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| CAMPSITE BY IBON DE CAMPOPLANO |
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| I WALKED AROUND THE LAKE RATHER THAN ON THIS DODGY BIT OF SNOW |
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| LOOKING EAST FROM COL DE LA FACHE |
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| SNOW PATCHES ON THE DESCENT FROM THE COL |
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| REFUGE WALLON |
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| REFILL WATER BOTTLES WHEREVER YOU CAN |
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| NOT THE BEST OVERNIGHT ACCOMMODATION |
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| THE IMPRESSIVE BRÈCHE DE ROLAND |
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| I WUZ 'ERE - THE CIRQUE DE GAVARNIE |
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| ISRAELI ROOM-MATE KOBI |
I had noticed when pitching the tent the previous evening that one of the tips from my trekking poles had gone missing. Thus, my first job was to improvise a repair.
Job done, I broke camp and, with rucksack packed, continued east to ascend the Baranco de Campoplano. It was now Friday 31st of August and, like the previous day, I just settled into 'plod' mode and paced myself. The rucksack was not feeling quite as uncomfortable today.
My initial destination was the 2,664m Col de la Fache, but I reached my first snow hazard by a lake just before I got there. The path traversed a steeply angled drift of snow that could cause significant injury if I slipped. Fortunately, I was able to pass around the other side of the lake to avoid it. I was then able to climb the final scree slope up to the Col, taking me to the border again and back into France. The views in both directions were amazing.
The route continued east all the way down to Refuge Wallon. However, the descent was rocky and steep in places, so I had to move with care. I met another patch of snow on the path, but it was flat and easy to cross. Further down I saw several marmots, but they scurried away when they saw me so it was difficult to get a decent picture.
I reached Refuge Wallon at about 3.00pm and stopped for a hot chocolate and a ham and cheese crêpe. The Guardians seemed to be pleasant folk, and the facilities were better than average, so I decided to stay the night. This gave me a chance wash myself and my clothes (in cold water), enjoy a communal hot evening meal with wine, and sleep on a comfy mattress. No hot showers or electricity, but in the Pyrenees this was the nearest thing to luxury accommodation.
They only had space for me in the 32 bed dormitory as all the other rooms were booked, but I would have had the whole room to myself if Tomas hadn't turned up later. We got on well. He was from Krakow, and was very interested that I had visited his home town recently.
The hostel kicks you out at 9.00am, so I said goodbye to Tomas and headed south to the Col d'Arratille. It was a pleasant walk past some lakes, but the final ascent to 2,528m was tough. This was another border crossing so I was back in Spain again. My maps didn't show all the footpaths that I could see on the ground, so I made up my own route as I continued south along the valley of the Rio Ara until I joined the GR11.
The day was swelteringly hot, and I refilled my water bottles from streams as I passed (adding a Chlorine tablet as a precaution) and also dipped my cap in the running water to keep my head cool.
I followed the GR11 all the way down to the Maison de Bujareulo, a posh Refuge that can be reached by car, so was popular with walkers of all abilities. It was a Saturday so, not surprisingly, it was busy. It had a bar, so I availed myself of a large beer.
Since the Col d'Arratille, the walk had been generally downhill so I had lost a great deal of altitude. It was my intention to see the Brèche de Roland the following day, which meant lots of climbing again. It was nearly 7.00pm, but I decided to make a start immediately and find somewhere to camp part way up to ease the following day's burden.
I was lucky to come across what was probably a shepherd's hut just as it was starting to get dark. It wasn't very clean, but at least it was shelter. My sleeping mat wouldn't add much softness to the concrete floor, and there were cows outside with bells clattering, but by then I was tired enough to sleep through anything.
In the morning I resumed my climb up to the Port de Boucharo, taking me back into France, and then onto the Refuge de la Brèche de Roland at 2,587m. The Brèche itself is a big gap in the rock wall, like a missing tooth. Being a famous destination for hikers, there were many people about, and some were climbing all the way up to it. However, I was satisfied by the excellent view that could be gained from the Refuge which, incidentally, was closed for renovation. It was coming up to midday and I was keen to reach the village of Gavarnie by mid-afternoon, which would involve about 3 hours of tough down-climbing.
Once in Gavarnie village, the magnificence of the famous mountain amphitheatre of the Cirque de Gavarnie can be fully appreciated. Gushing from its face, the 422m Grand Cascade waterfall is the highest in Europe. I found myself some low cost accommodation in Gite Oxygene, and a well appreciated evening meal at Les Glaciers opposite. I was sharing my room with Kobi, from Israel, who was travelling following graduation and before having to find work.
The following day, Monday, was a rest day for me, although I did have a few jobs to do such as clothes washing, blog writing and purchasing food for the next stage of the trek, which is reputed to be the toughest. We'll see!
I did have a bit of good fortune regarding the damaged trekking pole. The cleaning lady pointed me to a cupboard containing a selection of old broken poles, and I was able to salvage the necessary parts to properly fix mine.
The weather forecast is not looking favourable over the coming week, with thunderstorms predicted. They usually arrive in the late afternoon or evening, so I will keep my eye on the sky and make sure I am on low ground if need be. Just to reinforce the point, a thunderstorm was raging away on the Spanish side of the border on the evening before my departure. Kobi and I watched with awe as the bolts of lightning silhouetted the Cirque against the sky.