The proud Basques, with their traditional beret and their unique, truly one-of-a-kind language.
And of course, typical for these southern latitudes: the odd snake.
All my belongings. How nice it is to travel so light.
Vultures eyeing potential prey.
Trying to figure out what could be dumped. Fellow hikers discussing the use of this and that.
Lamborghini began with tractors!
Real Life.
Traditional Basque grave markers — locally carved, regionally distinctive, and rooted in centuries-old symbolism.
The stoicism of cows in the face of the fly onslaught is extraordinary!
Saint-Jean-Pied-de-Port, where the east–west Pyrenean trails meet the north-south pilgrimage routes to Santiago de Compostela.
With a somewhat puzzling attitude towards hiking.
Fully commercialized.
Clergy in black — ever-present in this pilgrimage hub.
Basile — carrying all that weight and still always cheerful. Two stainless-steel bottles, a book the size of the New York phone directory, and several kilos of vacuum-packed bacon from home. I wonder if he ever made it to the Mediterranean.
Not everyone thought of bringing hiking poles (a must have) before setting off.
Ten steps through grass like this, and your shoes are as wet as after a river crossing.
Those aren’t mountain goats — just super cows.
The ultimate resource on the trail: water.
Petrified forest spirits?
“What’s he doing here?”
But mind the increasing dryness as you move toward the Mediterranean, especially with regards to drinking water.
Vilamaniscle, font de l'ou.
A simple livestock barrier — just ropes and dangling twigs, yet enough to stop cows on the GR10.
Note the improvisational talent.
Mountain users, you may encounter pack donkeys supplying the shepherds, as well as transhumant livestock herds. For your safety, move to the uphill side of the trail, or turn back until a suitable passing spot is possible. Stay calm and quiet so as not to startle the caravan you meet. Thank you for your understanding.
A reminder of how harsh mountain life can be.
Technically it said ‘no swimming’ — let alone skinny-dipping, but no one was around, and it was hot.
In the village of Gabas. A dreadful through-road — no wonder tourism struggles here.
A small chapel as a brief shelter.
A short lunch break with the few things I could buy at the village’s only open kiosk.
The Gourette ski area.
With the local must-haves.
And a strangely large number of empty shelves in the supermarket.
Salomon Speedcross: superb traction but they wear out a bit too quickly.
Looking back toward Gavarnie, and in the far distance: the Brèche du Roland.
Knowing how to be autonomous is knowing how to be free.
Local specialties seeking attention.
A traditional Pyrenean spit-cake baked over an open fire.
... using a rather strange-looking apparatus.
Luz-Saint-Sauveur.
Very dry. Very little water.
Grand Raid des Pyrénées runners heading down into the valley, and a die-hard mountain biker on the way up to the pass. The true spirit: no car shuttle, no e-bike — chapeau!
From days gone by
Maybe cows aren’t as stoic as I want to believe?
A rare fire salamander.
Bagnères-de-Luchon with its cable car.
Has seen better days in the past.
Missing sink stoppers are a constant annoyance when you want to soak dirty clothes for a while. A simple plastic bag does the trick.
And suddenly, in the middle of the forest — a flute player! Explaining how the sound changes with the shapes and sizes of the leaves above.
Once again, a victim of opening hours.
But this friendly village had a surprise instead: a table, a bench — and shade!
You can charge your phone in a church!
Siesta — a fellow hiker taking a rest.
A young shepherd with his dogs.
The village of Fos — and the only restaurant and shop had burned down.
And the only restaurant in Melles was closed too that day.
!! Free Hugs !! written on her bag pack.
Since 1977 ! — cars, motorbikes, and bikes prohibited.
Refuge de l’Étang d’Araing - and the prospect of a good meal.
Once again back to spaghetti and tomato sauce. Food on the trail is awful and will do you harm over an extended period of time.
Mayonnaise for lunch — long-lasting, plenty of calories.
Lentils and elbow noodles. Not exactly yummy.
Pumpernickel — the real deal.
A rare good meal.
A fresh French baguette — simple but pretty good. Add some butter and some cheese, and it turns awesome.
If it wasn’t Bigfoot, then it can only have been a brown bear.
WWII escape route over the Pyrenees.
In Esbintz things became quite special: founded — or rather squatted — by German hippies in the late ’60s, and brought to life again.
And, of course, I arrived on a Sunday afternoon and had to go back into town the next day to buy supplies.
A trail maintainer having a good time.
Hikers on an absolutely terrible day, taking a quick look into the hut and moving on. Having no time to sit it out is one of the ailments of our time.
Trails turning into rivulets.
Even the horses’ patience was stretched.
And in the hut: "The disaster isn’t what’s coming — it’s what’s already here. Waiting any longer is madness.”
The Ariège — endlessly forested mountain slopes.
This can’t be Catholic.
How the french are dealing with bears. (1) wait for the bear to move, (2) when it attacks, dodge and counter, (3) get on its back, (4) it can’t reach you with its short arms, (5) apply a rear chokehold, (6) when it passes out and falls, you’ve done it — (7) and now wake up from your fantasy and realize you died somewhere around step two.
Careless tent-drying. In the Pyrenees the wind comes suddenly and in strong gusts — anything not tied down will take off.
And in the next moment the inner tent ended up high in a nearby treetop, almost unreachable — well protected by thorny bushes. Only with a lot of luck, a stunt move, and the help of a day-tripper did I get it back.
Before.
And after.
A croissant and a cup of hot cocoa in the morning can make all the difference.
Take time to play: the secret of eternal youth – take time to read: the source of knowledge – take time to love and be loved: a grace of God – take time to make friends: the path to happiness – take time to laugh: the music of the soul – take time to think: the source of action – take time to give: life is too short to be selfish – take time to work: the price of success – take time to pray: your strength on earth – take time: life would be gentler if we all chose to adopt this.
In the land of wine.
The village Goulier.
Seeking shelter for a short warming break in a tiny hut that happened to be open.
At 2,100 m above sea level, mid-September, the targeted self-catering hut being locked, and a cold night on its way.
I tried to reduce heat loss in my airy tent using the emergency foil blanket (on top of the inner tent). Did not really work.
Maybe –5 °C, about a centimeter of ice on the puddle next to the tent. Cold, and just about manageable with my outfit.
No idea what this was good for.
Shelter if caught off guard by the weather.
A chamois, the master climber.
1,000 pounds or more of stoicism.
Like the Basques, the Catalans have a strong regional identity, their own language, and a push for independence - Viva Catalonia.
Another simple mountain shelter from bygone days.
Refugi de Talaixà - for a short break.
Hermitage of Sant Aniol de Aguja.
Holm Oak (Quercus ilex), lots, all over the place.
Ten years after roaming the GR11 — still there, still useful for the dusty hiker.
But this warning didn’t exist ten years ago.
Stone walls like this are really the defining architectural feature along the Pyrenees.
Cork Oak (Quercus suber).
And this guy already greeted me ten years ago, in La Vajol.
Viva Catalonia.
Mind the heat! Here in La Jonquera.
Outskirts of Cantallops - a repellent example of Spain’s massive industrial pig farming. 30+ million pigs, number one in Europe, number three worldwide behind China and the USA.
And the nightly screams of the desperate animals leave no doubt about what is happening behind those walls...
A retired German couple from Bavaria, after their night in their 4×4 off-roader, looking out toward the sea.
Dolmen de la Gutina, prehistoric stone tomb, 3500–3200 BC.
It’s a moving moment when, after weeks in the mountains, you finally glimpse the Mediterranean.
