Tavascan - Llavorsi - Espot

  

ttp://www.justgiving.com/gesarmor4peakspyrenees

I past this cabana and thought how much more of this old rustic Pyrenees I had expected to find.  Dropping into Tavascan finally across its beautiful mountain river, I saw a village which had obviously benefited from good times.  Not that it had expanded much, it was definitely a one horse town.  With just three big hotels, a shop and a tourist centre (shut of course).

Having had no rest-day, on top of seasonable heat and having just finished an eight hour walk,  I couldn't think very clearly, or rather it meant I couldn't think economically, or perhaps not very brightly.  In any event I sat down outside a hotel under a big red coca-cola umbrella and asked the emerging waiter for a menu.  "We have tables prepared  inside" he told me with a little condescension.  Though part of me thought Kwai Chang Cain might not be who you wanted sitting outside your hotel. I persevered  until the wind, the plastic, and the tiredness all conspired to relocate me within.

Breakfast at Llavorsi

Ask me about staying at that hotel it's too long a story! and people want pictures.. so I missed the lift I'd been promised at 7.00 that morning after the three course meal and bottle of wine and a few beers...never mind, my body was recharged after 12 hours sleep, my mind was recharged after 12 hours sleep and my phone was recharged after 12 hours stuck in the back of the managers computer.  I stuck my recharged thumb into the road and hitched for the first time in ooh I don't remember..3 weeks! (only joking) probably 25 years.  The first time I ever hitched was home from school because I'd missed the bus.  I was too shy to ask the secretary for the bus fare so I went to the King's Arms roundabout in Wilmslow and stuck my thumb out.  A brand new Jenson Interceptor (google it girls) stopped and took me to my door!  I remember the G force created by the 16 cylinders -wow! I remember too (but vaguely) him warning me against hitch hiking again. I still get a Christm...

Yes the first vehicle that came into sight stopped.  I got out of its way thinking it about to collect something and the driver waved me up, oh boy, a big green Tonka toy!  He was going to Llavorsi, with a detour, and off we went emptying all the glass bottle recycling bins on the way.  He was a lovely man, from Chile, from a suburb of Santiago but I didn't remember it.  We had a great chat and he dropped right outside the colourful fresh fruit market in Llavorsi.  I bought a little bag of those cute tiny pears, a couple of ripe peaches and a couple of beef tomatoes.  Ask anyone who wild-camps what it is they miss most and I'm sure they'll offer back "fresh fruit".

On the bridge over the river I ate my peaches, luxuriating in there sensual ripeness, sucking the juice out of them and feeling their soft flesh slip down my hot throat, ahh (6 days in the mountain!).  I looked at the water level in the river and wondered how they managed to white water raft in it!

A small shop sold me some nail clippers and a postcard for the tennis club then I went next door to a cafe(above) for a sandwich and coffee.(below)

 Now the girl in the shop was telling 3 Polish guys that there was no bus to Esterri d'aneu I saw them scratching their heads at the timetable and they saw me doffing my hat at them and walking into the cafe,(I'd already told them that my Chilean friend had said there was a bus) which was my highest priority.  I love to people watch, drink the great coffee eat the big sandwiches and use...you guessed it!

Remember me telling you before, no-one knows, so they tell you anything!

Chris, one of the Poles, came in to tell me there was a bus at half past ten.  I was still making my mind up about directions.

At half past we four jumped on the bus, the plan to go to Espot and pick up the GR11 and Aneto.

As you can see it was a very hot day and we stopped often to take advantage of the shade.  But look closely my bag now weighs just over 12 kilos, theirs weighed nearly 18!! I know they were well built but!
Between them they had everything, pots, pans, kettles, mugs, food. I was still happy lighter and I'd given my sticks to one of those girls from Hereford.  Yet here I was with three walking Poles!!

Here we stand in front of an old Jail-house,


Three great hombres with stories to tell that made me cry, we are so spoiled over here that even if we know it, or think we know it, we don't know it, we don't know it!

I take my hat off to you three men of Poland