The Basque country (close to the Atlantic) is often veiled in clouds.
Another bunker, out of hundreds of thousands in Europe alone. Where would mankind be if all the effort, sweat, pain, resources and ingenuity that went into wars had been put to use elsewhere? Would we be commuting to Mars? Wipe out diseases in no time?
Breakfast on the go.
The number of horses seen was stunning.
A spider's web brimful with morning dew. Which means wet shoes after less than 10 steps.
On a sunny day you'll never wander alone.
Horses are smart animals - in comparison to cows. Here seeking shade at a busy tourist hub.
This sheep was ailing but the ram stayed by her side and nudged her supportively.
Vultures sailing in the upwinds.
Probably a shepherd's (emergency?) shelter.
Lescun.
A hiking comrade with an ultra-light outfit. I really wonder how he managed to make it through this handful of serious thunderstorms.
Local art.
Because of the heat during the day it is advisable to start early in the morning.
Water is always on one's mind. You either find it or drag it along. Or suffer.
From gushing quantities...
...to a sparse trickle.
Most of the times locked.
Seldomly accessible.
A shelter from bygone days.
It was raining cats and dogs and cold. Just about enough shelter for the stove.
Horses at the edge of a cliff. Where the up winds cools and keeps the flies away. As I said: smart animals.
The Great Pyrenean Mountain Dog. Raised among sheep, believing he is one of them, a sheep.
Not the slightest bit afraid. Note the blueberries.
Gavarnie was an absolute nightmare in terms of the number of people.
Cirque de Gavarnie from a distance.
The plague of the Pyrenees are the many bells around the neck of most domesticated animals. Cowbells are apt to drive you crazy during the night. Earplugs are a must have.
Food is the other constant on one's mind (besides water). Rarely so sumptuous and delicious.
The ever present quest for calories.
A lean French breakfast for which I stupidly made a serious detour.
A bit of a posh restaurant.
And always: MEAT.
Churros - a spanish treat!
Trailfood: rusk for being dry = lightweight. Cheese & fat for calories (the fattier, the better).
Perceived - half of my calories along the way came from elbow noodles and double concentrated tomato paste.
The healthier part of my diet.
Soup was often served by the liter and not just by the plate.
At Refugio Juclar I was feasting.
Tortas fritas argentinas.
Such was the exception when hitting a reasonable sized town.
The pleasant side of Le Perthus' lunacy.
Protection from the wind is often indispensable.
This time the upper mesh gave in while the soles were still in good shape.
Got a new pair in Viehla.
Undoubtedly French influence.
Alos d'Isil.
Only God knows what this stupid cow was after at way over 2000 m above sea level.
Tavascan.
Such opening hours can wreak havoc to ones plan for the day. In example when in need for resupply.
This is stone, not (petrified) wood.
One of the few tiny self service shelters.
And someone taking his hiking boots to the extreme.
A young couple took care of the sheep.
Obviously in love.
Thunderstorms in the Pyrenees are a true natural spectacle. Happy are those who have secured a shelter in time.
An outhouse is not a matter of course everywhere.
And yet, only a stone's throw away...
High up such weather is no fun. My luck was the serviced hut right by.
With a high pass ahead...
...it was good choice to wait for better weather.
Refugio de Juclar.
L’Hospitalet-près-l’Andorre. Less than a hundred people and nothing open.
Of course you will meet other people. A Brit without pants but tatoos on his butt. A young girl from Slovakia mainly living of CousCous - cold soak! And a Belgian on a mission to walk the trail without support. Which meant to start from the Atlantic with 49 KG on his back: food, stove fuel and whatnot.
Late in the evening with the last sunrays. Before the ascent to Pic Carlit.
Summits seem to be a magnet for people. A good reason to stay clear of them.
Bolquere plains.
That wall was more than a meter thick.
Looking down onto Nuria, Spain.
A shelter for hikers. 6 years earlier squatted when I was ascending from Nuria on the GR 11.
Alberto - a kindred spirit with a message (http://caminarcadadia.blogspot.com).
Look out! Thunderstorms mean water in incredible quantities - within a short time.
Mt. Canigou.
Again, bypassing the crowds on the summit.
A helicopter without luck.
Not quite in line with social distancing, but it was pouring in sheets. The Slovakian (CousCous)girl in front. Me prefering my tent for the night.
Another drying operation.
A griffon vulture. These are large birds! Would make any eagle think twice, I suppose. Google "Gypaetus Barbatus" and learn how they feed.
Private property is becoming important again. Welcome to civilization.
Amélie-les-Bains-Palalda, France.
Can Felix. Still wonder what the story is behind that tranquile place.
Acorns?
It is quite moving to finally see the Mediterranean after all these weeks.
Many facilities were closed, here Les Salines. You would have been lost if you had relied on getting food or accomodation along the way.
