Day 1: Cauterets to Refuge Wallon
The rain bucketed down during the night but there was no real storm, no thunder or lightening. We awoke to a grey, damp and cold morning. After breakfast I interviewed Philip for the Outdoors Station and, hopefully, by the time you read this the interview will have been published. Philip and Mary bought the hotel in 2006 after having worked in London for a while. Mary wanted to live in France and Philip said fine provided they could be near the mountains!
After the interview we continued chatting to Mary and Philip for a while; what a nice couple they are. They were now at their busiest time of the year which would mean the end of Philip's trips to the mountains for a few months, although a few weeks previously he had managed to snatch an overnight at the Lac d'Aratille. He also told me that the talk of Cauterets last year was the discovery of wolf tracks near Vignemale. The wolf/wolves in question haven't been seen yet but experts think that they have quietly made there way back into the Pyrenees from Italy. We both got quite excited about this, although I did find myself worrying for the wolf. The farmers around these parts are pretty annoyed about attempts to re-introduce the brown bear and they'll hunt them down and shoot them whenever they can. Goodness knows how loopy they'll get if they think wolves are on the loose.
Philip and Mary were obviously enjoying their time in France. Cauterets is primarily a ski resort although they told me that during their time the summer trade has picked up considerably as more and more international walkers take to the Pyrenean hills. Amongst this contingent of new walkers are readers of the Outdoors Magic forum many of whom have stayed at the hotel, which I thought was rather nice.
Anyhow, I can heartily recommend Mary and Philip's hotel. You can visit their website here.
Eventually we said our good-byes, hauled on our packs and made the hundred yard journey (all downhill) to the Ski Bar. The Ski Bar always seems to me to be the heart of the village. I guess — as the name suggests — it is far busier in the winter but even in summer it doesn't do badly. Not only is the bar a great place to sit and watch the world go by, but it is right opposite to the best gear shop in town, Intersport. After a quick 'express' I couldn't resist a quick dash over the road. Intersport isn't the best gear shop in the world but it has something of everything that a walker, or trekker, would want. It was nice to see that they had some Colman-type gas canisters in stock. They also featured a display of X Socks which — thank goodness — came in a variety of colours. Here in the UK we can only get x-Socks in dark blue. I picked up a pair of Trekking Lite Extreme socks, which are not imported into the UK. These promised to be ultra breathable, perhaps just right for the hot weather (if it ever decided to turn up).
Next it was off to buy supplies. Cauterets is a pretty important re-supply point for long distance walkers; it sits on the GR10 and is a handy drop off point for those walking the Haute Route. The first call is always made to the old, small, market that sits behind a fine Victorian-style wrought iron facade. There are stalls here selling only saucisson while others specialise only in the cheeses of the mountains. There's a wonderful boucherie and a deli that sells superb looking, home made meals for lunchtime. There's a bakery, of course, and one of those amazing patisseries that sells all manner of wonderful looking cakes — shame they don't really fit into a rucksack.
The local saucisson is an amazing mountain food and perfect for trekkers. It's a kind of very dense, cooked, sausage made from pork with lots of blood in it. Sometimes it is sold as just pure pork while other sausages are made with various, secret, herb and spice mixes. When you're tired this stuff really does give you a shot of quick energy and is far more effective than any energy drink. And it lasts for ever. The mountain cheeses are almost as long lasting. The most famous of these is Brebis which can be bought in small, whole cheeses, or in big chunks. Brebis can last a long time in the pack as well. These days lunch is always saucisson and Brebis with perhaps some bread if I've still got some that's fresh. You do get a bit tired of the saucisson after a while but its rejuvenating qualities more than make up for such a repetitive lunch.
From the market it was off to the little Supermarket next door. As befits a country of campers, French supermarkets are full of all kinds of wonderful things. Their powdered soups, for example, are far nicer than ours and it's always worth packing a few of these in the backpack. You can also find a wonderful vegetable purée that is sold in tubes like tomato purée but which has a rounder taste. You can always make a tasty meal by warming some of this stuff up with some couscous and adding some sausage and cheese. We also bought some chorizo sausage to give our couscous a bit of a "zing" (as they say on Saturday Kitchen). The vegetable purée was left behind as I've now taken my inspiration from this and have designed a home-made, dehydrated version that I take with me.
Our final trip was to a small hardware store — or bricolage, Cantena, just down the street. One of the dilemmas facing any trekker in this part of the world is what kind of stove to bring and which kind of fuel to use. The higher up in the mountains you go the more unlikely it is to find Coleman gas canisters and, sometime, even the blue Camping Gaz canisters can be in short supply. On other trips I've resorted occasionally to using a multi fuel stove that can run on white gas, diesel or unleaded petrol, but this is heavy and a bit fiddly. This year I'd decided to take a tiny meths stove, the Whitebox, that I've been using for some time (together with a Bushbudy wood-burning stove — as there were two of us the weight gain was negligible). In France outdoor ships do not sell meths but you can get it at any hardware store, and each little village has one of these. You can often find it in supermarkets, in the solvents section, which is often something of a 'sniffer's' paradise. In France you ask for 'Alcohol de Brulée'. The assistant disappeared into the depths of the shop — these are amazing places — before returning with a litre and a half bottle of the stuff. The bottle cost me all of 2€! In France this is sold as a colourless liquid — they don't add purple die. It also smells different and, to my nose, is more pleasant than our stuff. It works just as well as our meths.
We were now ready for the off. By now the rain had returned. We waited, soaked and shivering, with a handful of other hikers, to take the bus up to the Pont D'Espagne from where we would start walking.
By the time we reached the car park at the Pont the rain was lashing down with a vengeance. Everyone huddled under the shelter of the visitor centre and put on their waterproofs. Eventually we decided to make a break for it and struck out, into the rain, with the others reluctantly following us. France in high summer? I've known better weather in Scotland in the winter. It was not only wet but very cold.
The rain was toying with the idea of becoming hail. It was pretty unpleasant. After ten minutes walk there was nothing for it. We headed straight into the bar of the Hotelerie du Clot. We might as well have lunch we thought, and sat down to tuck into omelettes and chips. If you think we were being particularly fickle, well I should point out that within a few minutes were were joined by everyone who had been on the bus up to the Pont.
After we'd polished off lunch there really was no point in hanging round any longer; we were simply going to get very wet.
Walking up the Marcadau through the storm
Guidebooks wax lyrical about the Marcadau Valley, and quite rightly so. The Marcadau is far greener, and wider than many vallées in this area. Normally you can just feel the strains and stresses of the city draining away as you start your walk here. Marcadau means market place and for centuries these open spaces were the meeting point for livestock traders from both sides of the border. You can almost feel the echoes of these ancient traders. A walk up the Marcadau is a pretty god way to start any walking holiday.
Our objective was Refuge Wallon at the head of the valley. This is not a demanding walk and — even in the rain — we were at the refuge quite early on. As we approached Wallon the rain storm decided to become a full on storm; lightening flashed across the mountains above us. We just had time to pitch when the storm really decided to go for broke. There was nothing to do but sit inside and plan tomorrow's trip.
The rain beat down for what seemed like an eternity. The plan for next day was to cross into Spain via the Col d'Arratille. A storm was forecast and I wondered whether the storm might have come early. It looked as if weather was to be a real factor in route planning. Rather unusually there had been a big snow fall at the end of June and reports from early trekkers suggested that some of the crossings were still snow-bound. I'd hoped to be able to get a good view of the mountains from Wallon but, in all honesty, I couldn't see a thing through the mist and the rain.
Eventually the rain ceased and we pottered over to the Refuge. I'd planned to go over early and eat in the refuge, hoping to catch the atmosphere of the place on tape. But it was seven in the evening when we entered, meals had already been ordered and the throng was sitting down to await service. Perhaps this podcast wasn't going to be quite as straightforward as I'd hoped. The atmosphere was positively damp and humid as, what seemed like, hundred of waterproofs steamed dry.
Refuge Wallon is a pretty special, and important, place. The first hut buildings were established here during the early days of modern Pyrenean exploration and helped the pioneers chart the mountains. The modern refuge is huge and some sniffy trekkers feel that it more like a hotel these days. All I can say is that these folks have a very odd view of hotels. Wallon is very basic and could rather do with a good clean, if not a refurbishment. What I like about it is that it is easily accessible from Cauterets. On previous visits I've met a lot of young children here, getting their fist taste of the mountains. Inevitably the youngsters have been having a great time — you can almost see a life long love of the mountains taking root there and then.
Most of the surrounding refuges in this area have now been cleverly refurbished; they manage to retain the pioneering atmosphere of the high refuges while massively improving both their comfort and functionality. Wallon was looking very tired in comparison and was the only refuge in the area where it was forbidden to drink the water. Back in Cauterets Philip had told me that Wallon was leased and the lease only had a couple of years left to run. The original owners were planning to take the refuge back and as a result the CAF (as tenants) couldn't make the necessary investment to upgrade it. Perhaps, Wallon will be refurbished to the standard of its neighbours over the next couple of years.
We made our way back to the tent and no soon as we were inside than the rains returned. We decided to wake early next morning and make our way up to the col. Once at the top we could make a judgement about the snow and the weather. I'd been caught up there before in bad storms and it is not a place to linger! If we could cross over then fine — not least because it never rains on the Spanish side (seemingly). But if things were dodgy we'd retreat to Wallon and then think again.