Our home in this corner of the Pyrenees is astoundingly beautiful and is replete with amazing hiking trails. It is no surprise that some parts of the Pyrenees, notably nearer popular cities like Barcelona and Gerona, have become very popular.
Thankfully the area near us is less accessible and often we appreciate walking through landscapes and villages that have changed little over the centuries.
On our journeys, we select boutique pensions and intimate hotels for 2 or 3 night stays, using each as a base for daily explorations on foot.
We then transition to a new village to discover entirely different landscapes and trails. Our guests really appreciate the contrasts and, at the same time, not having to pack and unpack every day.
For instance, last spring we stayed in the picturesque village of Alquézar, nestled below an Arab fortress perched dramatically on a limestone outcrop above the Vero gorge. The village guards the canyon´s mouth, a nesting haven for griffons and a pair of peregrine falcons. From this elevated vantage, the eye travels across an undulating tapestry of olive groves and vineyards that stretch southward toward the horizon. Like many villages in this area the narrow streets form a maze of houses and walls. Here, following tradition, they are all built of red brick with roofs of ruddy clay tiles.
The fortress was constructed in the 9th century to defend the Arab controlled lands from the emerging Christian kingdoms to the north. Nevertheless, in the 11th Century it was besieged and surrendered to the Aragonese king Sancho Ramirez. As its strategic significance dwindled a Collegiate sanctuary was built there. This structure was rebuilt in the 16th Century and shines above the village today.
Here we hiked through olive groves and a hamlet known for its honey. As we hiked onward, through rocky terrain scattered with thyme and rosemary bushes, we reached a stunning overlook of the gorge where we detoured briefly to a limestone shelter adorned with prehistoric art—notably a mountain goat etched by hunter-gatherers some 8,000 years ago and more abstract rock paintings dating back 5,000 years attributed to early farmers and the beginning of the copper age.
Returning to the main trail, we descended into the gorge, crossing the cloudy jade waters of Vero River by way of a medieval stone bridge. Sometimes we see the endemic Pyrenean violet in bloom on the damp walls of this gorge.
The challenging climb that followed treated us to the sights of griffon vultures, alpine swifts and even an Egyptian vulture soaring beside the limestone and conglomerate cliffs opposite us.
Our hike was complemented by a delicious dinner in one of my favourite restaurants in Alquézar. From our table we could see the start of the trail we had followed that morning.
The following day could not have been more different. We drove about an hour north, through valleys and canyons, across a high plateau and into a wide glacial valley immediately below some of the highest parts of the Pyrenean range, enveloped in snow. Here we could sense a crisp bite in the air. The villages could have been in another country, free from Moorish influence. The churches were more austere and surrounded by a cluster of stone dwellings built of grey limestone and roofed in dark slate. We settled for the night in a delightfully restored monastery perched on a ridge top and surrounded by pine forest and meadows kept open and manicured by grazing cattle.
In the morning we hiked into the Añisclo Canyon, a far deeper gorge carved over millennia by a smaller crystalline river, which enveloped us in jungle-like greenery and kept us in the shadows. A photograph of the surroundings might suggest some tropical paradise rather than the Pyrenees, yet the invigorating mountain air dispelled any doubts we may have had of our whereabouts.
The next day our van made its way up switchbacks, through forest and across clear streams, onto a high windswept ridge of alpine meadows. The snow-capped peaks of the central Pyrenees spanned the backdrop to our north. To our west, a cavernous glacial valley pulled our gaze into the distance. The scale of the landscapes surrounding us was so overwhelming that each of us wandered from one another, as if being drawn magnetically toward whichever vista lay before our eyes. Our concerns that one of us may become lost brought us together and the trail appeared to guide our spellbound steps toward the waiting jeep.
As we descended through the ancient woodlands towards the highest villages below us, the outlines of terraces and remains of stone walls clearly showed the existence of fields in the past. During the drive back to the lodge we heard about the lives of the hardy inhabitants of this area, and how they had to be self-sufficient to survive. Most have only had running water in their houses within the last 40 years. Such hardship resulted in dwindling human populations and today few villages are inhabited by more than a dozen people.
Justin
