a double pastry breakfast, getting back on the GR10 on steep forest paths weighed down by our heaviest bags yet as we have SO much food (the longer we keep walking, the hungrier we get. 30 chocolate bars didn't seem like an unreasonable amount), cobbly paths up through a forest, discovering a natural thermal source where people have built little rock pools so you can have a totally natural thermal bath in the middle of the woods - my swimsuit was hanging to dry on the outside of my bag from yesterday so i changed quickly and jumped in to soak for a few minutes in the hot sulpher water- pure magic, devouring our first hardboiled eggs of the hike after we finally found an energy efficient method of cooking them, finding 3 four leaved clovers at once, emerging into a beautiful valley where a river was flowing and the faded remains of wildfire flowers were glowing apricot and red in the bright sunshine amidst rosehip bushes and rowan trees fit to burst with berries, autumn foliage all aglow and a coal tit fluttering about, climbing a steep bit of path to find a turquoise lake perched on the mountainside where marmots could be heard yipping and vultures circled overhead, another steep climb over boulders to the Porteille des Bésines where a spectacular panoramic view of where we'd been and where we were going opened up - high rocky mountains, pine forests, wiggly streams below, all the colours vibrant in the warm afternoon sun, heading down past a refuge and another glistening lake, negotiating confusing balissage, taking an old bit of path where the lines had been rubbed out and ending up on boulders again but quickly navigating out and down to another epic valley with a perfect pitch for the tent, a readymade fire pit and a stream to wash in, cooking dinner while the sky glowed flurescent flamingo shades and Gavin lighting his most epic fire yet as the moon peaked out from behind the mountain... today was a very good day in the mountains ♡

***

The natural thermal source outside Merens-les-Vals was my favourite thermal spa experience of the whole hike. It is magical - tiny pools of hot thermal water that have collected in pools that local mountain pixies have built out of rocks. I almost walked on by without getting in but I knew I would regret it if I didn't have a dip. It was so enchanting to be sat in such a warm pool in the middle of a forest glade in September. I noticed some wax drips on the side of the pool - people must head up in the dark and light candles and have the most amazing evenings chilling out in the warm water. I want to return someday and do just that...

my firestarter

The vital statistics:
Total hiking time: 6h14
Peak: 2333m
Total ascent: 1483m
Total descent: 436m

Day 48: Inclès to la Vallée du Montiguillou

Waking up tired after a cold, wet and windy night, heading uphill to amazing views of Andorra, all yellow golds, reds and pine forests and epic mountain scenery, two hoppy frogs and then at long last seeing some marmots again, hopping over sunny rocks, yipping and showing us the way to the Refuge de Juclar, discovering the revelation that is omelette sandwiches (sooo tasty!), walking past the glistening Étanys de Juclar where the rocks had lines of quartz glistening through them and heading up to two cols which we passed over admiring a last glimpse of beautiful Andorra before descending back into France on the GR Transfrontalier where the path turned into piles of boulders that we spent the next 4+ hours clambering over, swearing and getting scraped, there were more beautiful étangs with a grey and red bird fluttering about like a treecreeper only on rocks, before we turned into the horrendous valley of Montiguillou where the boulders became bigger and even less enjoyable (!), finally reaching a flat space overlooking a lake and pitching the tent, watching the moonlight make the rockface glow as we ate dinner.

***

Adorable Andorran marmot

Andorra is so beautiful

Vital statistics:
Total hiking time: 8h51
Peak: 2521m
Total ascent: 784m
Total descent: 895m

Day 45: Auzat to Col de Sasc.

One of our most exhausting but ultimately rewarding days in a while. Setting off slightly late but getting the last baguette and plenty of cheese in the shop, climbing more than 700m up before lunch, then heading straight down the other side back to the altitude we started at, then climbing up again for hours, firstly through horrible unacceptably steep goblin tunnels (no view, just dank awful climbing), collecting all the colours of autumn leaves to cheer myself up and making leaf pictures in the village of Gesties, an old terraced village perched high up on the mountain, still more climbing for us, to a col then emerging out onto golden grassy plains dotted with pinky purple crocuses and when we turned around the mountains were basking in the late sunshine, glowing brighter and stretching further back as the golden hour came and we climbed higher, powering up to 1904m and bursting into happy tears at the top from the sheer overwhelmingness of it all, heading down to another col where Fabien, a friendly shepherd insisted we had an apero with him and his 3 friendly dogs and showed us the way to an unmanned cabin where we have planted our tent and made fire for cooking potatoes. And then sunset came and the whole horizon glowed and glistened and turned pink and orange and golden. Ascending more than 2300m in a day is worth it for all this.

***

The vital statistics:
Total time hiking: 7h54
Peak: 1904m
Total ascent: 2361m
Total descent: 1323m

Day 44: L'Etang de Bassiès to Auzat

Letting the sun warm us and dry the tent before we emerged into the day, thousands of tiny crystal rainbows shimmering as the breeze blew through sunny dew drops on the long grass, the lakes below bathing in misty clouds, huge banks of soft pink heather spilling out between the giant silver boulders and soft yellow grass, dark green pine trees lined up like a Christmas tree parade, clouds dancing around distant peaks as I wandered and pondered it all trying to imprint the colours and light onto my mind's eye to keep forever and always, stumbling down dusty stone paths, leaving the GR10 and its weird North-South ways to go East, chasing speckled woods and red admirals and other pretties, a stupid bee flying into Gavin's boot and stinging his leg, a pretty floral village where Gavin had a close encounter with a kingfisher that flew off before I could spy it, wagtails wagging, dippers dipping, so many pumpkin patches, a peaceful campsite with a friendly dog, an absolutely amazing bottle of wine and dinner in the village which included a cheese course where the waitress just brought out half a huge cheese and let me slice as much I wanted... 

***

The GR10 does weird things in the Arriège region: it has several confusing branches; it spends entire days taking you North and South rather than head East; it leads you through several ghost towns. After waking up to our tent freezing (again) we wanted to make some sort of progress before winter arrived, so we opted out of a huge North-South loop and followed a local path instead. This led us to a town called Auzat, where we set up camp in a very quiet campsite, Camping La Vernière and went out for a lovely meal in a restaurant in the village: La Tabled'Arconac. It had an entirely meaty menu and The restaurant were a little hesitant when it came to veggie options, but we managed to negotiate a rather tasty salad (I think it involved requesting that it came without ham, and the waitress offered to replace it with cheese or eggs). The noteworthy thing was the cheese course tho. Seriously, this is what I was presented with….

So good.

The vital statistics:
Total hiking time: 5h17
Peak: 1638m
Total ascent: 75m
Total descent: 984m

Day 43: Aulus-les-bains to l'Etang de Bassiès

A slow start drying off our kit after a rainy rest day and night, eating our usual entire cake for breakfast, heavy bags full of supplies, heading out of town on a road where a huge furry caterpillar wiggled, walking up forest paths at a surprisingly reasonable gradient, arriving a col where a berger herded his sheep whilst we picnic-ed, a man carrying a tiny lamb in his arms, a huge green cricket, views of tree-covered mountains showing just a tinge of autumnal colours, a rowan tree covered in bright red berries, walking up long pleasant zig zags to another col where we could briefly see amazing views east and west before the cloud closed in, carrying on up to a port where the path got rocky and steep, going down to a misty lake and bright orangy red marshy grasslands and boulders that made for clumsy walking, and over to another epic valley that sat just below the cloud full of lakes, wiggly streams and mules who greeted us as we walked to the refuge, setting up Colin the tent in the long grass and Gavin cooking a delicious meal out in the mizzly cloud while I got cosy. 

***

We popped into the Refuge Bassiès which is near the lake and bought some wine - we sipped some inside and took the rest away in a spare plastic bottle. Most refuges are perfectly happy to sell hikers wine in this way - it can be nice to sip a little tipple with a camping-stove-cooked meal, especially when the weather is awful like it was on this evening. There was a bivouac area right next to the refuge but you had to pay so we opted to wander along a bit and find our own spot. This whole valley was incredibly beautiful - especially with its early autumn coat on and the atmospheric mist as we descended from up high.

The vital statistics:
Total hiking time: 6h54
Peak: 1920m
Total ascent: 1301m
Total descent: 393m

Day 42: Resting in Aulus-les-bains

Sleeping, eating and thermal spa-ing. Ahhh spa towns how I love you so 

***

The thermal spa in Aulus-les-bains is a great way to relax and recover from long days spent hiking. You can pay to have access to the jacuzzi and hammam - just check the website carefully as there are different opening hours on different days of the week.

Day 41: St-Lizier to Aulus-les-bains

Waking up to the horrendous sounds of a jay screeching bloody murder right outside our tent (these birds do NOT know how to sing), going back to sleep when it flew off and thus oversleeping, eating huge amounts of cake for brekkie then setting off into the wind - the weirdest wind we've ever known - it whipped around, changing direction, singling out single trees at a time then died right down, luckily we were sheltered in a typical goblin path straight up the valley for much of the morning, then there was a col covered in cows, then more wind so strong that we diverted off the GR10 to the more sheltered ski slopes on the other side of the mountain, descending down a long rocky path along one side of a valley, over a ridiculous broken bridge, then right back all the way along the other side of the valley, getting blown over by a ridiculous gust of wind, then reaching shelter again in the woods where three mad frogs hopped into Gavin's legs. We ignored the GR10's suggestion to spend three more hours pointlessly walking along another valley and back and headed straight for the lovely thermal spa town of Aulus-les-bains. Guess what my plans are for tomorrow?!

***

The campsite, Le Coulédous in Aulus les bains was excellent and still rather busy in mid-September – perhaps because of the thermal spa in the town. We had a nice quiet pitch – albeit covered in conkers! The sanitaires are very clean and the campsite is conveniently located 5 minutes walk from the town where there are a couple of shops (excellent for buying food supplies), restaurants and the spa.

Despite the fact that there are a few restaurants in Aulus-les-bains, only one of them was open mid-September: La Grange de l’Agouadis. Luckily, one was enough – we ate there both nights that we stayedin Aulus-les-bain, sampling their pizza and their goats cheese salad. Both nights the food was excellent – the pizza was such a generous size that we couldn’t manage to finish even with our hiking appetites, but the owner happily packaged it up for us. Very friendly service and great veggie options!

The vital statistics:
Total hiking time: 6h
Peak: 1725m
Total ascent: 1382m
Total descent: 1376m

Day 40: Rouze to St-Lizier

 

Lingering in paradise with a jug of coffee and fresh eggs from the farm, sore heads from slightly over-indulging in boozy Rouze but luckily it was just a short hike today to the next valley, past the farm's goats who were climbing trees to get at the leaves, up unexpectedly steep foresty paths, stopping for a moment and getting surrounded by cute kittens who were very interested in Gavin's bag, a nuthatch chirping, emerging to a col with panoramic views, heading back down the other side, a small snake on the path watching us with beady eyes, and arriving in a pretty campsite where two friendly robins fluttered around us as we pitched the tent.

***

The campsite in Saint-Lizier had an excellent shop in it – perfect for buying more hiking supplies! It was an excellent campsite with great, flat grassy pitches, clean sanitaires and even a big room that hikers can use in inclement weather for preparing food/sheltering.

The vital statistics:
Total time hiking: 3h21
Peak: 1551m
Total ascent: 598m
Total descent: 793m

Day 39: Artigue valley to Rouze (Tom Bombardil's farm)

Waking up to rain and cloud covering the views of last night, spending the day in a cloud getting slowly but thoroughly drenched by mizzle (up up through a forest, over moor, lunch in a berger's hut then down past a lake, down a track with no views but who knows we could have been anywhere), a pond full of tadpoles, emerging out of the cloud and the first person we saw in 24 hours was a lorry driver with an 80s mullet who saw us but carried on taking off his trousers anyway (?), 2 vultures perched on a heathery mound, flowery villages, a mean growling patou dog who led us to his sheep rather than away, a field of mules and donkeys, gobliny passages, and then arriving at THE MOST AMAZING place ever - a gîte d'étape farm run by the friendliest man ever where we found everything we could ever need like a pick your own veg farm, freshly laid eggs, goat cheese galore, a kitchen for cooking, a cosy room with a fireplace, freshly picked flowers, booze and so much homely comfort joy we didn't know what to do:)

***

On our way to Rouze we found the floweriest section of the GR10 :)

The gîte d'étape in Rouze was honestly one of the most amazing places that we stayed in for the whole hike.

We had had a long and tiring few days and the actual day that we hiked here was incredibly wet and tough-going. Our boots were saturated, there were absolutely no views, just cloud and mist. The path was fairly steep all day long and at some point I think we just sort of gave up on the idea that we would ever find somewhere to pitch the tent. So when we found the gîte and stepped inside and realised that we could stay in the warmth instead, it was such a relief. We weren't keen at all on sleeping in dorms but nobody else was there so it was just like staying in a house of our own! The gîte is part of a farm – there is a fromagerie selling homemade cheeses and a huge vegetable patch that you can pick your own veg from. The whole thing is run by one of the friendliest men we have ever met - his whole face was a smile and he exuded a calm, zen energy as he welcomed us. Inside there is a big shelf that is a serve-yourself shop selling food supplies and a fridge full of beer and wine that you can buy. It is run on an honesty system – so you note down what you have taken and leave the money in a box by the door. There were so many useful supplies (all very reasonably priced) so we bought rather a lot of stuff! You can cook in the cosy little kitchen and there was a big table with freshly picked flowers where you could eat. We bought cheese, freshly baked bread and eggs from the farm, picked our own courgettes and cooked up a feast. We had the whole beautiful place to ourselves so after glorious hot showers, we put on some music, lit a giant fire and basically had ourselves a happy little party of joy. The whole place reminded us of the part in The Lord of the Rings where the hobbits end up at Tom Bombadil’s farm – a happy little haven of goodness, where we totally over-indulged in booze and never wanted to leave! 

The beautiful fresh flowers on the table in the Gite d'étape

The vital statistics:
Total hiking time: 7h28
Peak: 1998m
Total ascent: 1211m
Total descent: 1293m

Day 38: Cabane de Luzurs to Ruisseau d'Artigue

Waking up early in our cosy cabin to the sound of ravens cawing as the sky glowed orange in the east, walking to another unmanned cabin for lunch, meeting a friendly berger and his two exuberant dogs, heading down a very steep and overgrown path through the woods where the moss grew thick and coated all the tree branches like too much tinsel on a Christmas tree, a steep new track being dug out by diggers, rejoining the GR10 proper, another long foresty path along a river, playing with pebbles, spindly mushrooms popping up everywhere, a red squirrel, waterfalls galore on sheer rock walls, tired achy bodies, emerging to grassy plains, amazing mountain views and a river to bathe in, planting our tent on a bed of happy yellow tormentil flowers and scoffing an early dinner. It's half 7 and I'm waiting for it to get dark so I can sleeeeep

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The vital statistics:
Total time hiking: 7h37
Peak: 1605m
Total ascent: 641m
Total descent: 968m

Day 37: Sentein to the cabane de Luzurs

 A peaceful morning in our deserted campsite, another stomp along a d-road, this time blasting out some Led Zeppelin to motivate our tired legs, flowery villages, turning back onto the GR10 (E branch), vertical forest paths that eventually got flatter, nostalgic pink flowery aromas filling the air, a sizeable wedge of brebis for lunch and bounties for snacking, an aquaduct/leat flowing alongside us for a while like a mini canal, a stupid electric fence blocking the path, arriving at the étang de Bethmale where we wanted to camp to find it chockablock with fishing people (a shock after not seeing a soul all day) so carrying on up through a steep forest, over a col onto the GR10 (D branch) past unreal skies and into another forest that was so thick with cloud it was prematurely dark, finding an unmanned shepherd’s cabin and settling in by the fireplace while rain drums down on the tin roof...

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La Cabane de Luzurs

The vital statistics:
Total time hiking: 7h36
Peak: 1414m
Total ascent: 1128m
Total descent: 437m

Day 35: Melles to l'Etang d'Araing

 

Waking up to rain, the sun coming out as we walked along a long and winding road, a screeching woodpecker, a creepy doll perched on the garden wall of the only house we'd seen for miles, tough steep forest paths, buttery noooodles for lunch by a waterfall, the biggest frog we've seen in a while, emerging from the forest to rewarding views due west back where we've been, the landscape changing to high mountain plateaus of golden grass and boggy marshes, vultures overhead, 4 isards/deer leaping about down below, a kestrel hovering about, finally cresting a col and heading down to a lakeside refuge for a 3 course feast with friendly fellow ramblers before pitching our tent.

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Beautiful views on the path up to the Etang d'Araing

After realising that we couldn’t restock or find anywhere to stay in Fos the previous day we were a bit worried about supplies running out and where we would camp. I called up the refuge http://www.refuge-araing.fr/ at the Etang d’Araing because I had heard that some refuges in the Arriege area will sell hikers supplies. The gardien said that as it was nearing the end of the season, he couldn’t sell us supplies but that we were welcome to eat there. So we booked ourselves in for dinner and breakfast and also ordered a sandwich for the next day. Up to this point we had only eaten in refuges for lunch when you can usually just turn up and buy omelettes and sandwiches. Evening meals are a bit different – you have to reserve and you don’t get a choice of what you eat as one meal is prepared for everybody that is staying. It is even more imperative to call ahead if you are veggie as this will involve them preparing a separate dish. The meal at the refuge Araing was really tasty – 3 courses including veggie soup, an omelette and ratatouille and homemade mint chocolate cake. It was an interesting experience to eat dinner at the refuge as it meant we met other hikers that were staying there and to got to hear about their adventures. It was very convivial with everybody sitting around one table and serving each other the food. We got top tips from hikers coming in the other direction about potential resupply sources and must-see places. And then afterwards we got to wander back out under the stars to our tent for a peaceful nights sleep by a beautiful blue lake.

Altogether dinner, breakfast and lunch and showers for two people came to just over 60 euros (pitching the tent outside the refuge was free) so it wasn’t cheap but it was a bit of a change from our usual cooking routine and the gardien gave us some useful advice about where we were going next… 

The vital statistics:
Total time hiking: 6h32
Peak: 2185m
Total ascent: 1477m
Total descent: 257m

Day 34: Forest by cabane d'Artigue to Melles

Sleepy forest mornings, paths that went up instead of down but then zigzagged peacefully under pine trees for an hour, arriving in Fos, the village that promised much (a shop, a restaurant, a campsite, a bakers, a hotel) and delivered nothing but an eery deserted gîte d'étape where we spent a weird hour waiting; nobody came except a Belgium hiker who was equally confused so we left money for the coffee we had made and continued on to the flowery village of Melle in the sunshine and found an amazing auberge with friendly owners who fed us very well and gave us local bivouacing secrets courtesy of their collie

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The vital statistics: 
Time spent hiking: 5h30 
Peak: 1293m  
Total ascent: 314m 
Total descent: 862m

Day 33: Bagnères-de-Luchon to a forest just past the cabane d'Artigue

Eating brekkie in the sunshine, strolling along a river watching gliders get launched by tiny planes at an airfield, the steep uphill starting and lasting for hours (ascending 1998m overall and descending 1288m = a tough day for breaking in new boots), pretty villages, butterflies, an entire loaf of bread's worth of cheese sarnies for lunch, tired legs as the hills carried on going up, kamikaze crickets and grasshoppers constantly diving under our feet, views over Spain and epic mountains all around, our 4th snake slithering away, some peaks on the Spanish border and confusing balissage, a herd of tinkling goats, silent gliders overhead, finally heading downhill (ouch!), an isard leaping about on a sheer rockface, two friendly Collies - one got Gavin to throw him a stick, foresty paths and finally some flat ground to pitch our tent. We ate 3 twix, 2 lion bars and 2 snickers as snacks today and still managed to devour a huge serving of noodles for dinner - hiking is hungry work!  

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Views of Spain

The vital statistics: 
Total hiking time: 10h06 
Peak: 2174m 
Total ascent: 1998m 
Total descent: 1288m

Day 31: Lac de Saussat to Bagnères-de-Luchon

 

Waking up super cosy in our tent, marmots yipping outside, Gavin opening the door to reveal perfect mirrored reflections of the lake and the first frost (we were camping above 2000m), coffee then 2nd coffees at the refuge, back to the Gr10, views of the Lac d'Oô from above before the cloud swirled in, climbing up and over a horquette then down again and up again over a col, the temperature rising and falling repeatedly requiring many costume changes, finally some glimpses of nature after days of rain, flurries of black butterflies, flocks of choughs screeching overhead, a solitary raven, vultures and dung beetles galore, crumbly cheese sarnies with views of Spanish mountains, another depressing ski station (Super Bagnères), a weirdo man trying to stroke a cow and the cow not being at all impressed, descending gently through a beautiful forest, a shy deer bounding off, the rooftops of Luchon coming into view, and a peaceful campsite with a field almost entirely of our own to rest in tomorrow and a late night visit from a hedgehog who snuffled around outside our tent.

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In Bagnères-de-Luchon we stayed in a lovely little campsite that is about ten minutes walk from the centre of town and very conveniently located if you intend to visit the Thermal spa (and you should!): Camping des Thermes They have a special separate field for tents that is set back from the rest of the campsite where the camping cars are parked. It’s peaceful and secluded and a great place to stay for a rest day. The sanitaires were tip-top and the woman who ran the campsite was very helpful when it came to using the laundry facilities.



The vital statistics: 
Time 7h51 
Peak: 2279m 
Total ascent: 679m  
Total descent: 1955m