Gorges de la Frau

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We’ve kept up our walking itinerary. Every day has seen us either yomping up some Pyrenean crag, eagle, red kite and buzzard watching; poring over the rather unsatisfactory French OS maps wondering how it could be that our 3 ½ km stroll has turned into an 8 ½ km hike; or simply following the ex-railway line that encircles our area in a scenic ramble through the countryside - yes, France clearly had its Dr. Beeching too.

Today however, we decided that the Gorges de la Frau had the vote. We knew they were supposed to be spectacularly beautiful, and a hard slog too, but we thought we shouldn’t put it off. The hot weather has gone, and the fleeces are out, though the days are still sunny and sparklingly bright once the early morning frosts have gone.

At the beginning of the walk, the rocks soared vertical above us, white and bluish as they emerged above the autumnal trees. The colour change is just beginning here, and only this week, we’ve noticed the change as the leaves turn ochre, vermillion and gold. As we began to climb, the silence was complete, apart from a very few birds, and before long, our own panting as the climb became more and more steep. The rocks towered, the trees massed in spectacularly coloured groups, and from time to time, we could hear stones (and luckily, only stones, not rocks of the kind that made negotiating the path quite often difficult) ricocheting down the hillside. We felt quite overcome by the magnificence of our surroundings, and by how little we mattered in a place that has remained unchanged for so many 1000s of years.

Still, an hour in, sandwiches in the sun changed our mood, and suddenly then road was easier too, and the countryside became gentler as we walked on to Comus, the first village for many miles. We found an unattended hostel, or Gite d’Etap, and went in to rescue a bird we could see fluttering frantically against the windows, chatted to a friendly dog…and then turned round to come home. At the spot where we’d had lunch, we heard cowbells, lots of them, in the distance, but coming towards us. It turned out to be a large herd of cows being driven down the mountains to lower pasture in Comus. Transhumance (It’s still common here)? Or do they do their 4 km or so walk twice each day? We don’t know.

Then back to our own walk: harder coming down even than going up - we’d climbed 1200 feet on the outward journey, mainly in the first 3 km, and slithered and slipped quite a bit on the way home. But what a walk, and what scenery. And what good exercise too!

Tomorrow though, we wait in. French Telecom are supposed to be coming to mend our line, and perhaps we’ll have a phone and internet at last

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Photos

Cows to Comus
They were quite frisky as they trotted down the hillside. It was lovely listening to their bells

Gorges de la Frau
Half way there.....