Condom: 25th May

We travelled the 7 miles to Condom to do some supermarket shopping as La Romieu is only a tiny village. Let’s deal with the elephant in the room right now and say that we stopped bringing back local gifts for family and friends many years ago!

It’s a pleasant town with a long history and many old buildings, and was part of the English Crown for a time from 1152 when Eleanor of Aquitaine married Henry II.

Almost always there’s a lovely church or cathedral, and here it is, built in the 16^th century.

Beautiful stained glass inside set off by the harmonious proportions of the pillars.

Outside we saw a statue of four swordsmen – the three musketeer. It seems no. 4 comes as an extra freebee. The story is set vaguely in this area, but apart from these statues we didn’t see any Three Musketeers tearooms or Porthos’ Pubs etc.

The cathedral and statues form part of the central square, all in this very light stone. Condom is also on the pilgrim route, so we saw a few more cockleshell heroes. But wait – there’s a pilgrim’s donkey here as well, tied up behind the church. On closer examination it turns out to be the very same donkey we photographed in La Romieu, so the pilgrim (+ donkey) has plodded on another 7 miles since the day before yesterday.

The town is on a hill as were many old communities for defence reasons, so we walked down the hill to the car park by the river. There were a number of vacant shops on the way but the painting of different scenes on each frontage helped to take away the air of dereliction.

We finish with a pleasant river scene. River trade must have been important in past times but the quay opposite is now used as a car park. We didn’t notice anywhere a town coat of arms and wondered, as a parting shot, what it might consist of. Maybe it’s the single “adults only” coat of arms in France.

La Romieu

 We are in the Gers region of France, 100 miles from the Spanish border. We didn’t know where that was either, but we’ve struck lucky with this lovely old walled village, walkable from the spacious campsite. You enter the village through a gate in the wall.

Once inside, the village retains a medieval feel, as the next two photos show.

The village was established as a stopping point for pilgrims by two German monks, in 1082, on their return journey from a pilgrimage to Santiago in Spain. It became an increasingly important centre for pilgrims so that by the 14^th century one of the Pope’s local  administrators decided to build a huge church incorporating fortified walls enclosing the village.  The church and walls look impressive even now.

The church was attached to a monastery constructed at the same time. The cloisters can be seen, but are almost crumbling away.

We noticed an ancient funeral cart parked in a corner, too flimsy to be in current use, but maybe ok as a prop in a Dracula film.

La Romieu is still an important stage for pilgrims heading to Santiago using the ancient pilgrimage route, now designated as long distance path GR35. Pilgrims bound for Santiago traditionally wear a cockleshell symbol and we observed many walkers with this emblem. One such pilgrim even had a donkey loaded with his clothes and camping gear, probably as many medieval pilgrims would have done ( but without the ipad).

The village has another story to tell: the legend of Angéline. She was an orphan who surrounded herself with cats for companionship. Then, after several consecutive years of famine, the villagers were forced to eat their cats to survive. But Angéline had kept some of hers hidden away. Now came a good harvest, but the grain was being eaten by rats as there were no cats left to control them. Ah, but there were, and Angéline’s heroes saved the day! It is said she even got to look like a cat, as this stone carving outside the tourist office indisputably shows.

The fun bit is that, as her cats are the emblem of the village, there are numerous cat effigies to be spotted in various places. A kind of feline “where’s Wally” hunt; for example:

The village is really beautiful, and the church/monastery bears another photo from a different perspective.

Getting back to the real world, the communal wash place was in use until the last century. It is fed by one of the many springs issuing from under the village. It reminds us that times past weren’t defined by the romantic old buildings we see today – life was often unbelievably tough, so hang on to your cats!

 

The Pyrenees

 It’s another hot day for our journey from Albarracin to the Pyrenees: 34C in the shade. We arrived mid-afternoon at our destination campsite, Camping Gavin, and chose a terraced pitch overlooking the foothills. The sound of cowbells drifted up from the valley. All very pleasant, as the photo shows.

The cowbells carried on into the evening, at a volume which would indicate a large herd just outside the campsite boundary several terraces below.  Still pleasant, yes; too loud, yes; conducive to sleep, no. We decided to investigate the following morning, and took the footpath to the village that ran just outside the camp boundary where surely we must pass the cowbell culprits. The path is an ancient track and very atmospheric.

However, we didn’t see any cows although we could hear them through the undergrowth. We carried on to the village, of solid stone construction to protect against the mountain elements. Flimsy coastal tourist condos just wouldn’t survive here.

We stopped for a reliably tasty and cheap coffee in the village. Jane’s trying to hide behind one of the umbrella poles where we were sitting.

We took a different route back to the campsite as we were determined to flush out the source of the cowbells. And here they are, only 20 to 30 happy cows vigorously chomping on the lush grass of this small meadow. Nothing like the large herd we were expecting. It’s a just a pity the bells aren’t tuned to harmonise so the cows could be trained to play, say, “Viva España” or “Ding Dong Merrily on High”.

The following day we went into the high Pyrenees at Ordesa National Park. Here’s the dramatic approach. There is snow, but not much on the vertical rock surfaces.

The tourist centre for the park is village of Torla, even more solidly set in stone than our village near the campsite.

We came across lots of serious walkers doing steep trails, but we opted for a more gentle river walk.

The river was a fast-flowing green/blue colour, perhaps from recent snow melt following the sudden high temperatures (34C again today). The old bridge we next came to was the perfect vantage point to observe the rushing current.

Downstream, we saw this group of kayakers preparing to take on the white water as it flows through  a gorge.

A close-up shows how skilful these folks were, as these were boiling rapids. So here goes!

We have had an enjoyable but hot few days in the mountains, and now we go to the village of La Romieu in France. 

Teruel: May 18th

 Teruel is where we left the motorway to travel the 20 miles inland to Albarracin, but Teruel is a destination in its own right.

It has a history stretching back to pre-Roman times, in fact, the Romans destroyed the city as a reprisal. It was a Moorish stronghold after the 8^th Century and later architecture reflects the Moors’ influence long after they were deposed: it’s called Mudejar style.

The cathedral, dating from the 13^th century, shows this mixture of Christian and Islamic influence. The cathedral bell tower which could comfortably fit into any Arab city.

Inside, it’s mostly traditionally European Spanish, with amazingly ornate decoration everywhere. Just look at this domed ceiling.

And the intricacy of these wood carvings! The photo is but a small part of a huge floor to ceiling work behind the main altar.

Now we’re back again to Islamic design, with an incredibly detailed ceiling. The photo is quite inadequate.

We’ll leave the intensity of the cathedral after a final look at how the two styles combined to produce these most elegant arches.

The city itself feels very Spanish, with squares, pavement cafes and bars. There don’t appear to be many foreign visitors as we all stand out like sore thumbs so can't be missed.

Even the manhole covers display a certain elegance. Tempting to bring one back to replace the dour Anglia Water manhole cover from which our garden is regularly flooded.

Running into the old quarter is a 600 year old aqueduct, of course, not functioning any more.

The above photo was taken from an unusual small public garden where the plants were displayed vertically, set in a moisture-retaining type of felt. Jane was very impressed, but I’m not sure how our version is going to look back in our garden in Hartford!

Teruel is a middle of the road city, rather than a primary tourist destination, so it has plenty of typical Spanish establishments like this bar.

The city’s recent history is more tragic. It occupied a strategic position in the Spanish Civil War and a bitter battle was fought during the winter of 1937 – 1938. It was a record cold winter, with 4 feet of snow and temperatures dropping to -18C. Each side suffered over 100,000 casualties but finally Franco’s army triumphed having superior weapons and supplies – and not inconsiderable help from Nazi Germany.

We headed back to Albarracin for our final evening before leaving. On the way back, Teruel airport grabs our attention as it’s full of parked planes. It seems the airport is used by fleet operators who park out-of-service planes, presumably at low cost. The photo only shows a few of the many aircraft as it’s difficult to the right angle from the road.

Leaving the airport, the road follows the twisty river back to Albarracin. It’s a pretty run, on well surfaced roads. In many places the scenery is more dramatic, but there’s nowhere to stop to photograph. More excuses!

We have enjoyed our visit to this area, and tomorrow we’re bound for the Pyrenees Ordesa National Park, just on the Spanish side of the border with France.  

 

Albarracin: May 16th

 We arrived two days ago from the coast, near Valencia, where we were visiting old neighbours who have settled in Spain.

Albarracin is in the central mountains about 150 miles inland, and has been described as one of the most beautiful towns in Spain. It certainly has a long history, starting as a Roman settlement and then becoming a regional centre under the Moors following their conquest of Spain that started in AD 711.

We can see part of the old town from the campsite located about half a mile out of town.

But of course, we’ve taken a closer look. The climb up to the old part is steep, reminding us that this was a fortified town.

Getting into the town itself, it’s a maze of different levels, small streets and alleyways, for example: 

There are some open spaces, this square for instance. We expected to see a number of cafes and restaurants but there were none except for fine dining hotels offering a full luncheon menu. We just wanted a coffee. The square is very picturesque, though, with its balconies.

Now we’re looking at the cathedral. The tower dates from a later century (15^th) but looks very much in keeping with the rest of the older buildings with its distinctive Moorish appearance.

From higher up we can marvel at the city walls as they rise even further at impossible angles.

A passing couple took a rare photo of us together. The view looks down into the newer part of the town towards our campsite in the distance.

Another reason for the success of the town is its amazing defensive position. It’s built on a crag almost totally surrounded by a loop in the river. A zoom picture down to the river shows a simple water wheel for irrigation onto the non-fortified bank where there is some sparse agriculture.

The lasting impression has to be one of the higgledy-piggledy buildings. As rickety as they seem, they must have some substance having endured all these centuries.

On the walk back to the site we spotted a flock of large birds wheeling high in the sky. We counted 11, and managed a telephoto shot of one of them which the book identified as a black vulture. These birds can have a wingspan of over 9 feet – so stay as high as you like, guys!