193. A walk on the wild side of the Pays Basque

18th August 2012. Things I see in the Pays Basque. (this could become a series!) I've been meaning to post this for a while - our local butcher, a stalwart of the community, has been advertising roast 'bif' sandwiches - as he spells it - on a placard outside his shop. His topical big seller while the London Olympics were on was the Big-Beñat..☺ It always made me smile. 

Also this morning I saw something I would rarely, if ever, expect to see in the UK - a lady of a certain age.. and then some (I'd say 70+) zipping by on a moped - complete with helmet - bringing her shopping home from the Saturday market! "Hell's Grannies.."

Then there are these voitures sans permis - or light cars as we'd call them. No license required.. All is explained here. About the size of a large domestic appliance, they often sound as if they're powered by, at best, a small motorcycle engine or, at worst, an outboard motor.. They're driven by under-18s, grannies and grandads and by people who've lost their driving licences. In our more conventional eyes, they're under-powered anachronisms and their limited performance damns them.

One of the many manufacturers of them here is Ligier - yes, the same company who used to race F1 cars. Aixam is another make I see often too. They could be described as a variable noise/constant speed car! They bumble around town at sub-orbital speed (max 45km/h) and, logically, have much to commend them. (There - I've said it!) We've all been brain-washed into thinking we need a car that will cruise at 160km/h in air-conditioned comfort with all the bells and whistles - whereas what we really need is a low cost and sustainable mode of transport.

Manufacturers know us all too well though and each year they tickle our senses with increasingly sophisticated gadgets - central locking, electric windows (ask yourself how long ago was it since you owned a car with wind-up windows?), parking assistance, air con, 6 speaker (or more) in car entertainment, 4x4, cruise control, leather seats, stop/start, alloy wheels, metallic paint, tinted windows etc etc - the list is endless. Trouble is, how many of us are prepared to abandon the more conventional cars we've become accustomed to in favour of something as small as these cars with their embarrassingly low levels of performance and equipment? I suspect very very few of us. I know I'm not - but perhaps we should be. 

19th August 2012. 6h30. Just about to set off on the mountain walk - I turned on the small kitchen TV a few minutes ago in time to catch the last minute of a programme on France 5 about the 4 masted barque Krusenshtern. This is the former German ship Padua (seized by Russia as war reparations and now used as a sail training ship) that Eric Newby would have known from his voyage aboard Moshulu, a similarly-sized barque in the S Australian wheat trade. 

20th August 2012. A few creaks and groans from my knees this morning after yesterday's 15km in the mountains. The Météo forecast was for temperatures only in the mid 20s but the humidity was off the clock. We were all drenched in sweat after ½hr or so - even our Basque guide.

He’s the son of one of the wartime Comet guides, of which there were around 30 during WWII, and they each had their own routes leading to the frontier crossing points. As security was stepped up, the guides had to stay one step ahead of the Germans and this meant using paths/tracks that offered more & more concealment. We were walking on tracks that, if they were any narrower, wouldn't be tracks! I think some of them were made by pottoks (wild horses) but the majority were made by rabbits. Yesterday’s track was probably too demanding for the group in September and I doubt if we’ll be using it again. 

It started off with a long steady climb from just outside Espelette - first on a single track road, then onto paths littered with loose rocks, before finally switching to tracks that were practically invisible. We didn’t ridge walk (pity – we missed the views) but we skirted around the shoulders of the hills on these rabbit tracks surrounded by high ferns. Very hard going.

I wore shorts and those of us who did so all ended up covered in scratches – that attracted endless persistent flies. I had a good sized walking stick with a spike in the end – either that or a pair of ski poles is essential. I had 1½ litres of water and that was just enough for yesterday but on a hot day, it wouldn't have been. Had to sit down 2-3 times – my head was spinning. Don't think I had enough for breakfast. We were up and down hill a lot.. the uphills were killers in the humidity. Sometimes the ferns were shoulder high - a good tip from the guide - grab hold of them during descents. I did and they're surprisingly tough and good for stopping an out-of-control rush. I can't begin to imagine how they managed night crossings during the war. 

When we finished, I was exhausted after our 5 hour trek but I think much of that came from the humidity and the fact that I hadn't had much in the way of breakfast. I’d intended to take a hat but I managed to leave it behind - mistake. Oh yes, we all took a spare t-shirt or similar so we could change before the restaurant – the one I’d been wearing was soaking wet. 

Venta Burkaitz

The first cold San Miguel at the Venta Burkaitz in Spain hardly touched the sides! We were offered trout in garlic butter or piperade (my choice) to start - followed by lamb chops on the plancha or magret de canard (my choice).. 

192. Escaping the heat..

12th August 2012. At the end of July, we took our now-customary break from the madding crowds of the Fêtes de Bayonne to escape to the cooler, saner heights of the Haute-Pyrénées. This year, the weather in the run-up to the Fêtes had been hot (mid-30s) and sultry - not our favourite combination. The freshness that usually prevails here was absent this year and it was hard to avoid the sticky, oppressive heat that held the town in its stifling grip. In anticipation of the thousands of cars that were about to invade the town, the Town Hall had erected metal barriers all over the centre, protecting the most unlikely places from creative parkers - circling roundabouts, fencing off the central reservations of dual carriageways - in fact anywhere someone who'd learned to drive in Naples could park. In parallel, there were several creative campers who pitched their tents on pavements - nowhere's sacred!

So it was just as the big crowds surged in, we thankfully packed the car and headed off on the short (2 hour) journey to the mountains. In the still of an early afternoon on a hot summer's day in the Béarn, we made a stop to give the dog a leg stretch at Salies-de-Béarn, a sleepy country town, and spotting a convenient café/bar - the Bar Saleys - we fancied something cold. As we took a seat at an outside table, I noticed something strangely familiar about the menu board outside: it advertised beer-battered fish and chips! (in English).

When the waiter appeared, Madame asked him for a citron-pressé - which made him do something of a double-take - and he shot back inside. A minute later, the owner came out and, in halting French, she conveyed the information that this staple summer drink was unavailable. In the background I'd detected the dulcet tones of my compatriots and yes, we'd blundered into an English-run French café. I can't think of many other institutions that so typify France as the village café. A brave move then to take on running a café which, in France, is expected to be the epicentre of village life in the same way that the village pub is in England. To run a café with only the flimsiest grasp of the language and offering fish and chips - and not the customary staples - is even braver. I wish them luck.

Chef Jean-Pierre Paroix

We'd booked at a delightful country hotel (right) where we'd stayed a couple of years ago at Sévignacq-Meyracq and it was just as we'd remembered it. Buried in the depths of the countryside at the end of a single track lane, the three sides of the building enclosed a courtyard. The difference in the air was amazing.. we could breathe fresh air again after the clammy heat of the coast. 

(Edited to add in 2023: Sadly, Jean-Pierre Paroix sold up and his inspired cooking is no more to be found at Les Bains de Secours.)   

Over the next few days, we roamed far and wide over the high Pyrenees. Even though it was the height of the summer tourist season, the mountains were refreshingly free of the crowds. We drove up several of the classic climbs that feature regularly in the Tour de France and near each summit loyal fans had painted the names of their particular heroes in large white letters across the roads. We went up the Col d'Aubisque with its vertiginous drop-offs, the Col de Pourtalet  and saw at close hand the impressive Pic du Midi d'Ossau (which is 2884m / 9462ft high.)

Pic du Midi d'Ossau

It's hard to imagine cycling up these mighty hills and yet there was no shortage of cyclists doing exactly that. 

Near the summit of the Col d'Aubisque

The descent from the Col d'Aubisque can be seen incised into the rock wall..!

Here's someone on a Honda Goldwing climbing the Col de Pourtalet.. something I'd love to do one day!

We discovered the Lac d'Estaing and again, we were pleased to find that we had it more or less to ourselves. We spread out a rug and had a picnic in the most idyllic of settings.. while Chibby attempted to lower the level of water in the lake by an inch!

 

He wasted no time in in doing what cocker spaniels do best - getting his feet wet! In fact, he couldn't keep out of the lake and he'd just stand chest-deep in the water staring into the middle distance.. savouring the moment. 

Lac d'Estaing

After checking the sky around for vultures (!) we had a short snooze - after which we took a walk around the lake. Somewhere to visit again.

Here's another on-bike video of someone enjoying the lyrical swooping descent of the Col d'Aubisque. If, like me, you were brought up in a safety-conscious country, the more-or-less complete absence of crash barriers caused me to focus 100% on the road - as there was nothing but oblivion lurking just a few feet away!

In a Tourist Office in the Parc National des Pyrénées a kind soul gave us a recommendation for a lunch stop that turned out to be an inspired choice - the Hotel/Restaurant Vignau (Edited in 2023 to add: the restaurant has since changed hands since I wrote this) since at Gabas, a hamlet at the extreme east of the Pyrénées-Atlantiques close to the border with the Haute-Pyrénées.

Hotel/Resto Vignau

To be honest, it didn't look at all promising from the outside - a low building set against the roadside and there were no choices on the lunchtime menu outside. The set menu featured garbure, one of the specialities of the South West, as a starter, with lamb cutlets followed by tarte aux myrtilles (blueberry tart). However, I reminded myself that where there's a multi-choice menu, bought-in re-heated meals aren't far behind.. 

We stepped inside and found a table. The friendly owner came to tell us that we could have a sauté of rabbit as an alternative main course. Perfect! We ordered the set menu with the rabbit, with a 50cl pichet of vin rouge at a wallet-busting 3.70€!

The garbure was served in a huge pot and, as is proper, was rich with joints of duck. I admit to having seconds..

Here's how it's made..

When the main course arrived, the serving of rabbit was copieux - as they say here - or generous as we'd say. The rabbit had been boned & it was served with a reduced red wine sauce and assorted vegetables, plus, as an extra, a side dish  of tagliatelli covered in cheese!

Finally, a home-made blueberry tart poked its nose over the horizon.. ("Must I ..?") Finally, after a coffee, we were done. I didn't eat again until breakfast the next morning!

How much I hear you ask? The addition was la cerise sur le gâteau.. 35.10€..(£27.50 or ~US$43)

If ever you find yourself in the high Pyrenees in the vicinity of Lourdes or Pau - and you have a taste for real French country cooking at its best (and, as luck would have it, you're wearing a pair of elasticated waist pants as well), then no hesitation allowed, make the detour south to Gabas (from Pau it's only 50km)  Unsurprisingly, there wasn't an empty table in the house..

**Edited to add - May 2019 - be advised the restaurant is under new management. The former owners have since taken over the Hotel Richelieu at Eaux-Bonnes - and have continued where they left off at Gabas. Go and visit! ** 

Here's a very apt song for the moment - it was played to death during the Olympics and it also fits in well with the Comet story:

Last weekend (6th) a small group of us from the local Comet association had another practice walk over one of the newly-discovered WWII escape routes for the Comet commemoration in September. It involved around 5½-6hrs of walking..

 If these walls could speak..

We started at Anglet quartier Sutar just after 9am and walked down to the house (left) that had been Marthe Mendiara’s Restaurant Larre during WWII - a famous hiding place for some 150+ Allied airmen and one of their last stops before they undertook the crossing of the Pyrenees. From there it was a level walk down to the Nive. After a steady walk along the tarmac’d river bank we arrived at the outskirts of Ustaritz where we took to an overgrown grassy track. After emerging onto the main road from Bayonne to Cambo, to avoid walking on main roads we drove the short distance to a side road near Souraïde where we started walking again and it wasn’t long before we arrived at Le Pont du Diable.. 

The old Roman bridge, Le Pont du Diable, Larressore

There, we enjoyed a picnic lunch sat around at a stone table at midday in the dappled shade of some old oak trees. All was quiet except for the splashing of a nearby stream. In former times, the bikes of the evaders would be left against the old bridge here to be recovered later by the baker Mattin Garat in nearby Larressore.

Finally, we set off again along an old contrebandiers (smugglers) grassy track.. After a while, this led to a steep field where we climbed uphill to find the owner of the field waiting for us - holding a large axe! (something of a "Deliverance" moment!) I was relieved to find that he was expecting us and was smiling! He recognised our guide Dominique Aguerre (they're cousins). This was Sauveur Aguerre – his father Baptiste was a Comète passeur. He pointed out the position of the Mandochineko borda which was where the airmen were sheltered. 

Mandochineko borda

From 20m away, it was completely invisible, overgrown with creepers. This location would have been perfect for concealing strange faces in an area where everyone was known. 

All morning, I'd heard the others (all French) mentioning 'la pizza' and so I'd understood that one might be on the lunchtime menu.. However, when we arrived at Sauveur's farm I noticed its name on the wall  "Lapitza" - mystery solved! Sauveur's wife kindly provided us with some very welcome refreshment. 

We then set off back to Le Pont du Diable where we had a car waiting and returned to Bayonne.

Undeniably this itinerary is not as demanding as the more traditional Saturday route - but it is just as legitimate, just as authentic and the local Comète guides ran the same risk as those on the Bidassoa route. In former times the route passed through what would have been a strongly rural landscape. Inevitably, some modern development has taken place – with some new highways, residential properties and, in places, light industry. Nevertheless, I found it fascinating to re-trace the footsteps of these once-secret routes through the verdant Basque countryside.

It will make a perfect contrast to the new Sunday route which is as demanding as anything the more usual route offers.    

We have a final practice over the mountain route next Sunday. I see the long range Met forecast is saying 35°C for Sunday! Could be interesting.. 

I should mention the Olympics - if only to have an excuse for putting a picture of Katherine Grainger up! It's not often that I'll admit publicly to shouting at the TV - but I must be honest - as Katherine and Anna sculled home for a well-deserved gold medal I was offering vocal encouragement.. OK, you win, I was shouting "Come on, girl! COME ON!!" at the telly! Great to see someone achieve their dreams. Well done the two of you!☺

17th August 2012. Just heard that the walk in the mountains planned for Sunday has been called off due to the heat wave that we're experiencing. Pity - as I was really looking forward to doing it but it's probably a wise decision in view of the forecast temps. The forecast for here today is 40° (104°F if you still work in °F) - with temps in the mid-thirties over the weekend.  

Sunday is back on again..!☺ Someone spoke too soon.. 

18th August 2012. Further to what I've written in this post and in previous ones about the creeping influence of pre-cooked meals appearing in restaurants here (unthinkable just a few short years ago), while out with the dog this morning I spotted a lorry marked "Relais d'Or". This is another company (like Brake) that specialises in supplying the restaurant trade and all it means is that we're going to have to be increasingly selective about where we eat - on those rare occasions we eat out. Remember, avoid restaurants with menu that feature a squillion choices. Search out the ones that have little or no choice and you'll be eating somewhere that has a kitchen - with a chef (novel concept!) - that actually prepares their own food - as opposed to some low-paid clown just banging a chilled or frozen meal into an oven or microwave and waiting for the ding! The moral is - if you see a lorry marked Relais d'Or or Brake outside a restaurant you were thinking of visiting, think again and vote with your feet.

191. In the footsteps of heroes

17th July 2012. What retirees get up to in the Pays Basque! (part of a series). I'm involved with an association concerned with Comet, the WWII escape & evasion network for Allied aircrew that was very active in these parts. Each September there's a long commemorative weekend in the Pays Basque attended by people from all over.. (there's even one lady who comes all the way from Australia..) We re-trace the route the escapees/evaders took in crossing the mountains to Spain. This year, we are going to walk an inland route that we've not done before that was used from 1943 onwards.. It started from Anglet quartier Sutar and ran along the Nive before heading for Ustaritz, Larressore, Espelette where it crossed the border in the vicinity of Dancharia in Spain. For the commemorative weekend in September, this will be walked over two days. Last Monday, a small group of us did a "dry run" of the mountain element of the second day's route with the aim of finalising the route details. Three of us from the committee & two wives were to be guided by the son of one of the wartime passeurs.

In a slightly ironic twist, Madame and I often do our shopping at Dantcharia - now a major shopping centre - and to get there we follow the exact same route as outlined above - except we use roads. What was then a hazardous and physically demanding journey conducted at great risk to all concerned is now a simple 30 minute car trip with no passport control at the unmanned frontier. How times have changed.. I never make this journey without thinking of those former days.

We started at 9-ish near Itxassou and headed up a grassy track that quickly turned into a stony one that went up and up and up. We had to cross marshy ground and fight off pesky flies (what wouldn’t I have given for a rolled-up newspaper!) before we eventually struggled up the eastern side of what felt like a 1 in 1 slope (but probably wasn’t) to the very top of the mountain ridge and suddenly the whole of the Basque coast was revealed before us in the sunshine.. We were presented with a stunning and unforgettable view of the western end of the Pyrenees seen through the blue mountain air and it revived our spirits. From our vantage point on high, we watched heavily-winged vultures describing lazy circles in up-draughts of warm air as they scanned the slopes for morsels of food.. (aka hill-walking pensioners!)

From the summit of Artzamendi

There were pottoks (wild horses) with foals and even some wild cattle and calves on the lower slopes.

To the south, the Pyrenees unfolded and faded away to the south east in a distant blue haze. The temperature was around 25-27° with a soft breeze to keep us cool. We walked along the ridge until we hit the very milestone (#76) that the wartime escapers aimed for that indicated we were on the border. To focus on why we were there, one of our number read a few words and then his wife sang Hegoak in her lovely Barbara Dickson-esque voice.

True to the spirit of Comet, this was followed by the opening of a bottle of rum punch.. Florentino Goicoechea, the legendary Basque guide, used to fortify his groups of evaders in a similar fashion so we were in good company! I just had enough to rinse my teeth - as they say.

Someone pointed out the farm far below where lunch had been arranged for us. We set off again and we arrived there at 2pm. First, some hearty bean soup then the waitress brought out a serving dish with a mighty omelette made with at least a dozen farm eggs covered with slices of mountain ham.. served with salad. Did that hit the spot or what! A carafe of red wine sat largely untouched - at least initially! - as we had to make the return journey back to the cars.. After some Basque cheese and black cherry jam (traditional here) and coffee we set off for the return via a different route.

We got back to the cars at 6.45pm and once home after a shower and change, a long pastis and something to eat, I started shivering so I went to bed early. I was tired physically but not mentally and I couldn't sleep.. Getting out of bed the next morning was a real struggle!

Overall though, a great day and despite being at the height of the tourist season we saw but a handful of other people all day. Incredible views up there and I can understand the euphoria the WWII escapees must have felt after their long dangerous journey from N France, Belgium or Holland. They had to do the crossing at night though which became increasingly tricky as, according to our Basque guide, the Germans deployed some of their crack Alpine troops in these frontier regions in an attempt to combat unauthorised cross border activity such as this. The result was that the passeurs took their charges down from the high ground to the valley bottoms and ravines which offered more cover against prying eyes. Many of the tracks we used were clearly formed by rushing water in the rainy season and the going was difficult at times both going up and descending with loose and broken rocks, fissures and occasionally treacherous swampy ground - as one of our number found!

25th July 2012. Heard this morning that another couple of 'yomps' over the mountains are planned in August to finalise and mark the routes prior to the September gathering here. Looking forward to this!

The Fêtes de Bayonne kicks off tonight with the tradition firework display at the Pont St Esprit in front of the Town Hall. These displays are usually right up there - in terms of noise - with the first 20 mins of "Saving Private Ryan"..

Meanwhile, the town is starting to fill up with white-clad hordes each with a red neckerchief and red sash around the waist.

190. Back to normal..

11th July 2012. Since the beginning of March, our usually leafy avenue has resembled a Beirut film set as, amid clouds of dust, various teams of workmen have re-laid mains electricity supplies to houses, replaced water mains, telephone connections, the curb stones and more besides. Previously, most of these vital services had been strung up on various poles and the road was festooned with sagging cables and wires - all these have now gone underground and swish new street lighting has appeared. Today appears to be the end-game as a monstrous tracked machine made its slow way up and down the road excavating the road surface down to a depth of ~9" or so, spewing out a torrent of muck forward into a waiting lorry. With the road newly re-surfaced, new pavements can't be far behind. Phew.. it's been a long time. I have to say though that, where they've finished, the work has been to an impressively high standard.

I spent the morning loading programs and tweaking my new PC making sure everything is where I want it..

Meanwhile, the madness that is San Fermin continues:

Never argue with someone who has a 48 inch neck -
especially if he has a friend..

Or this.. At least this Scotsman was correctly dressed!

12th July 2012. Another wince-making image from Pamplona.. from the "Too Close For Comfort" Department..

Best to avoid eye contact!

It's a nice sunny afternoon so I'm off out on my bike..

Alain Afflelou

Les Arènes, Bayonne

Best news of the day? Alain Afflelou, president of Aviron Bayonnais Rugby, has declared that he has withdrawn his sponsorship worth 500,000€ of the Fêtes de Bayonne because to continue to do so would, in effect, mean sponsoring the bullfights that take place during the Fêtes. I wish I could offer my congratulations to him in person on taking a principled stance against this most cruel, degrading and barbaric of activities - I wouldn't dignify it by calling it a sport. Well done Monsieur Afflelou! We live only a few hundred metres from Les Arènes and I see whole families (incl. children) going there to watch the fights. Bullfighting has no place in France - and what grips me is that the Town Hall here uses our local taxes to subsidise activities, including the corridas, at Les Arènes. (Factoid: Bob Dylan is playing at Les Arènes on July 20th)

I've mentioned before here my interest in the Comet Escape Line that was very active in these parts guiding escaping and evading Allied aircrew to safety during WWII. A couple of years ago I walked part of the original route from St Jean de Luz - Ciboure - Urrugne - over the mountains - wading across the River Bidassoa into Spain and on to Sarobe Farm, Renteria and safety. In 1943, this route was fatally compromised by the capture of Andrée De Jongh, Comet's inspirational founder, and others at Bidegain Berri farm, Urrugne. Under new leadership, it was decided to abandon the coastal routes as border security had been stepped up considerably and so several inland routes were developed - none of which were documented at the time for obvious reasons. Jean Dassié, the president and guiding light of the present day local organisation here has painstakingly reconstructed what is considered to be the actual inland route used. Next Monday a few of us will be stepping out on a dry run retracing that same route. It's planned to take about 6 hours after which we will retire to a local restaurant..  ("What else!")

Many years ago we were down here in the Pays Basque on holiday and the owners of the small hotel where we always stayed gave us some complimentary tickets for an event at Saint- Jean-de-Luz known as Toro Piscine.. It sounded unpromising - the ingredients were a lively young bullock, a sandy arena with a small pool in the centre and some local youths itching to strut their stuff. Unlike the despised corridas, this was more or less a level playing field and no-one was hurt, no blood was spilled. It turned out to be quite hilarious as the makers of this short clip also found: