The next year...

As it is now more than a year since the last posting, there is no point going back too much, here is a photo covering the recent trip to France. As always, we have not taken some really good photos, and the ones we do have feature rather too many mountains. So here it is.


This is where we camped in Gavarnie, a village in the Pyrenees - a mountain range which forms the border between France and Spain. Gavarnie is mostly a place for day trippers - up to 2 million people a year go there. I would think that most of them are either in July/August or January/February so I suppose that works out at at about 100 000 people a week which would tally with the crowds we saw in our week there. One rainy day seeing people walk out of the village was like watching a crowd leave a football match. This is not to say that the place is horrible, it is not. It is staggeringly beautiful and the surrounding mountains are so huge that people look quite insignificant. We had an excellent guide book from which we did the 4 walks that it recommends in the area. What a great guide it was too. (They have quite a lot of other ones too). Here are some other photos of Gavarnie to get your fancy tickled.



The thing that I like the best about walking in France is the community feel - there are people of all ages, some really quite old and some very very young. We all walk along together. There were not a lot of English people at all - I suppose most English people do not want to see ice in summer in a different country (unless it it tinkling in a glass) when they can easily be cold at home!
But we loved it. Toby had a great time shushing down the ice like a champion.




Matilda achieved a dream of hers to ride a donkey (this had previously been a private dream, unexpressed as it seemed so impossible). Here she is on 'Charlotte', shortly after Charlotte took off at a gallop across a tiny bridge to return home. It was a miracle that Matilda did not fall off, and the donkey was only stopped by a very brave woman jumping in front of her and waving her arms authoritatingly. The donkey man had said that we were not to let go of the reins, but we assumed that was a standard disclaimer... Needless to say, Theo's donkey, although called Flash only moved if we wacked it. Toby had a nice one called Valerie.
We went up the river to the hotel (there is always a hotel in France, no matter how remote the place - and it serves a full 3 course lunch with wine)
So paranoid was I on the way back that I did not let go of the reins once, even though it was several miles and the donkey jogged the whole way. I have never been so tired ever.
The weather deteriorated at the end of the week badly causing the boys tent to flood. They thought it was hilarious and enjoyed sleeping in the car. Matilda was extremely jealous that she had to stay in the tent. As the boys tent had been rather a hotch potch owing to the mismatching fly (too small) and the hole in the groundsheet (the one from the nesting turtle on lady Musgrave island 15 years ago), it was no surprise that there would be trouble.
Other than walking, we ate crepes, trying 6 of the restaurants in Gavarnie and liking them all. Toby has been inspired to redecorate his bedroom as a kind of mountain hut and so far we have got brown themed bedclothes and hung up a snowboard. He is attempting to catch some big game ...