A Drift (Not adrift) North Through The Pyrenees & Across France

We enjoyed a couple of days crossing Aragon with its empty vistas stopping at one point where fallen livestock are left for the birds of prey to feast on - the mirador had a braille landscape interpretation map - which was a first for me. We also pulled up alongside one of the giant turbines of a nearby windfarm to be enthralled by the sheer scale of these installations.

At Cretas we stayed two nights giving us the opportunity to visit Valderobbres where a country fair and market added to the charm of the place.

An overnight in the short stay car park at Barcelona airport put us conveniently in place for Mandy's return flight to Manchester which via the Easyjet app I tracked as it passed over me late that morning and then across my favourite area of mid Wales where I am also heading albeit at a much steadier rate.



Leaving Barcelona I set off for the Garrotxa National Park which covers an area of dormant volcanic activity characterised by numerous volcanic cones (puys), old lava flows and abundant tree cover - mostly beech, the famous fageda scenery. Historic Santa Pau was remarkable with a central square and streets little changed in centuries and on the edge a small aire provided a base for a couple of nights and two good walks. These included visiting the small church nestled within a puy and the former quarry that created an inside view of the cone's structure - really quite remarkable.

A via verde heading towards Girona provided a good bike ride before I moved on to St Joan de les Abadesses which had a beautiful mediaeval bridge just next to the overnight parking. From here another VV took me down to Ripoll with its spectacular monastery in the centre of town.

A lovely road over the Cadi range brought me in to France for a good shop and a bottle of gas before returning to Spain via the dramatic Tunel de Cadi that passed beneath my next destination.
The foothills of the Pyrenees provided a stunning landscape to pass through as I headed to the Cadi Moixero National Park where I intended to tackle Pedraforca at just over 8,000' whose giant bulk dominated the valley. I drove up to the start point to get the feel of the place where over a decade ago a winter attempt with Bill and Amber was thwarted by icy conditions. With perfect weather forecast in two days time I decided to drop back to Saldes and then take the road up to the starting point for Gallina Pelada, another fine summit.
This was reached by a steep climb through pine forests that emerged on to an alpine plateau where near a spring lay a mountain refuge. From here a long ridge with extensive views south took me to the summit - the distinct ridge of Montserrat near Barcelona very visible in the distant haze.
Moving along the Sierra Blanco, a narrow ridge of limestone gave me access to the start of an alternative descent that was at first quite challenging, settled in to steep scree and then rejoined the pine woods at the tree line. From here on a craggy bluff I watched an eagle soaring before descending to a forest track that eventually returned me to the van meeting en route a small chamois.

I parked up with a perfect view of Pedraforca in a forest clearing and checked the planned route and weather before an early night.
An early start saw me back at the Mirador de Gresolet below Pedraforca and on my way by 10.00.
Passing another mountain hut the footpath wound it's way up steadily through pine forests on the north side of the mountain whose gullies still held plenty of snow and ice several thousand feet above. At my level many of the gullies held huge boulders and debris as the area had been hit hard by heavy storms last summer and in places the path was washed away. However I eventually reached the col at the point where we had turned round years before and whilst it was warm and sunny a gusty wind blew. The final route up to the first summit was steep and rocky with large icy patches that would have merited an axe and crampons but by scrambling on some rather exposed rocky outcrops I eventually reached the top using the fixed ropes for the last few metres. Up here it was strangely calm with 360 degree views and a route onwards marked by yellow dots that initially descended slightly before finally bringing me out on to the summit of Pedraforca itself. I had seen no one all day and took time to enjoy the remarkable vista over lunch. I was reluctant to return the same way as I figured the scrambling would be a challenge and knew a route to the south was marked on the map. Shortly I heard some cursing and a Spanish guy emerged sweating profusely having taken that route up. Thus reassured that it was possible I dropped off on steep rocks and eventually reached the col between two of Pedraforca's lower tops. From here ninety minutes of tedious scree dropped precipitously down to the tree line -no wonder the other guy had found it hard work. Another ninety minutes through the pine clad slopes had me back at the van and I returned to the previous night's base very pleased to have ticked off a substantial top. The following morning a Spanish VW van pulled alongside and the driver's daughter explained that her dad had recognised me from Cretas a week previously and was keen for a chat about van life. She acted as interpreter and seemed intrigued by my unusual lifestyle.

After spending the night on the aire at Sort I took the minor road north and then branched off on a rough track - only open from May to November that took me through high mountain scenery to the remote church at Montgarri which during WW2 had offered shelter to many thousands of refugees fleeing the Nazi onslaught in France. It was a place to reflect on such a stark history that took place in such superb surroundings. The van had coped well with the track but unfortunately on a raised cattle grid left exposed by erosion , and despite using my ramps to compensate the final bar put a hole in my fresh water tank and dumped 70 litres of water on the ground.
Still it looked repairable so I headed in to Vielha, stuck a wash in at the laundrette and went off to the DIY store for ideas. Later that evening I stopped on a quaint campsite by the river - the owner had yet to cut the grass so amongst a carpet of wild flowers I sealed the hole with  sealant and then added strength by using a two part plastic repair compound - by morning all seemed to have set so I filled up and headed south through the 3 mile long Tunel de Vielha then heading west to Ainsa where a spacious aire on the edge of the village made a perfect base. I walked in to the traditional village on a sunny evening and was lucky enough to spot a robin's nest hidden in the church cloisters. The eco museum made an interesting diversion but as I returned to the van the long line of dark cloud that had loomed away to the north approached steadily. Around 2am I was awoken by a single magnificent thunderclap after which it rained torrentialy until dawn with more sound and light effects. I noticed a couple with their young child and 3 dogs occupying a SWB VW T4 with a pop top had at some point moved well away from the electrical transformer  for the village.

With diesel being cheaper in Spain than France I filled up before taking the road north, passing through the Bielsa tunnel and emerging rather surprisingly in to 4 inches of snow - the northern (French) side of this range obviously having seen a more wintry version of last night's storm.
Anyway after descending several thousand feet things improved as I began this final leg of my 8 month trip.

The small aire at Condom made a good base for the voies vertes that headed east with visits to another historic village - Laressingle - and a bridge well known to pilgrims en route to Santiago de Compostella.
Then it was on to the Lot Valley for two days cycling on sections of the Veloroute 86 - the latter taking me down to Cahors with its beautiful turreted bridge and Albas providing another quiet spot to stay right by the river. 
Moving north again to the Creuse Valley  near Le Blanc saw more cycling along almost deserted cycle tracks with the magnificent viaduct at Le Blanc a main feature. The old stations and crossing keepers' cottages are largely restored and occupied and seem to be a bargain at around £100k.

Lencloitre near Chatellerault gave access to the Green Line a 40km route that was again almost deserted  - the whole area is largely agricultural with most old stations having grain silos in the marshaling yards. The flowers were superb whilst most of the track was shaded by trees whose blossom created a white carpet to ride on.

I am now in the Loire Valley and will move on tomorrow as I have a ferry to Portsmouth in just under a week - there are more VVs to do across Normandy and I expect to post again after the HUBB event in three weeks time.

Piccies here CLICK