Friday

This year I made a big mistake. I tried to find a cheap flight from Birmingham to an airport in the foothills of the Pyrenees. The flights I found were too expensive and so I settled back into my traditional route, flying from Stansted to Pau. Only after I had booked online did I realise that Ryannair had rescheduled the time of the flight, bringing it forward to early morning. In the end we took a coach at 1.00 am from Birmingham to Stansted for a flight that left just after 6.00 am. This had its up-sides and its down-sides.

On the positive side we arrived at Pau quite early in the morning. The airport is clean, modern and efficient and you're out of it quite quickly. In years gone by I've always taken a transit bus — or 'navette' — from the airport into town, but the navette is no more. Even though these mountains are popular there doesn't seem to be enough trade to keep the bus going. The alternative was a taxi drive which cost about €25.

Any hopes we had of a quick arrival in the mountains were quickly dashed. There's something about the integrated transport system here that is, at once, very impressive and a little suspicious. Everything works well and you always arrive on time. But there are often gaps in the middle of the day. Our train to Lourdes, from where we would take the bus to Cauterets, didn't leave until 14.00. We had a couple of hours to wait with nothing to do except go and find lunch. Somehow I get the feeling that the tourist authorities here organise these connection times to boost the local restaurant trade! Still, you can't complain. You are on your holidays.

Lourdes, I find, is always something of a spooky place. There are Cardinals everywhere. Every other person getting off the train seems to be on a pilgrimage. Everywhere you look the Pope stares down at you from huge billboard posters. Since I was last here there's a new Pope and this one looks much more scary than the last one. The Pope was to visit in September and Lourdes was cranking up the papal gears. I thanked God that I hadn't decided to come in September!

From Lourdes the bus (or luxury coach for those in the UK) was reassuringly efficient, quickly ferrying us into the heart of the mountains, each kilometre getting more and more dramatic as the roads narrowed, the valleys sharpened and the coach dropped itself into lower and lower gears.

Soon we were in Cauterets. We reckoned we'd been travelling (and hanging around waiting areas) for about fourteen hours. We were knackered. Normally we would have pitched up in one of the village's excellent campsites, before setting off to buy provisions. But I'd realised that we would be tired and I'd booked us a room at the Hotel Chantilly a typical cheap, French, family hotel. The Chantilly is run by an Irish couple Mary and Philip Lenaghan. Philip is a keen mountain walker and a regular contributor to the Outdoors Magic Website and it had seemed a nice idea to.

Our room was pleasant and comfortable in that utilitarian, French, style. We caught up with our sleep and then strolled out to find somewhere to eat. It was early-ish when we were back in the hotel but we were still tired. A good night's sleep would put us in the right mood for the mountains. But that sky? It was dark and brooding. The air was hot and heavy. In these mountains this can mean only one thing. A Pyrenean storm. And Pyrenean storms are not to be sniffed at!