South for Sun

After an excellent meal in Brecon with good friends from the badminton club I made an early start on a wet Thursday morning to cross a saturated Wales and England reaching Portsmouth in time to enjoy the impressive attractions of  the historic dockyards : HMS Warrior was (to me anyway) even more interesting than Nelson's Victory but both are a tribute to our nation's seafaring heritage and the skills of modern day restorers. The Mary Rose will be open again next year in a new state of the art display building. I resisted the attraction of the arcades at Southsea and joined the short queue for my LD Lines overnight crossing to Le Havre. After an uneventful voyage I instructed the sat knave to take  me to the Loire via non motorway routes, stopping en route to pick up provisions for lunch in the sun in a sleepy village - the familiarity of France fitting  like a pair of old slippers.
The quiet site just outside Tours provided intermittent wifi, hot showers and a chance to rough out the next few days. The rain blanketing the UK was in evidence so as planned I headed south again with a rural site outside Bordeaux the goal. A supermarket sweep to top up my cupboards to see me over the festive break, a tankful of fuel at around £1.10 a litre and a fast stretch on the empty A10 had me at the site gates by dusk - ferme despite the listing in my book. However the huge benefit of the new roof is that discreet wild pitching is so much easier so I was soon tucked away in a quiet car park in a nearby village - Guitres.
A few hours in warm sunshine brought me to Ixtsassou in the French Basque country - the foothills of the Pyrenees whose loftier snow capped summits had been shimmering enticingly in the distance for a while.
The large well kept site was empty bar two other vans which suited me very well and I was soon set up for a doze in the sun - the village pharmacy's thermometer indicated 68 degrees when I walked in later.
In need of some exercise I spent the next day cycling up to a nearby ridge which offered wonderful views on another warm but very windy day - it can obviously blow like mad up here as a radio mast had been bent right over but the local pottok horses seemed oblivious. Sixteen vultures were arguing over a carcass but were still sufficiently wary of me and took off en masse in a remarkable display. The 2.5 hour ride up was retraced in half an hour with brakes heating up as I passed remote farms with lambs in the field.
Christmas Day saw a flurry of texts exchanged with friends and family before I drove through the Nive Valley (amazed to see the boulangeries open) to park in sleepy Urdos and start a 5 hour walk to the Pic D'Iparla on one of the many crests that form part of the GR10 Trans Pyrennean route. Passing sheep being gathered for milking and up through chestnut woodlands I soon reached the Col and turned north for the lofty summit with more pottoks and vultures for company but no bipeds. Lunch at the top with its panoramic views was welcome before I picked up a lesser path - described as difficult but in reality no worse than the average British mountain route - which dropped steeply off the ridge and took me right under the outcrop where the vultures nest. The longest worm I have ever seen was emerging from its burrow in the warm weather as I dropped slowly back to Urdos and had a chat with a local family.
A short drive to Arneguy on the French/Spanish border set me up to climb high above the valley towards Urkulu where I found a lofty vantage point to spend the night. Today I continued upwards ignoring the 'road closed' sign as hunters had also gone through in their vans and was soon crossing large patches of snow.
The sat knave wanted me to take a track down to Roncesvalles which would have been great on a mountain bike - never fully trust these modern devices - and with heavier snow lying ahead I decided to return to Arneguy. The taste of the these empty summits has convinced me to return for a fuller exploration next Autumn so I resumed my intention and headed over the Puerto de Ibaneta to Roncesvalles in Navarra. Whilst still part of the Basque region the Spanish influence was in evidence with different brands, signage and  other subtle nuances. Turning east for a couple of hours took me through sublime limestone valleys with lunch atop a pass at 1150m. The Roncal valley south had towering cliffs either side before emerging at a large new lake above which a few miles further on stood intriguingly abandoned Esco whose quiet eerie streets hid so many tales and secrets.
The nearby monastery at Leyre and the Castillo de Javier were both impressive and a new autovia soon had me in Pamplona where a small site provided the night's accommodation  - with wifi and hook up. The latter seemed to be malfunctioning as I failed to get a supply but after various tests it seems it is my cable that is at fault - fortunately by moving I could use my shorter back up and will source 20m of Spain's finest copper three core in town tomorrow A quick Skype to family was welcome  and this blog up date completed. Pictures here as ever and Spotty spot here
Happy New Year to one and all - my intention is to head to Bilbao for some culture and then west to Gallicia, before turning south through Portugal to reach Gibraltar by the last few days of January.