Vol 31 No 3 - Confederation of Bushwalking Clubs

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Walk Safely—Walk with a ClubTread on a path in the Pyrenees and youstep into rich and varied history. Precedingthe walks of our Bush Club (Group 3)in June 2006 were not only other groupsof Australian walkers but also some of themost bloody invasions and expeditionaryforces of recorded history and religion. Theline up includes Roman, French, Spanishand Moorish Empires, and Catholic, Protestantand Islamic waxings and wanings.The indelible mark of mankind is ubiquitousin the Pyrenees.Pilgrims of the Chemin de St Jacques deCompostelle, readily identifiable by atleast one scallop shell (Pecten maximus)on their packs or clothing, come to retracethe reputed steps of John the Baptist fromvarious commencing points in Francethrough the Pyrenees all the way to thetown of Saint John de Compostela on theAtlantic Spanish coast.Real bush? Old growth forest? Naturalenvironment? In some places there aresome remnants of what might have beenafter the last ice age. Much of the naturalenvironment - serried peaks of geologicallyyoung fold mountains and once vastoak and beech forests, has been replacedwith pastures on even the most precipitousslopes. Here goats, sheep, wild horses andcattle share the walking trails with pilgrimsand mountaineers. Above the sky is full offlocks of griffon vultures and other raptorsmajestically riding the thermals in a constantsearch for the next meal. The occasionaldeer can be surprised in the woodsand rabbits abound.The 2006 European summer season hada torrid start, with the mercury in the midthirties every day. With humidity to matchit was very like midsummer in Sydney.Our base in the rural Payes Basque was anold 18th century farmhouse, named Etxexuria(pronounced Etcherchuria or just“Etchers”). This is located in the LantabatValley near the tiny hamlet of St Martin andis about 40 minutes from St Jean Pied dePort. The house has been completely renovatedand is a very comfortable abode. | The BushwalkerGroup organizersand hosts Bob andSue Taffel were atstation and airportto welcome usand provide transportto Etchers.We were a mixedlot – comprisingnon-walkers,moderate walkersand addictedwalkers. It wasBob’s task to runa program that made everybody happy. Hedid a remarkable job.Part of the charm of the visit was to indulgein the local cuisine. Our cook Sallywas, surprisingly, English but through hercraft as a ‘cuisenaire’ had developed all theskills necessary to ‘cook like a local’. Hermeals used local recipes made with freshingredients bought in the local markets,served with local wines.To the walking. Bob chose fairly localwalks to suit the varying abilities and hightemperatures. Pack walking would havebeen great but was not an option.Our first walk started at Col d’Iphariatze,a saddle at 328 m and a none-too-inspiringplace, bare of trees and windswept.Our route was along a ridge, followed bya steep descent into the Pagardeyko Erreka(Erreka = Creek). Humidity was high andwe were grateful for the shade of the oaktrees. To the east was the Bois d’Ostabat(Ostabat Forest); this green patch wasmost welcome. To our west was a prettycollection of more than a dozen villagesincluding Behaune, Ascombeguey and Orsanco.Most sported a church steeple andprovided serial photograph opportunities.As we swung east onto the GR 65 we encounteredpilgrims. By the time we reachedthe Chapelle de Soyarza there were frequentgroups of pilgrims in both directions. Thechapel is surrounded by a planting of planetrees, pollarded and cajoled into forming acontinuous, interwoven crown. The effectis dramatic given that the chapel is so elevated.Here we enjoyed morning tea andlimited conversation with pilgrims.Then it was time to head southwest to Harambeltzand the chapel of St Nicholas. Thischapel is in a rather sad state, now beingmostly used for storing agricultural items.This was where we had lunch. Some ateoutside but the heat drove three of us intothe undercroft area where large squaredbeams now lying on the floor improvisedas seats. Whether it was the location, theheat, the bizarre carved symbols in thestonework or just the right moment but Irecall the conversation being very philosophical,deep and meaningful.As we passed through the south-west sectionof the Bois d’Ostabat, near HarambeltzkoErreka, there were improvisedladders fixed to very large trees that ledto hides, for pigeon shooters. The climbingwas good fun and provided excitementand photo opportunitiesAfter crossing another Erreka – the Ithurriberriako,we joined the Chemin de St.Jacques de Compostelle where time andfeet have lowered the track level by nearlya metre, resulting in a tunnel like effect.Emerging from the tunnel we were soonin the village of Ostabat. Here were some17th century buildings still in use includingone that served the function of a gited’etape or hostel for travellers: devout pilgrimsor a seasoned bushwalkers.Given the heat we decided that althoughit was Sunday we all merited a drink. Thelocal hostelry was open so in we went.Whilst a beer was popular the most consumeddrink by far was a “Citron Presse”.Made from freshly squeezed lemons, thisdrink is served with an accompanyingjug of chilled water and for the weak, abowl of sugar. It is truly refreshing and nohangovers. Mind you, one of these withoutsugar is about all a guy can handle.Our second walk was to the south west ofEtchers. We drove through the villages ofIholdy, Irissary, Osses and Saint EtiennedeBaigorry and up the steep foothillslopes of Aintziaga (872 m) to park at theborder crossing of Col d’Ispeguy (672 m).What followed was a truly beautiful walkthrough oak and beech forest along theslopes of Olate (935 m)We border crossed several times as wepassed through Nekaitzeko and the ColVol31 Issue 3, Winter 2006
d’Elhorrieta. Shepherds of long ago hadconstructed stone corrals to protect theflocks at night. Today the crumbling stonewalls and terra cotta tiled roofs make itimpossible not to achieve postcard perfectshots of this area. The long-haired sheepwith their black faces and habit of nuzzlingeach other make for unforgettable imagesin beautiful scenery.At the saddle was a rare find in the modernworld – the border between two majorcountries completely open and markedonly by border stones (‘bornes’) every fewhundred metres. In real tourist fashion weposed with our legs straddling the border.Five of us set out from the saddle to climbAutza (1,304 m). An irrestistable part ofthe deal was to summit and return in 90minutes! As we climbed the views becamespectacular but the wind became an issue,with some gusts lifting you off the ground.One member reluctantly turned back.Above the tree line there was no real pad tothe top, and across the rock scree there wasno identifiable route at all. Two of us reallyforced our pace and finally, using everybit of shelter, managed to reach the ‘first’summit, an area of ground that looked likepeat which was eroding rapidly. From thispoint we were able to walk and climb withrelative ease as the top of the mountain protectedus from the worst of the wind.These mountains are relatively young foldmountains and include an array of sedimentaryformations that have been squeezedand buckled to form the high peaks. Thediversity of rock types was amazing: sandstones,quartzites, greywackes, volcanicbreccias, mudstones and conglomerates.Each of these rock types revealed somethingof the changing environments whenthey were laid down.Finally the top was ours. We had allowed60 minutes up and 30 down: we had 5 minutesspare. This we used to look around,Walk Safely—Walk with a Clubas the ‘top’ is quite extensive. Imagine oursurprise when we found a small depressionat the top complete with a contingentof 8 armoured soldiers in full battledress,hunkered down speaking on walkie talkiesto others in their unit. Their language wasprobably Basque as neither of us could detectFrench or Spanish. Now was the timefor photos. Opportunities to have your picturetaken with such a backdrop are rarewithout faking it.On the way down we consoled our two teammates who ran out of time to join us on thesummit. Back with the group they allowedus time to snatch a bit of lunch and retailour story. The return journey was nearly allin Spain and was a pleasant stroll back tothe general store (‘venta’) where we hadparked the cars. Bob invited us in to explorethe diverse (!) range of goods on sale:marijuana, cooking pots, guns, clothes,food of every description, cow bells, bootsand knick-knacks. Jewellery was availablenext to miner’s picks and farm utensils.Great pitch-forks with wooden tines stoodoutside. It was bizarre and reportedly typicalof many border establishments.We asked for “Citron Presse” but alas theyhad no citrons. We had to settle for a bottledversion which, while itdid not pack quite the samepunch, was an acceptable thirstquencher.That night Sally put on a typicalBasque meal. There weresausages and meats from thearea, two varieties of rich localpate, local potatoes, an amazingselection of char grilledcapsicums, chillies, mushroomsand zucchinis, and aselection of local cheeses andbreads. Adding the beer andwines that Bob had laid inmade a feast fit for a king.The highest peak on the walkon day three was Larla (700m). The start was considerablylower at the village of StMartin d’Arrossa – about 250m. Stunning flowering pinktamarisk scented the air. As weclimbed the La Nive River wasrevealed, sparkling in the sun.Near the top of first ridge wedisturbed a DIY builder creatinga home in a great setting asremote as it is possible to be inthe Pyrenees. With words ofencouragement we left him tohis labours and pushed on.Morning tea was taken highup on a side road near a decayingcollection of farm buildings. Some realeffort had been expended in constructingthe track along the ridge line: at times theretaining wall was over 2 m in height andthe road capable of a small vehicle. Neglectand erosion made it now useless except as afootpad. Also along this section is a collectionof crumbling shepherd’s huts that providemore excuses to take photographs ofthis stunning scenery. On several huts theroofs as well as the walls are made fromlichen-encrusted flag stones that look sogood.From Larla there are dramatic views to thewest of the ridge that marks the border betweenFrance and Spain. Called the Creted’Iparla, its highest point is Pic d’Iparla,some 1044 m high. It just begs to be climbed.Shortly after admiring this ridge we had aVol31 Issue 3 Winter 2006The Bushwalker |
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Vol 31 No 3 - Confederation of Bushwalking Clubs

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