Day 61: Col de l'Ouillat to Banyuls-sur-mer

Waking up before sunrise as excited as if it were Christmas for one last day of hiking and hoping to beat the storm that was due in the afternoon, packing up our bags and heading out into glorious views of the mountains still mantled in the clouds that slunk in last night, heading into sunny woods and up through a forest to a ridge which we went up and down and up and down repeatedly over the morning, the mountains lining up behind us like a goodbye salute, feeling so lucky for such a good last day but then dealing with the usual crappy stony paths that trip you and make you slide and being glad the end was almost in sight, meeting a friendly NZ couple who just set off from East to West (good luck!), persistent cloud due east that veiled the views of the Mediterranean until the last col when suddenly it appeared below in the blue haze, one last tiny frog, a huge furry caterpillar, a fly by raven and a hot and long descent that went up far too many times through aromatic herbs, cacti, vineyards and olive trees with Banyuls growing bigger all the time, finally arriving at sea level, passing a ceramic tile painting that celebrates the path, dipping our toes in the med, and checking into our hotel just as the first claps of thunder erupted and the storm to end all storms got started (an epic end to an epic journey ), sipping champagne and reflecting on our adventures... so it's goodbye GR10 - you were tricksy, sometimes a bit too steep, always full of surprises and ultimately a beautiful path through an awesome mountain range. Pyrénées forever!! And for this adventure at least... The End.

Day 60: Las Illas to Col de l'Ouillat.

Waking up in Colin the tent for probably the last time this trip, eating a huge chocolate marble cake for brekkie, getting immediately bamboozled by the GR10 which had apparently been rerouted since the guide was published (and definitely since the map got printed- we somehow got sold a version printed in 1993 so it is pretty obselete. good thing its only for a small section!), heading up forest tracks where sheep roamed in a confused lost sort of way, past allotments where pumpkins of all shapes and sizes were piled high, blue skies and sandy paths, scents of lavender, thyme and and unknown herb that smelt like men's aftershave filling the air, passing ruins and a huge fortress, arriving at Col de Perthus, a weird Spanish bordertown full of discount outlet shops, duty free emporiums and vast supermarkets selling ginormous bottles of cheap booze and finding a cute café that made omelette sandwiches, heading out under a huge autoroute into the afternoon sun where the air had turned heavy and sticky and butterflies whirled about in frantic pairs, trudging up dry trails and rocky paths as the mountains behind bathed in a haze of cloudy mist, a bull blocking the way, cows ushering a teeny tiny new calf who was all legs off the path, turning into a slightly cooler woods and finding first a single four leaf clover that had been nibbled into lace by a hungry insect and then a patch of at least 11 more and many five leaf clovers too, the path careering madly uphill through scrubby bushes and yellow flowers, turning around to discover a magical cloud sea had been busy rolling in behind and below us, filling the valleys back west with thick white waves and turning mountain peaks into impossible hazy islands in the sky, a last jaunt through a beech wood, then a sweet chestnut wood where the floor was crunchy with leaves and arriving at the col where we are staying at a gîte d'étape and have roasted all the chestnuts we've been busy gathering the last couple of days...

Day 59: Arles-sur-Tech to Las Illas

Today mostly involved getting inadvertently adopted by two animals: firstly by a campsite cat that followed us to our tent last night, charmed us, became a purring machine and then refused to leave no matter how many times we put her out. So it was a cosy night in Colin, in which the cat took up much of the foot room and totally ignored the meaning of a two man tent; secondly by a very friendly dog of ambiguous ownership who followed/led us out of town and onto the GR10 and refused all attempts to be parted from us for over 3 hours. We didn't encourage him at all and were really worried but he definitely knew where he was going and had no ID. Then we met a lady who owned the local gîte d'étape who recognised him and said lots of stray dogs in the area do the same thing with hikers. She tried to lead him back to town on a lead but he escaped and carried on with us so she told us to look out for a lady at the next col who could help – and sure enough we found her and she immediately started calling up friends to see if it was their dog (it wasn't) so she took him in to either return him to his owner if she could find them or to take him back to town and investigate further. He liked her a lot and we were happy that he had someone to look after him – definitely no space in Colin for a huge white dog no matter how friendly! Then there was a tiny frog, many many sweet chestnuts ripe for foraging, a convoy of hunters driving down the track with their bloodhounds and two dead deer in their truck which made me so sad and angry :( steep paths in the sad woods, wind rustling through the trees sending down golden confetti flake leaves as the forest glowed in the late afternoon light, good views of Canigou and rows of mountains fading into the hazy horizon, a perfect red spotty toadstool, conflicting feelings about being almost finished (I can't wait to reach the sea. I don't want the adventures to end), lots of careering down helterskelter hills, many cols and a march along a D road at the end as the light faded and we reached a free camping spot where an owl hooted and all the village dogs howled as we dined.

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The vital statistics:
Total hiking time: 10h 44
Peak: 1414m
Total ascent: 2025m
Total descent: 1772m

Day 58: Resting in Arles-sur-Tech

Having our minds made up about whether or not to have a rest day by booming crashes of thunder ricocheting around the mountains waking us before our alarms went off, rain pouring heavily for hours to confirm our decision, popping into town for a last batch of supplies, the sun coming out to dry our laundry (hooray!), and we're off to do our usual two nights in a row in the only restaurant in town after exploring the pretty old streets.

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! 

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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 56: Py to the Refuge des Cortalets

Setting off under blue skies and an autumnal wonderland, speeding up excellent hillpaths through a forest where a tiny leat ran parallel to the path, reaching a closed refuge and heading on through forest with views of mount Canigou who is already wearing his snowy winter coat at the peak, arriving at a river and meeting a lovely Polish lady who pointed out that the path crossed the river only there was no bridge or stepping stones and it was ten metres wide and quite deep so taking off our boots and wading across, the rain starting as soon as we parted ways with our new friend, turning to hail, the path getting wetter and leading us over bouldery avanlanche paths that the guide described as chaos (an apt choice of words), three isards leaping about majestically, a late lunch then absolutely storming up to one last col – our last jaunt over 2000m and thank goodness for that because it actually started snowing –, heading down past a lake to the refuge where we were "welcomed" by being put in the outhouse rather than the main bit with all the other hikers (really unsure why-official reason is because we are cooking our own food. Questionable reasoning) but actually it's better in here (albeit a bit reminiscent of Father Ted) because we have our own fire place and it is blazing. Only a few crappy photos for this update because my phone has decided to corrupt almost all the ones i took today (so many epic pics of snowy peaks, one of us taken together by the nice Polish woman and so many glorious autumn leaves. and such a cute tiny baby cow. booo hiss. Please imagine gloriousness and hope the phone gods fix things...)

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Glorious snowy Canigou

We stayed in the Refuge de Cortalets which was the worst experience of hospitality that we had along the GR10 - the gardien was downright rude, unprofessional and irresponsible. If you can avoid staying there, then I’d really advise it. 

The gardien claimed that we had to stay in the outhouse/prison because we wanted to cook with a gas cooker. This did not make sense. We could have cooked in the outhouse and stayed in the main building with everybody else. I don’t know about you, but for me the word “refuge” suggests a welcoming, friendly shelter from the elements, not a freezing cold outhouse, a rude “welcome” and basically being treated like a second-class citizen just because you’re not one of the gardien’s mates.

Anyway, all’s well that ends well… we lit a huge fire, feasted, eventually got some sleep huddled up in the weird dank building and the next day we were on our way. I hope never to return to refuge "prison"!
 

Refuge prison

The vital statistics:
Total hiking time: 9h21
Peak: 2269m
Total ascent: 1852m
Total descent: 730m