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.
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...
