In the Pyrenees

[shewhomust]

Santa Cruz is in the foothills, on the edge of one massif and looking across a broad valley at the Pyrenees themselves. On our second day there we drove into the mountains: taking a circuitous route past the monastery of San Juan de la Peña and skirting Mount Oroel with its distinctive profile. The roads are narrow and twisty, "....and all the mountains wear hairnets," said durham_rambler, and just as well, too, because the heavy mesh seemed to be all that was stopping the spiky trees and loose rocks tumbling down the slopes on top of us.

We crossed the valley and took the main road up to the Somport, crossing the border into France, just because we could. There was a café at the top, and if it had been open we'd gladly have called in for coffee, but it seemed deserted, except for the cows clanging into the car park from the adjacent meadow. So we headed back down again, conscious that we were now following the pilgrim way, the Camino Aragonés: we could see the waymarking, which followed the road very closely, and the occasional walker toiling down in the hot sun. A leaflet we had picked up at the hotel recommended a walk along section of the route, but we couldn't find the starting point, it was hot, and after the previous day's experience we were wary of walks which took you from A to B and left you to find your own way back again. We enjoyed wandering through the little town of Canfranc, and following a shady path along the river behind the old houses - and then we decided to take the advice of our guidebook, and take a look at the next valley over.

This meant driving all the way down to the main valley, and then turning back up the Hecho (or Echo, in Aragonese) valley, to the little town of Echo, a delightful warren of stone houses with the characteristic chimney towers, huddled around broad open squares: "cats" say my notes (and also children playing football). I took many pictures. From here we were able to cross into the Ansó valley by driving round the top of the valley on a broad new road. Ansó is strung out along a ridge, and lacked the higgledy-piggledy charm of Echo - or perhaps we were weary by now, or simply never got a grasp on it (another time I might try walking through the park that ran along below the village).

Ansó felt more like a town, Echo more like a village; but the major route was clearly the road we had followed; the direct road back down the valley from Ansó was older, narrower, less well maintained. At first we were puzzled by this, but then all became clear:

My notes for the day end: " - Suddenly, the Foz de Binies - Total Amazement - sheep" The Lonely Planet guide had encouraged us to travel this way, but had not mentioned the most spectacular part of the day's drive, where the side valley (just before it opened out into the main valley) narrowed to a gorge just wide enough to take the road and the river. At times barely even that - a curtain of rock seemed to have been hung across the route, and then a narrow passage cut through. It was late afternoon by now, and the drama of the route was emphasised by the alternation of golden sunlight and deep shadow.

Finally we came back to the broad valley, feeling that we'd left the scenic stretch of mountain road for the humdrum and increasingly familiar highway: but there was one last thing to see. Down below the road, in a sheltered scoop of agricultural land, something was moving like flowing water, or swarming insects. We stopped for a more leisured look: a great mass of sheep moving in unison (with a handful of outliers, goats following at a distance on the lower slopes):

More pictures: of Canfranc, Hecho, Anso, the Foz de Binies.

Comments

[klwilliams.livejournal.com]

It sounds like a great time, though you threw me at first: Santa Cruz is on the ocean, just over the hill from where I live.

[desperance.livejournal.com]

Hee. Me too: my first thought was "Mike and Paula! Oh, wait..."

[shewhomust.livejournal.com]

Yeah, I can never decide how much to explain in each post, and how much to pick up the narrative where I left off. Sounds as if I came down too much on the latter side, this time...