Voyage to the Pyrenees - June 2008
My butcher in Saint Jean de Luz, Didier of "La Boucherie des Familles", told me that his excellent cured hams are made in the Aldudes Valley up in the Pyrenees, so we decided to explore the region.
valley in the western Pyrenees
We drove through several villages in the Vallée des Aldudes...
...and past the huge building in which the hams are cured. Didier told me that there are 20,000 hams hung inside. Many of them are his, since he belongs to a cooperative of five Basque butchers, each of whom makes his hams in his own way. Didier's are by my standards - I hate salty ham - very good, and easily compete with Spanish jamón serrano.
We stopped for lunch at a tiny restaurant in Esnazu
most of the customers are hunters
the lady told us she was born and raised in this house
Saint Jean Pied de Port
Returning to the north, we stopped at the picturesque town of Saint Jean Pied de Port, and had tea at this hotel overlooking the River Nive.
The stone foot-bridge leads to the city gate, on the left...
...which goes right through the base of the church steeple!
The main street is called the Rue de l'Espagne, because this was the last stop in France for the pilgrims headed to Santiago de Compostela. The name "pied de port" means that it is at the foot of the mountain pass (or "port") crossing the Pyrenees.
shopping for Basque espadrilles
The River Nive flows from the Pyrenees to its mouth at Bayonne, on the Atlantic.
We headed east towards the town of Pau, and then turned south to cross the Pyrenees. My friend Jean-Claude joined us and led the way in his car, which we can see up front, ahead of the motorcycles.
On a meadow, cows grazed alongside the road, as if waiting to be photographed.
Ah, la jeunesse! This scene makes me think of Rimbaud's poem which goes
In the blue
dusks of summer, I’ll go along the paths
pricked by the wheat, with the grass under my feet...
Before descending into Spain, we spent the night at this curious hotel, founded in 1932. It is the last house on the French side of the border, at 1.800 meters above sea level. The hotel is only open 4 months a year, from June to September, because the pass snows over.
You can see the Spanish side on the left - the immigration and customs office are now abandoned so you can drive through freely. There are a few houses and souvenir shops clustered there, behind the strip of no man's land, which now belongs to everyone.
From our window we could see the great peak called "Midi d'Ossau". This means, in Occitan language, the mountain at the south end of the Ossau valley.
After breakfast, Jean-Claude gave a pebble to August...
...and showed him how to blow on dandelions
August picked another dandelion and gave it to Jean-Claude in return!
Two generations of adventurers, heading back to the road...
Around Jaca,Spain
We followed Jean-Claude down the southern side of the mountains into Spain, where he showed us a house he bought 30 years ago and is now rebuilding, in a village near Jaca
Overlooking the reservoir near his house
Later, we had lunch beside the Cathedal in the city of Jaca. It was very, very hot, even for the girl from Damascus
On the road, I stopped to admire this tiny country church, a jewel of Spanish medieval architecture
We parked the cars in a forest to have a sip from Jean-Claude's chimarrón. Personally, I think maté tastes like musty carpet sweepings, but many Argentinians and some Brazilian can't live without it.
From there, we drove west back to the French border, passing this eroded hilltown on the way. Can't you hear the Concierto de Aranjuéz playing in the background?
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ALSO BY LAWRENCE BOHME
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WEB SITES
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(as well as this one, French Places)
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donlorenzo.com
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vivagranada.com
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EBOOKS
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about his life and travels, on
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amazon.com
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lulu.com
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