Travel Report - The Pyrenees

Clareboy

Some years ago, after spending a few days in Lourdes, my wife and I decided to rent a car and explore the Pyrenees, the great mountain range between France and Spain.

On to Spain

That morning, we were down at Lourdes bus stop at 08.30 in order to catch a local bus to Lourdes/Tarbes Airport, where I had booked a hired car for 4 days. Public transport around The Pyrenees is rather limited so we decided that that car hire was my only option if we wanted to see a lot of the area. I prefer to hire a car at an airport rather than at a downtown location because it is easier to exit from an airport as the roads around airports tend to be wide and well signposted. I hired the car from Europcar at a cost of €160 for the 4 days. They gave us a brand new Toyota Aygo. My route for the day was to join the A64 autoroute and drive east and then south into Spain and to the village of Noales, where we had arranged to stay for 4 at Casa Petro in the village of Denuy.
As l drove out of the airport and in the direction of the A64, police were turning back traffic because of an accident and I had to continue on into the suburbs of Tarbes. Eventually, I reached the A64, which is the main motorway or autoroute along the French side of the Pyrenees. Motorways in France have tolls and one gets a ticket driving onto the motorway. There are frequent rest areas or ‘Aires’ on French motorways which have toilets of the ‘squat’ variety, picnic tables, drinking water, outdoor showers, playgrounds and in the larger ones, restaurants. I must have been on the motorway for about an hour and a half and the charge was a modest €3. I got used to driving on the right hand side of the road quickly enough, but having to change the gear with my right hand took a bit of getting used to. I found that I needed to be careful on the narrower unlined roads as it was easier to drift over to the left hand side on the smaller roads.
After leaving the auto route, we continued south along the N125 in the direction of the Spanish frontier. I stopped to explore the typical French Pyrenean village of Saint Beat, which is built on the River Garonne. The village is surrounded on every side by solid rock faces and the flower bedecked balconies of the houses hang out over the river. There is an ancient Romanesque church and a ruined castle to explore. A few kilometres from Saint Beat, we crossed the frontier into Spain. There is a police presence at the frontier, but no checkpoint. It was exciting to be back again in Spain and heading for the High Sierras!



As we drove south into Spain, the weather grew more cloudy and there were some rain showers. We entered a district called ‘Val d’Aran, which is characterised by villages of large stone built houses of three stories with very steep roofs and wooden flower bedecked balconies. We stopped in the villages of Arros and Aubert to explore the hilly cobblestoned streets and to photograph the local architecture. I was now travelling south along the N230 towards the town of Vielha. Beyond Vielha, the mountain scenery became really spectacular as I was now about to travel through the central and highest section of the Pyrenees, which is dominated by Aneto (3404m). Then came the awesome Vielha Tunnel, which at 5 kilometres long is the longest road tunnel in the Pyrenees. The original tunnel was built in 1948 by General Franco using Republican prisoners as slave labour. The modern tunnel has 3 lanes of traffic, 2 going south where there is an incline and 1 going north. It is truly an amazing piece of engineering. Looking at the snow covered mountains, the forested valleys and the large stone houses of the villages, this area seemed a million miles from the kind of image that most people have of Spain. It was more of an alpine environment than the typical southern European scenery that one would expect in Spain.
At around 6 PM, we arrived at Casa Petro in Denuy, which is situated off the N260 near Laspaules. Denuy is a small farming community with a population of about 40 and is in the province of Huesca in Aragon. Our host Juan, who is a pipe-smoking Belgian and his Spanish wife Dolores gave us a very warm welcome. Juan speaks fairly good English, but Dolores speaks Spanish only. We were given a lovely room with a balcony overlooking the village and the surrounding mountains.



Val de Boí

On Tuesday, July 1st, we set out to explore the magnificent valley - Val de Boí (valley of the ox), which is in nearby Catalonia. Each morning, Juan would kindly draw a map for me, showing the roads that I should take and the places that we should visit. It was brilliant sunny morning as we drove east along the N260 to join the N230. I drove south along the N230 for a few kilometres before turning left into the Val de Boí, which is an UNESCO Word Heritage Site because of its superb mountain scenery and its architecture. The area is crammed with primitive Romanesque churches dating from the 11th and 12th centuries. The churches have never been rebuilt or modernised and therefore represent a unique architectural legacy. All were constructed with astonishing detail and elegance from hand split chunks of local stone, roofed by slates and graced by tall belfries. The interiors of the churches are stark and simple with little ornamentation.
Our first stop was at the village of Barruerra, where we visited the Romanesque church. The belfries of all the churches in the valley are climbable, thus providing magnificent views of the surrounding area. We were now in Catalonia, where the Catalan language takes precedence over Castilian Spanish in all signage.
Our next stop was at the quaint village of Erill La Vall, which is dominated by a 12th century church with an unusual arcaded porch and a 6 story belfry. The village is situated on a cul de sac road, so it is delightfully quiet and traffic free. Cars are actually banned from the centre of the village. As with the other villages in the Val de Boí, the buildings are of local stone and wood and the cobbled streets are adorned by hollowed out logs filled with flowers. The antique double lanterns along the streets must create a magical atmosphere after dark. Erill La Vall has an interpretive centre which gives visitors an overview of the valley’s ecclesiastical heritage.
From Erill La Vall, we drove north and then took a right turn to the village of Boí, the most atmospheric settlement in the valley. A tiny fortified gateway leads into the medieval core huddled around a crag. To walk through the stepped and tunnel like streets of Boí is like going back in time to the Middle Ages. We made a short stop in Taϋll and from there continued up a winding mountain road to the ski station of Boí/Taϋll, which is of course closed at this time of year.
We returned again to the main road through the Val de Boí and continued on the Caldes de Boí, a small settlement which marks the end of civilisation as we know it. All around Caldes de Boí, there are fountains of all kinds as well as waterfalls both natural and manmade as well as thundering mountain torrents. Pathways lead through wooded parkland and some extraordinary water features surprise and delight the visitor at every turn. “Is all this beauty just a dream?”. I feel that I have dreamt of such beauty and that I am now actually seeing it. Later that afternoon, we made our way back to our guesthouse after a wonderful day exploring the Val de Boí, one of the most beautiful places that I have ever visited.



Benasque and the Maladeta Natural Park

The following day ( Wednesday July 2nd), we were on the road again, this time driving west along the N260 to the small town of Castejon de Sos and from there northward towards Benasque. As we stopped at a lay-by to admire a scenic view, I observed that one of my rear tyres was looking a bit flat. I decided to change the tyre at that stage, which was hard work in the blistering mid-day sun. While I was at work, a lady drove up in a National Park jeep and started to speak to me in French. She must have presumed that we were French because of the fact that I was driving a French registered car. I said to her in Spanish – “ hablo ingles y un poco Español” – I speak English and a little Spanish. In Spanish, she told me that she was searching for a goat! We felt more at home on the Spanish side of the Pyrenees as I can speak some Spanish and can communicate with the local people, whereas in France, I tend to be a bit more ‘ tongue tied’. After changing the wheel on my car, I drove into the nearby town of Benasque, where I went into the tourist office to find out where was the nearest ‘taller’ or garage. The girl in the tourist office kindly showed me on a map the location of the local ‘taller’. After getting my spare wheel repaired, we headed back into Benasque to have some lunch as we needed it at this stage. We sat at a pavement cafe and ordered a very English dish – sausage, egg and chips! After lunch, we wandered around the old part of Benasque. The town is a focal point for visitors to the nearby Maladeta Natural Park. Everything in Benasque revolves around the great outdoors, evident from the number of people walking around with rucksacks and climbing gear. I was impressed by the use of stone and wood in the new buildings and the use of traditional hand carved wooden signage.
That afternoon we continued on into the Maladeta Natural Park through some really breathtaking scenery. The road was blasted out of solid rock as it snaked its way through the mountains. At one point, there were waterfalls actually crashing down onto the road itself – a free car wash! At another location, the road actually passed under a waterfall and through another tunnel. There were also numerous snow sheds covering the road at different points as a precaution against avalanches and rock falls. As we contemplated such majestic beauty, it occurred to me that no words could really describe what I was seeing. Indeed, no photograph could adequately capture the awesome mountain scenery of the Pyrenees. What are words? – just sounds, and what is a photograph? - just an electronic image. I must have stopped my car every 5 minutes along this road as there was something new and interesting around every bend. Further on, we came across a scene that looked straight out of the Wild West – a vast herd of cattle being driven across a valley by men assisted by some really vicious looking dogs. All the cattle had large cow bells hanging from their necks, so that the whole valley resounded with the sound of the bells. In the middle if all this primeval wilderness and bellowing cattle – a luxury hotel, El Hospital de Benasque – Hospederia. There has been a pilgrims hospice in this place since the 12th century and the present establishment doubles as a hostel and a 3 star hotel. It is obviously an ideal base for trekking in the mountains. We had a look around the hotel and marvelled at the splendid wood carvings to be seen both around the perimeter of the hotel and inside in the public areas.
Returning again in the direction of Benasque, I took a very steep and winding road with numerous hairpin bends to the village of Cerler, which at an 1540 metres is the highest village in Aragon. Beyond the village, I took the high road to Cerler Ski Station, which is at an altitude of about 2000 metres or 6,000 feet above sea level and very near the snow line. I don’t think that I have ever travelled to such a height by road before. The ski station was of course closed at that time of year with only a some maintenance guys present, so it was a like a ‘ ghost town. That evening, it rained heavily as we drove back to Denuy.



Happy Birthday!



As today (July 2nd) is my birthday, Juan and Dolores very kindly served up a special surprise dinner to celebrate the occasion. They also invited some Belgian friends of theirs from a nearby village to join us. Dolores prepared a lovely meal which consisted of onion soup, roast pig, with strawberries and cream for dessert and of course plenty of the local vino! To finish off the evening we had Irish Coffee – made with Scotch Whiskey! – for the toast. It was very thoughtful of our hosts to remember my birthday, which they had noted from my passport.
During the early hours of the morning, at around 2AM, we were awoken by what I thought were the sound of distant drums – sounds like an old 60s hit! The drumming grew louder and louder until it reached a deafening pitch. We then realised that we were in the middle of one of those Pyrenean thunder storms that I had read about. The thunder sounded like artillery fire and the lightning lit up our room and indeed the whole village. The house was shaken by violent winds and I hurriedly secured the windows and closed the shutters in our room. The howling of the village dogs was drowned out by the deafening claps of thunder. Torrential rain followed and the storm eventually abated after about an hour and a half. It was the most spectacular thunderstorm that I have experienced. Certainly, my 2008 birthday was certainly a memorable one!



Roda de Isabena & Ainsa

The following morning was warm and sunny after the heavy rain and thunder storm of the night before. The road near Denuy leading down to the N260 was partially blocked by stones and mud that had been washed down from the hills during the night and I was just about able to get through. We drove eastwards along the N260 and then southwards along the A1605 in the direction of Graus. The road made its way through a tortured landscape of deep gorges and fractured craggy mountains. There were a lot of rocks on the road that had been washed down during the storm, so great care was needed. The Spanish Pyrenees is a beautiful part of the world, but when the raw fury of nature is unleashed, it can be a dangerous and savage place. As I made my way slowly southwards through a series of tunnels, the landscape changed from the green forested foothills of the Pyrenees to the barren, parched and unforgiving landscape more typical of Spain.
In a country where picturesque medieval hilltop villages are ten a penny, the village of Roda de Isabena stands out as particularly well worth a visit. Roda de Isabena on its lofty hilltop situation is visible for miles around and its only access to the outside world is via a narrow winding road that snakes its way up the steep incline. Traffic is banned from the village centre and drivers are directed to a car park just below the ramparts. Access to Roda is through a fortified gateway that leads to a small multi-level plaza mayor (main square) that is dominated by a superb Romanesque cathedral, the oldest and smallest cathedral in Spain. We relaxed with a café con leche (white coffee) in a shady corner of the plaza mayor before starting our exploration of Roda. The cathedral was originally built as a monastery and the domestic buildings are now part of the Hospedaría de Roda, a 3 star hotel. One could actually spend the night in such historic and atmospheric surroundings. Admission to the cathedral is only by guided tour. The tour is delivered in Spanish only, but a guide leaflet in English is available. Unfortunately, photography is forbidden inside the cathedral and is only allowed in the cloister. The cathedral of Roda de Isabena is a treasure trove of medieval art and religious artefacts including a gilded casket containing the remains of Saint Raymond. After visiting the cathedral, we wandered along the quaint narrow streets of Roda, each one of which ends at the edge of a cliff and offers panoramic views of the surrounding dusty valleys and barren mountains. I noticed that many of the village houses had small vegetable gardens and also hens and other domestic fowl.
From Roda de Isabena, we continued along the A1605, stopping at Capella in order to explore a typical Spanish village. Beside the road near Capella is a tiny Romanesque church and adjoining cemetery. I was always fascinated by the custom in Spain of burying the dead in rows of shelves rather than the ground burials that is the norm in Ireland. The coffin is placed in the shelf and then bricked in and cemented over. Details of the deceased are then inscribed on a marble plaque which is protected by a locked glass door. We also stopped at a very pleasant river side amenity area where one can admire an outstanding example of a medieval bridge. The was also a shady picnic and barbeque area as well as a public swimming pool and a kiosk selling ice cream and cold drinks. Just the place to hang out for a while in the sweltering midday sun! To give an example of how hot is was that day; I left a pair of sun glasses on the dashboard of my car for a short while we went for a ramble, and they were partially melted when I returned!
From Capella, we continued on to Graus and into the hills to the remote village of Panillo, which as well as the usual attractions of church and castle, lists as one of its places of interest – a Buddhist Temple. Panillo is the headquarters of Buddhism in Spain and we were intrigued by the idea of finding such a place in the depths of rural Spain. The temple complex is approached through a very colourful gateway and an avenue of miniature stupas with inscriptions in some strange script. It was our first time in a Buddhist monastery and what really struck me about the complex was the use of very bright colours. The main temple was closed for the afternoon siesta, but we were able to visit the stupa, where an image of Buddha himself is venerated. Visitors to the temple and stupa must do so in silence and sin zapatos – without shoes. Rows of gilded prayer wheels and multi-coloured flags and banners are also a feature of this peaceful complex. Buddhists generally seem to prefer remote rural locations for their monasteries rather than towns or cities.
After Panillo, our next stop was at Torreciudad, a dramatically situated sanctuary that overlooks a series of reservoirs. There is a medieval sanctuary that is perched on a crag jutting into the lake and a magnificent new sanctuary that was constructed in the 1970s. The new sanctuary is built of red brick and is considered an outstanding example of modern architecture. From Torreciudad, I drove northwards towards Ainsa passing some extensive reservoirs on my right.
On arrival in Ainsa, we headed for the casco antiguo – the old quarter which is situated on a hill above the busier new quarter. Cars are banned from the old quarter and visitors must use a car park and explore on foot. After passing through some impressive fortifications, I arrived in the vast arcaded Plaza Mayor (main square), one of the finest in all of Spain. I spent about an hour exploring the exceedingly attractive streets and stone walkways that make up the old quarter of Ainsa. The town is the very epitome of old Spain.
From Ainsa, I followed a fine straight section of the N260 to Campo. After that the road entered a dark forbidding canyon that seemed to go on forever. The road was just sliced through the rock, with towering cliffs on both sides and a fast flowing river in the middle. The canyon was so narrow that very little light entered and there was nowhere to stop and no sign of civilisation except the occasional passing vehicle. It was the most frightening and claustrophobic roadway that we had ever travelled and I was glad when the road finally emerged out into the evening sunlight. We passed through Castejon de Sos on our way back to Denuy for our last night in the Spanish Pyrenees.



Homeward Bound

The following morning, Friday July 4th, we said farewell to our wonderful hosts Juan and Dolores. Staying with such a friendly and hospitable couple really made our trip. My programme for today was to return my car to Europcar at Lourdes/Tarbes Airport and to catch a train from Tarbes to Bayonne and from there on to Biarritz. I departed from Denuy at around 8AM and I followed the N230 northwards to France. I then took the N125, which brought me onto the A64 auto route to Tarbes. I only made one short stop on route in order to buy petrol as I had to return the car before 11 AM. I reached Lourdes/Trabes Airport at 10.45 and returned my rented car.
We caught a local bus from the airport to Tarbes at 11.30. The bus left us off near the railway station in Tarbes. Ou est la Gare? – Where is the station? – Voila la Gare! We entered Tarbes Railway Station at 11.55 to find that there was a train for Bayonne at 11.57. We had just enough time to purchase a ticket and climb on board. What a stroke of good luck! It was our first time travelling on French Railways – SNCF. I found the carriages to be very comfortable with air conditioning which was good as it was an exceptionally hot day. The ticket from Tarbes to Bayonne cost €22 and the journey took about 2 hours. We arrived in Bayonne at 14.00.
From Gare de Bayonne, We caught a city bus to Biarritz airport. Bayonne and Biarritz are practically the same place, Bayonne being the older and more historic city and Biarritz being the fashionable seaside resort. I had booked into the Premier Classe Hotel near Biarritz Airport for one night. On arrival at Biarritz Airport, I enquired at the information desk as to where the Premier Classe Hotel was situated. The lady kindly showed me on map where it was located and luckily it was just a 10 minute walk from the airport. Premier Classe Hotels are basically a chain of American style motels that are situated near main highways all over France. The name might mean ‘first class’ but ‘first class’ they are not! The reception did not open until 17.00, so as it was only around 15.00, I had no choice but to use the automatic reception, which is a machine where you insert your credit card. It charges your card and dispenses a receipt and a room card. It must be the ultimate soulless motel. One can check in and leave without meeting another human being! The room was fairly basic, but it did have an en-suite shower. It had a large double bed with another single bunk bed overhead. The cost for the night was €40, very good value. The main attraction for us was the proximity of the Premier Classe Hotel to the airport as we had an early departure the following morning.
After settling in to my motel room, we decided to take a city bus back to Bayonne in order to explore the old quarter of the city. I found it very easy to use the city buses in the Biarritz/Bayonne area as at each bus stop there is a timetable as well as a map of the whole system and also a map of each individual bus route. A basic fare of €1.20 applies regardless of distance travelled.
Bayonne is the main city and transport hub of the Basque Coast region of south western France. The most prominent feature of Bayonne is the impressive bridge over the River Adour, which displays the flags of the nations of the world. The presence of ‘Katie Daly’s’ Irish Pub gives the city an air of cosmopolitan sophistication. I took a stroll around the narrow pedestrian streets of the old quarter of Bayonne. Many of the old building are half timbered and are painted in bright colours, typical of Basque architecture. The old quarter is dominated by the cathedral, which is in the typical French Gothic style. There are also some lovely parks in Bayonne with elaborate flower displays and fountains.
Later, we caught a bus to the neighbouring city of Biarritz. As we were so near to such a famous place, we had to have a quick look around. Biarritz is the Atlantic coast’s answer to Monte Carlo and thus a resort that expects a little refinement from its guests – Blackpool it certainly isn’t – chic and trendy, absolutely! The architecture along the seafront is a hotchpotch of giant ocean liner style hotels and mock-Gothic chateau which bears a bygone air that appeals to the middle classes. Biarritz was once the most fashionable resort in France and it was frequented by the crowned heads of Europe not to mention film stars and the glitterati. We spent about an hour strolling along the sea front and watching the pounding Atlantic waves and the beach scene. There were quite a number of people on the beach and it was the best place to be on such a hot sweltering afternoon.
The Premier Classe Hotel did not have a restaurant, but the nearby Campanile Hotel was serving dinner. We ordered a steak with all the trimmings and a desert and tea – all for just €9 each – outstanding value! The only complaint I had was that the waiter brought me hot milk for my tea! Its a hard life!
The following morning (Saturday July 5th), we flew out from Biarritz Airport on Ryanair at 9.50 arriving in Birmingham at 10. 50. We had a 4 hour stopover in Birmingham and we took a bus into the city centre in order to pass the time. Birmingham reminded me of Manchester only scruffier and more run down – what a contrast after the sophistication and elegance of city life in France. The only slight inconvenience in stopping over in the UK is having to draw out some sterling to pay for meals or bus fares. At 15.10, we were on another Ryanair flight to Dublin.
As we flew back to Ireland on my 8th Ryanair flight so far this year, I reflected on how travel has changed since I first ventured to continental Europe in the 1970s. Back then, one went down to a local travel agent and signed up for 2 weeks in Torremolinos or some such place whether one really wanted to be there or not. Nowadays, with the Internet and low fare airlines such as Ryanair, the traveller can flit around Europe for the price of a bus fare. Thanks to that crazy guy Michael O’ Leary (CEO Ryanair), thousands of curious and adventurous people are travelling around Europe to all kinds of places that the tour operators and the other airlines never go to. I must admit that I never heard of the city of Pau in France until recently.
We arrived in Dublin Airport at 16.20 after the short flight from Birmingham. From Dublin Airport, we caught the Airlink bus to the Bus Arus (Central Bus Station) just in time for the last bus to Ennis, which departed at 17.30. WE arrived home at around 22.00.
Our 4 day trip around the French and Spanish Pyrenees was very enjoyable and certainly I will never forget the spectacular mountain scenery, the attractive towns and the kind and helpful people that we met on our travels.