France for Walkers - Pyrenean Adventure

The Pyrénées lie along France’s southernmost horizon like a slumbering dragon—craggy, imposing and mysterious. As a mountain range they are surely Europe’s most dramatic and their landscape of splendour has captivated writers, artists and naturalists for generations.

When we moved to France five years ago my wife and I chose an old farmhouse on a hilltop overlooking much of the Pyrenean chain in all its snow-capped magnificence. Ever since, their allure has been constant. Reading Hilaire Belloc’s The Pyrenees and pouring over tales of Pyrenean adventures by Victorian pioneers like Charles Packe and Henry Russell only added to the magnetism of the mountains. I decided the one way to respond to such seduction was to walk their entire length from the Atlantic Ocean to the Mediterranean Sea. After months of planning I set off from Hendaye’s famous surfing beach along the legendary GR10, not really knowing what to expect other than 900 kilometres of tough walking and more than 165,000 feet of climb and descent. What I discovered along my seven-week odyssey is far more than can be described in a magazine article, but hopefully I can sufficiently whet your appetite to make you want to wander into Belloc’s “high hills” to sample their tranquil peace and heart-stopping visual delights.

Unlike the Alps, the Pyrénées only reveal their wilderness wonderland to walkers—they conceal their real beauty from motorists. You have to climb the cols between one valley and the next to unveil views of the dramatic pics, étangs and lacs that remain hidden from valley roads. Remarkably, each of the 50 consecutive days of walking brought completely different landscapes; no two days were remotely the same. Yet there was one constant—each morning involved a climb, each afternoon had its reciprocal descent.

So cut off from each other are some of the valley systems that, not only does the weather change as you walk from one to another, so does the language. Naturally the lingua franca is French, but you will also hear Basque, Occitan, regional patois and Catalan. The diversity of cultures and indigenous architecture is noticeable too as you walk from west to east. In the summer months, wild herbs abound and mountain meadows are a botanist’s delight. There are entire valleys of wild box, hillsides smothered in azaleas, blue gentians that richly punctuate the lush summer pastures and delicate orchids that can only be found in the Pyrénées.

Pyrenean wildlife is abundant and spectacular. Isards, those shy and nimble cousins of the alpine chamois can be seen in profusion in the central Pyrénées, but always at a distance. Marmots that look like a cross between a giant guinea pig and a beaver are usually heard but rarely seen. They post a guard to scour the sky for predators. The lookout’s shrill whistle could stop a football match, and you hear it all the time between the Béarn and the Ariège. If you hear their warning whistle, sit quietly with binoculars trained on their south-facing grassy slope and you will soon see these creatures.

There are bigger animals to look out for; while walking between Germ and lac d’Oô I was stopped in my tracks by a dozen or more magnificently antlered deer that leapt in a long line right in front of me, bounding up a steep slope to the cover of woodland. And although I didn’t see one, there are wild bears in the Pyrénées. While sitting by the side of a track near Melles the silence was shattered by a barking roar from the woods. I have no idea what it was but like to think it was a bear. Just in case it was, I moved on quickly rather than risk that wonderful Shakespearian stage direction, “Exit, pursued by a bear”.

The bird life is equally impressive and during a short sojourn in the central Pyrénées you should spot griffon vultures, Egyptian vultures, lammergeyers, golden eagles, short-toed eagles and even ospreys.

The clarity of light and purity of atmosphere in the high Pyrénées defy description. So pure is the mountain air that while camping on a plateau at more than 6,000 feet I spent two midnight hours gazing in disbelief at the most star-studded sky I have ever seen. It was so wondrous it brought tears to my eyes and only the arrival of a score of boars forced me to zip myself back into the tent.

East of Hendaye

The GR10 immediately turns its back on the Bay of Biscay and heads gently from Hendaye’s busy beach through peaceful suburbs. The red and white waymarks (balisage) quickly lead you up to the col d’Osin through lush green woodland and into the Pyrenean foothills via pretty villages like Ainhoa.

This is Basque country at its most beautiful—an undulating land of rich pastures, gorgeous half-timbered houses, village frontons and red berets. All the signs are in French and Euskara, the Basque language where all words represent impressive scores at Scrabble.

Sadly, on my first night I was all too able to identify with Hilaire Belloc’s Tarantella in which he wrote:

“Do you remember an Inn?

And the tedding and spreading

Of the straw for a bedding,

And the fleas that tease in the High Pyrenees

And the wine that tasted of tar?”

Well the wine was okay, but I woke on day two after a night at an Olhette inn, covered in flea bites—for ten days it looked as if I had measles! On the plus side, I met two lovely people on that first day, Richard and Gaye, originally from Devon, but now living near Sauveterre. As regular walkers along parts of the GR10 they were able to give plenty of helpful advice on how to cope with the difficulties that can be met along the way. Meeting interesting people became an unexpected bonus of walking the GR10. There’s a certain esprit de corps among mountain trekkers and the tedious mores of getting to know one another are instantly bypassed once you discover you’re both undertaking France’s classic long distance walk. Most fellow walkers I met were French and all had entertaining tales to tell. In the early stages there were people like Michel and his wife Anne whose son had just graduated from an English university. Marc, a Parisian with only one eye (and seemingly only one T-shirt!) was an ox of a man who climbed effortlessly and led me to the top of the Pic d’Iparla where we gazed at close range on a colony of vultures.

Another young Parisian was the diminutive Jérome, a second dan black belt at ju-jitsu, who I walked with for ten days and who acted as a steady pacemaker for so many tough climbs. Over the 50 days I met dozens of fascinating walkers of all ages from differing backgrounds and I know that some will remain friends for life.

The first eight days of the trail takes walkers across the Nive Valley, past the spiky peak of La Rhune, through the ancient town of Saint-Jean-Pied-de-Port and over the col de Bagargiak to Sainte-Engrace—a place known to early readers of FRANCE Magazine thanks to some red shutters that were the subject of our first Treasure Hunt back in 1992. Those that remember will be pleased to hear the red shutters are still there, along with their Orangina advertising slogan!

For the two days either side of Sainte-Engrace I was joined by my son Alex and brother-in-law Charles who came to experience at first hand a couple of ‘average’ days along the GR10 trail. In the little village auberge we were serenaded with folk songs from locals in an adjacent room as we dined around a crowded refectory table swapping stories with other walkers in French and English. The locals were practising for the next day’s big event, the pastorale—a traditional play that retells the legend of Sainte-Hélène—involving most of the village on stage in front of a crowd of 3,000.

We had to leave before the event started, to climb the remarkable Arpidia ravine. In dense, damp, jungle conditions we climbed relentlessly for what seemed like hours. It was like something out of an Indiana Jones film. Afterwards my son confided that it was the toughest thing he’d ever done and the thought that his dear old Dad was doing 50 such days only confirmed that Dad was mad!

Into the High Pyrénées

Beyond Sainte-Engrace the trail traverses north of the pic d’Anie, crosses a limestone plateau and dips down to the Aspe valley. Here, almost totally surrounded by a coronet of craggy peaks, is the pretty village of Lescun, a higgledy-piggledy collection of ancient stone houses set in an intricate patchwork of lush green pastures. Once witness to a ferocious battle it is now the epitome of Pyrenean pastoral tranquillity and despite its glorious location seemed almost devoid of tourists at the height of summer.

The trail from the twin villages of Borce and Etsaut provides one of the most dramatic days on the GR10 as it takes in the remarkable Chemin de la mâture. A long, raking gouge out of sheer rock, the Chemin de la mâture could have been made by a giant scraping his finger nail along the cliff. It was hewn by hand 250 years ago so that mules could haul the arrow-straight tree trunks that grow from the near-vertical walls of Hell’s Gorge. The hitherto inaccessible trees were used as masts by Louis XIV’s naval fleet. Today the GR10 trail uses this narrow groove of rock to reach the col d’Ayous. It is quite safe, but not recommended for vertigo sufferers.

Beyond the col d’Ayous the landscape changes yet again. Suddenly there are lakes. Reflected in the mirror-flat waters of the lac d’Ayous is the jagged pic du Midi d’Ossau, one of the most memorable vistas of the 50-day trek.

There are some brutal climbs and fierce descents to reach the Ossau valley and the ski resort of Gourette before the trail eventually drops down to Cauterets—a spa town for more than a 1,000 years. Patrick, a near neighbour, had joined me and at Cauterets we sampled the sulphurous waters of the hydro centre to ease our aching muscles. Both agreed it was the best 19€ we had ever spent. There is a string of spa towns along the French side of the Pyrénées and during the trek I took the waters at almost half of them.

Cauterets to Luchon

The GR10 trail continues its habitual pattern of climbs from, and descents to, small towns and villages all the way to Bagnères-de-Luchon. With its fortified church and maze of narrow alleyways, Luz-Saint-Sauveur is one of several delightful staging posts between the spa towns of Cauterets and Luchon, as the locals call it. The road from Luz-Saint-Sauveur to Barèges and beyond is popular with cyclists as it climbs the col de Tourmalet, a regular mountain stage for the Tour de France. The GR10 takes a much steeper series of tracks before arriving at the one-street town of Barèges. An old hospital behind the spa centre has been converted into a gîte d’étape. With its wide stairways, airy dormitories, communal dining room and all pervading smell of disinfectant battling against the malodorous boots of dozens of walkers, it is redolent of many a British public school.

Gîtes d’étape and mountain refuges add an intriguing dimension to walking the GR10. Each is different; all offer basic sleeping accommodation and most provide evening meals and breakfast. Their wardens are equally different. A surly soul at Logibar contrasted hugely with the obliging guardian at the refuge des Bésines. Jean Hourticq at the refuge Jeandel and a Brian Blessed look-alike who ran the Chalet Hôtel at lac de l’Oule were engaging, funny and friendly, making their stopovers places to which you would want to return. Many of the refuges are in such stunning locations that I shall certainly return to them. The Chalet de l’Albère with its balcony overlooking Canigou and the Auberge de Batère with commanding views over Spanish border country can even be reached by car. So too can the gîtes d’étape at Mérens-les-Vals—worth a return visit for the beautiful wooden interior—and at Aunac, meriting a return for the friendly welcome of owners, François and Claudine.

After Barèges the GR10 reaches its highest point at 8,250 feet. To celebrate, Patrick and I and another near neighbour Angus, who joined me three times along the route to take photographs, opened a small but excellent bottle of Bordeaux. It was also to honour the memory of an eccentric Pyrenean pioneer, Henry Russell, who had a habit of opening fine clarets on the tops of these peaks. Apparently he only drank from fine crystal glasses. We had to make do with plastic cups.

Luchon, reached after one of the steepest descents on the entire trail, is a busy spa town and the last supply point before the wilds of the Ariège. I walked alone for 18 days in the central Pyrénées, camping in the high mountains for four nights and staying in remote refuges and isolated gîtes for the remainder. At night the camaraderie around the dinner table gladdened the heart, but the solitude of a long spell immersed in Nature’s glories revealed another side to the long-distance walk—the opportunity to be introspective. In some ways the GR10 trail was not just a trek from Hendaye to Banyuls, it became a journey into the soul.

The walk from Luchon to Fos is the toughest of the whole trail, taking in a long steady climb to the Spanish border before dropping down into the Garonne valley to the dismal village of Fos. This was once a wealthy border crossing with pavements of polished marble. Today, Fos has been ruined by the busy road that slices it in two.

DENSE FORESTS

On the descent towards Fos I did see a bear. Not an animal, but a giant pillar of rock which, when glimpsed from the cabane de l’Artigue was as convincing a likeness as any of the Presidents carved into Mount Rushmore.

The trail from Fos weaves through dense forests, passes the étang d’Araing, and descends through a long-abandoned mining area to Eylie-d’en-Haut before crossing the pas de la Core and eventually dropping into Aunac. Nearby is the busy village of Seix, the first re-supply point in six days. To the south stands Mont Valier and the GR10 flirts with its skirts between Aunac and the charming gîte at Rouze. The meal at the end of that day’s walk was one of the best on the entire trek. From Rouze the trail passes through Saint-Lizier-d’Ustou, the spa town of Aulus-les-Bains and the pretty villages of Goulier, Siguer and Lercoul before climbing into wild mountain country again close to the Andorran border.

After Mérens-les-Vals walkers can ease their aching muscles by bathing in hot, sulphurous rock pools just alongside the GR10. One pool is 40C, the other 38C, both are recommended for easing rheumatism and, of course, they are free. After high mountain days around pic d’Auriol and the Carlit massif interspersed with the lakes of Bésines, Lanos and Bouillouses, one suddenly senses the closeness of the Mediterranean.

At Planès with its bijou church, I was joined by my son-in-law for three days and rejoined by Patrick for the final nine-day walk to the sea. Along the way to Canigou, that mystical Catalan mountain, we teamed up with Angus again and my brother Tony, who first came up with the idea of launching FRANCE Magazine. Three British walkers and two Germans then swelled our ranks and, finally, some old friends who live near the Spanish border joined in—we were a team of 11 for the final descent.

MIXED EMOTIONS

Beyond Canigou the Mediterranean was constantly beckoning and the walk down through vineyards to Banyuls was filled with mixed emotions. There were regrets that such an exhilarating adventure was coming to an end, there was joy at the thought of rejoining my family and relief that I had been able to trick my body into completing something it was not really capable of.

The hordes of late summer sun worshippers sprawled across the pebbled beach at Banyuls must have wondered what on earth was happening as I strode between them to breach a finishing tape held along the shore by a welcoming committee. The obligatory wade into the Mediterranean was followed by the popping of champagne corks and celebrations that went on well into the night.

Walking the GR10 has been the adventure of a lifetime, my middle-aged equivalent of a gap year, and undoubtedly a life-changing experience. The notion of tackling it in 50 consecutive days was probably unrealistic and had it not been for the support of family and friends along the way as well as an overdose of determination I could never have achieved it.

The Pyrénées are accessible to walkers of all fitness levels. Whether you walk the GR10 trail for a day, a week, a month or all 50 days you will find these spectacular mountains inspirational, breathtakingly beautiful and, for the main part, deserted. To be immersed in their secluded valleys surrounded by seldom-climbed summits and to sit on the shore of unspoilt lakes is a rich experience to be savoured.

These mountains will make you gasp at their splendour, marvel at their emptiness and sigh at the unadulterated beauty found in their midst. Naturally there is a physical challenge involved, but the rewards are great. Pull on your walking boots and root out your rucksack. Climb the dragon’s back and, like me, you’ll find the magnetism of these majestic mountains will make you want to return to them again and again.

How to Get There

Road access: Almost every day of the walk crosses public roads so with the use of a good map (see below) the GR10 can be accessed relatively easily at any point.

Air: Low-cost flights have made the Pyrénées easily and affordably accessible. Ryanair (www.ryanair.com) fly to Biarritz, Pau, Carcassonne and Perpignan. Flights to Toulouse are available via British Airways (www.ba.com), Easyjet (www.easyjet.com), bmi (www.flybmi.com) and bmibaby (www.bmibaby.com). Perpignan is also serviced by bmibaby and Flybe (www.flybe.com)

Rail links: Hendaye and Banyuls-sur-Mer at opposite ends of the GR10 are linked to the mainline French rail system. Other towns along the route accessible by rail are: Bidarray, St-Jean-Pied-de-Port, Bagnères-de-Luchon, Mérens-les-Vals, Bolquère and La Cabanasse.

Best Maps

The Michelin Road Atlas of France shows the GR10, but by far the best maps for detailed access information are the IGN Carte de Randonnée series (1:50,000). For walking the route, the IGN 1:25,000 series is indispensible.

Where to Stay

For most overnight stops on the route there are gîtes d’étape. These provide basic accommodation, usually in dormitories, where you will need a sleeping bag. Most also provide a demi-pension evening meal/breakfast. Expect to pay around 35€ per night for dinner, bed and breakfast in a gîte d’étape. Small towns along the route have a choice of hotels, as do some of the ski resorts like Gourette. There are four or five nights in the Ariège where there is no suitable accommodation, so it is necessary to carry a tent, camping stove and extra food and water. A guide to accommodation in the Pyrénées, Guide des Hébergements en Montagne—Pyrénées, (ISBN 2-915069-01-8) is published in French only by Cité 4, Pic Pyrénées Innovation, 65150 St-Laurent-de-Neste. Email: contact@cite4.com

Regional Food and drink

The GR10 passes through several distinctly different regions of France and the diversity of local cuisine and wines is quite noticeable. Look out for the following regional specialities:

Garbure: Hearty vegetable soup served throughout the year.

Gâteau Basque: A deep-crust open tart made with pastry cream filling flavoured with almonds or apricots.

Morue à la Bayonnaise: Cod simmered in white wine and tossed in olive oil, then layered with mashed potatoes.

Axoa d’Espelette: Casserole of veal with spicy local peppers.

Chiperons: Basque dish of cuttlefish cooked with peppers and tomatoes.

Pâté aux anchois de Collioure: A rich anchovy paste often served as an apéritif.

Botifarra: White Pyrenean sausage

Ouillade: Stew-like soup of beans, pork and vegetables.

Boles de Picolat: Spicy meatballs cooked with green olives and white beans.

There is a kaleidoscopic range of wines made along the north slopes of the Pyrénées. These range from sweet red wines from Banyuls and the delicately sweet Pacherenc du Vic-Bilh, through the sparkling Blanquette de Limoux to crisp whites from Jurançon and smooth reds from Irouleguy.

The mountain pastures are summer grazing for sheep and cattle and the mountain cheeses are so good they rarely find their way to cheese shops abroad. Search out brebis (ewes’ milk cheese) from the Ossau valley and Matocq, a cow’s-milk cheese from the Basque country.

Recommended Reading

The GR10 Trail by Paul Lucia; published by Cicerone

The Pyrenees by Marc Dubin; published by Rough Guides

The Pyrenees by Hilaire Belloc; published by Methuen (long out of print but findable in second-hand bookshops)

Walking in France

The French have long had a love affair with long-distance walks. In 1947 a national committee was formed to create grandes randonnées (long-distance paths) throughout France. That committee became the Fédération Française de Randonnée Pédestre in 1978 and today there are 180,000km of waymarked footpaths and millions of walkers take advantage of them each year.

The GR10 was begun in 1964 with the idea of bringing the mountains within reach of everyone. It had long been a dream of many enthusiasts to create a footpath through the mythical Pyrenean mountains that joined the ocean to the sea, but it was not until 1975 that the route was completed.