September 2006 - Posts
We were all aware that the final day was a long walk with five climbs and an overall descent of well over 5,000 feet, so we set off at a racing pace with Sharon in front. Pacemakers changed from time to time, but we maintained a cracking speed and enjoyed a picnic lunch looking down on the Med from the Pic de Sailfort. On the way down from the rocky crag we met up with Sally Shrimpton who had come up to meet us. The long walk down to Banyuls through the famous vineyards was in blazing sunshine. We reached the outskirts of the town at 3.30 and changed from walking boots to sandals so that we could walk straight into the sea. The pebbled beach was packed with late-season sunbathers who were bewildered to see us walkers arrive. Ruth and the welcoming committee of Julia, Jon, Lola, Steve and Nicola, Brenda and John and Caroline, had set up a finishing tape which I walked through before plunging into the refreshing waters of Banyuls Bay. Champagne was sprayed and drunk, cups presented and two hours of shoreline merriment ensued. We all patted ourselves on the backs and basked in the glory of our individual achievements. It will take a long time for it all to sink in, but the initial reaction is one of amazement that one's mind can bully one's body into to doing something that should be well beyond its capabilities.
Mike Shrimpton rejoined us at Las Illas for the last two days of walking. With the two German lads we are now ten! The walk was tedious, around 25km, much of it on tracks and little-used roads. But the reward at the end of a long day was the Chalet de l'Albère, a stunningly positioned refuge on a natural balcony looking west. Dinner and beers on the terrace as the sun set over Canigou was magical.
Breakfasted on five different types of honey. The gite owners are renowned throughout the area for their honeys and sell them daily at local markets. Set off for the dramatic Roche de France, a craggy peak on the French/Spanish border. On the way we stumbled upon a once-ruined farm that eemed to have been taken over by hippies. As we passed by we got into conversation with a 20-something blonde girl who turned out to be English. She was on an assignment for the World Organisation for Organic Farming and what looked like an illegal squat was actually an organic farm. But it was in the middle of nowhere. The nearest road was more than half an hour's slog away! After another hour or so of climbing we reached the peak and took an hour-long lunch break gazing at distant views of the Spanish Pyrenees disappearing into a heat haze 100 miles away. Just before it was time to set off again a group of Ospreys flew overhead, a rare and thrilling sight. The beech forest on the French side of the border ridge was simply majestic. We met up with two German lads, Toby and Fabian and walked in to Las Illas, a small village with two Gites d'étape and a restaurant. Afet some beers with the German lads we checked into our gite before having a well-deserved restaurant meal.
Yesterday's walk went horribly wrong in the afternoon. We missed the signs and ended up map reading our way through dense woodland to the hamlet where our gite was. Only it wasn't. The hamlet was the postal address, the gite was another hour away. We arrived at 8.30pm, the longest day's walk of the whole trip. It was too late for dinner, so we emptied all the food from our seven rucksacks and amazingly created a feast of smoked duck breast, paté, sausage, salad, bread, foie gras, mackerel fillets, tuna and three different types of cheese. We even persuaded the gite owner to sell us some red wine. It was like feeding the 5,000, we seemed to have more left at the end than we'd started with.