Lac Saussat (1921 m) – Hourquette des Hounts-Secs (2267 m) – Col de la Coume de Bourg (2272 m) – Luchon (620 m)

Granges d’Astau (1120 m) – Lac d’Oô (1504 m) – Col d’Espingo (1967 m) – Lac Saussat (1921 m)

Germ (1339 m) – Couret d’Esquierry (2131m) – Granges d’Astau (1120 m)

Saint-Lary Soulan (860 m) – Couret de Latuhe (1586 m) – Germ (1339 m)

Refuge des Cortalets (2150 m) – Amélie-les-Bains (216 m)

The final day of my hike… as I set off, the sun is rising over the Mediterranean. It is warming up quickly, it promises to be a beautiful day. The GR10 offers two options on this segment: a winter route, which follows the dirt road to Batère, and a summer route, which is a narrow trail following the hill in the woods. Needless to say, I take the more difficult trail, despite having been warned that some trees fell across it and it is sometimes a bit difficult to advance.

Sunrise over the Mediterranean

The map shows something along the trail that I am more used to seeing on sea sailing maps than mountain hiking maps: “wreck”. I’m quite curious to see what I’ll find. As it turns out, here is a wreck you really cannot miss: a plane carcass lies right on the trail, and you literally have to go around it. Apparently, most of the plane is still there, in a pile of twisted metal. I’m not sure what or when the story is, but it certainly was a nasty crash.

Plane wreck on the north side of the Canigou

Soon afterward, I find the two or three uprooted trees that allegedly blck the trail. Is this what the big deal was about? They hardly block anything at all: ducking past them is quickly and easily done, and I’m on my way, wondering why that other hiker was freaking out about those trees, which pose no difficulty at all.

As it turns out, the hiker was right: for several kilometers, dozens trees block the trail, and require crawling under them, climbing over them, or going around them. They do make progress difficult and tiring. There must have been a big storm there a few years before. I finally make it out of this section of forest and onto an open area with a beautiful view of the mountain on one side and the sea on the other.

Looking out toward the Mediterranean

Having come down a little bit, I continue following the trail, which has become a lot wider and easier. I go past a hut, “Cabane du Pinatell”, which looks fairly new and peek inside – wow! it has a wood stove, a nice sitting area, and spotlessly clean bunk beds for 6 to 8 people. I regret not having spent the night there!

The GR10 continues to Batère, but I’m not quite ready for my hike to end yet, so I decide to go a longer way: the map shows an ancient iron mine nearby, and taking that trail would take me up to the top of a hill, which looks a lot more exciting than continuing in the forest. So I get off the main trail and make my way toward this mysterious mine. As I get nearer, ruins of equipment can be seen: rusty water towers, some rusty piece of machinery with big gears sticking out of the ground, an old bus carcass in the middle of the woods, not even anywhere close to anything that resembles a road… Finally I reach the mine, an impressive complex of ruined buildings in the middle of nowhere. Exploring the old storage building, and especially the barracks, is quite eerie.

The barracks of the old Pinosa iron mine

The trail then continues to Puig de l’Estelle, which is not very high (1778 m) but has a beautiful view around. From there, the trail follows the crest down to the Batère tower, an old watch tower that still stands after hundreds of years.

The refuge de Batère is nearby, and I had planned on spending my last night there, but it is only lunchtime so I figure that after snacking I can continue and arrive in Amélie-les-Bains a day early (the GR10 goes to Arles-sur-Tech, but the HRP book recommends Amélie, so I chose to go there instead). Past the tower, the conditions change immediately: the altitude is a lot lower (the tower is at 1439 m), the trail wider (clearly, some 4x4s have been up here), the heat stronger and there is hardly any shade. It doesn’t feel like being in the mountains anymore. One last look behind me… and I leave the mountains behind.

The Batère Tower and Puig de l'Estelle

I thought it was going to be a quick way down to Amélie, but it turns out I still have almost 10 miles to go. The heat increases as I go down, and there are no streams like there were higher up… my water is quickly running low. I try to ration myself, but it is so hot that I soon drink my last drop. For almost an hour, I continue without any water – at this point I am really not enjoying myself. The scenery is not what you could expect in the mountains – I’m now in the foothills, and I’m sure it would be pleasant under different circumstances but this is not what I wanted this week! And the occasional car storming past me on the wide trail makes a cloud of dust that makes it even worse. The air is dry, and I’m starting to panic a little about my water situation.

Finally I come across a few houses, one of which has a team of gardeners working around it. I ask if I can use the tap, and fill my bottle and my camelback… What a relief! But I still have about two hours to go. It is so hot that by the time I finally reach Amélie, I have long drank those four liters and am completely parched.

The last few miles are very hard, because of the heat, the disappointing scenery, and knowing that this is the end of my weeklong hike. When I finally arrive in Amélie, and go straight to the tourism office to ask where I can spend the night, the clerks raise an eyebrow: I’m covered in sweat and dust, and certainly don’t look very civilized! They hook me up with a cheap hotel nearby, where I can take a nice long shower before going down to the nearest café and ordering a well-deserved pint of beer. Being back in the middle of all those people is very unsettling. I already miss the solitude and the scenery of higher altitudes.

I already cannot wait for next year.

Mantet (1550m) – Refuge de Mariailles (1700m)

After an excellent night of sleep in a comfortable bed, I eat the heartiest breakfast of this trip: fresh bread and delicious home-made preserves – Angeline is an expert! There is also rhododendron honey, a local specialty, of which I end up buying a big jar. I know I’ll have to carry it, but it’s so delicious I don’t want to pass this opportunity! If you’re in the area of Mantet, be sure to stop by La Cazenove to taste and buy Angeline’s preserves…

Today’s hike starts with a short climb, followed by a very long downhill along the road to Py. This section is not very interesting, and can very well be skipped by hitch-hiking. Py is a little village with few services: a tiny store with very limited supplies is all it has to offer if you want to buy picnic food. After Py, the trail starts climbing again, first in fields of wild flowers and then in a forest. You quickly reach Col de Jou, which can also be reached by car and is therefore not very charming, and continue to Col du Cheval Mort (Dead Horse Pass), which isn’t as ominous as it sounds. The rest of the trail is in woods, not particularly unpleasant in spite of continuing along a dirt road that leads to the refuge, but not particularly exciting either. The view finally clears up as you reach Refuge de Mariailles, the starting point for many hikers for the legendary Pic du Canigou, the sacred mountain of the Catalans.

Unfortunately, just as I reach the refuge the clouds engulf the valley and the gorgeous view is obstructed… I sit on the terrace with hopes of it clearing up, but unfortunately that doesn’t happen. Luckily the refuge, manned by two brothers who are always ready for a friendly chat, has an extensive collection of comic books, and I spend the rest of the afternoon reading French classic comics.

A young couple who is following the HRP tells me about their previous two days, on the trail I had contemplated taking. From Eyne to Ull de Ter, the hike is apparently stunning; and best of all, in the early morning they saw hundreds of isards, the endemic pyrenean antelopes. Darn! My consolation is that if I had taken that route I would have missed out on Angeline’s incredible cooking…

The view East from Refuge de Mariailles

There is a bit of tension and anticipation in the refuge, as everyone is mentally preparing for a challenging but memorable climb the next day. People exchange hiking stories over dinner (the two keepers take great pride in their all-organic vegetable offer), and I brush up on my German by chatting with an Austrian couple. I don’t stay up late though, as I don’t want to be caught in the congestion the next day and prefer to leave very early. Especially considering the loud and numerous group at the other table, which would certainly ruin the peace and quiet of the hike… The areas surrounding the refuge offer excellent camping opportunities, and I regret a little not saving the money and spending the night in the tent, away from the chatting and snoring of the dorm.

Today I covered 8 miles in about 5 1/2 hours.

Refuge de l’Orri (1809 m) – Coll del Prat (2294 m) – Mantet (1550 m)

After yesterday’s long and relatively boring stage, I’m happy to be back in the “real” mountains, with big climbs, rugged landscapes… and less strollers. There is a road not very far away from the hut where I spent the night, and in the morning I see several day hikers go by, with kids and dogs in tow. The selection by effort occurs soon however : after about a mile, there is a very steep climb that day hikers don’t engage on. Energized by the landscape, the crisp morning air, and not having been attacked by bears last night, I hurry up the hill and promptly reach Coll Mitja. On the other side of it is the Refuge du Ras de la Carança, which is where I had planned to spend the previous night – but I’m glad I didn’t attempt to reach it, because it would have been way too much after yesterday’s already long stage (the recommended stages for the GR10 are from Bouillouses to Planès and Planès to Ras de la Carança). This refuge is manned, but offers practically the same level of comfort as the tent I slept in: no electricity, no hot water… The cooking is done on a wood stove, and a sign points to the washroom: “Washroom at the river, all the cold water you want, energy guaranteed”. The water is ice cold. It’s delicious to drink, but I can’t imagine washing in it every day.

The friendly refuge guard, who spends five months there, explains that once a week he takes he donkey to the village for supplies — six hours away…

After a short break and a snack, I continue on to Coll del Prat, a pass very similar to the one I just crossed, Coll Mitja. From a distance it looks almost the same, and the climb to it is about the same length in about the same setting. At one point on the climb, I take my backpack off to take a photo and sit down… almost on a snake, which quickly scurries away. Not being an expert herpetologist and being unable to identify it, I prefer to put some distance between my behind and its fangs, and continue a while before taking my mid-climb break.

The Coll del Prat

The area at the pass is particularly relaxing. The landscape on both sides is splendid, and there is a fairly large area on which to sit. White cows are grazing all around me, their cowbells dangling and ringing. The cow herder is sitting in front of his hut a few hundred feet away. He has a very bushy beard and hair… he looks like he’s from another age, another place, a viking maybe!

Cows grazing at Coll del Prat

Getting to Coll del Prat was not insignificant (it was a total of about 4400 ft of elevation from where I started), but it’s now a long way down to Mantet. The first couple of miles are superb: the trail goes along the ridge, with beautiful views of the valley. As I descend, it starts being more tiring: the trail is steeper, with a lot of rocks, and it starts being very hard on the knees. The last section, before arriving in Mantet, is in relatively low altitude, and the ecology reflects that: there are a lot of wildflowers, a lot of deciduous trees and, of course, flies.

The way down to Mantet

Mantet being a village which can be accessed by road, there are a lot of day hikers in the last kilometers. Clearly there are very many day hikes around this town, and it would be an excellent place to spend a long weekend and come back to a base every night.

When I get there, I first go to the gîte that is recommended in the GR10 book – but it is fully booked. The owner tells me about another one at the very top of the village, and I make my way there only to find out that it is also full… Not really knowing what to do, I make my way back down and find a couple of kids playing fussball in front of a pub. I ask them if they know of another place to stay – and they tell me that someone was looking for me and that I’ll find him at the terrace of a house a few hundred feet from there! Surprised and confused, I go to the terrace in question, where David, the hiker I met yesterday, tells me that he found a place for him… and me. Good man! I never asked him anything, but he guessed that I would need a place to stay and already made arrangements.

The gîte, “Cazenove”, is actually also full, but the owner, Angeline, has the keys to the neighbor’s apartment and we’re allowed to stay there, at no extra charge. It’s even better than staying in a dorm: I actually get to take a real shower in a real bathroom, and sleep in a real bed! Once refreshed, I go to sit on the terrace with a magnificent view and enjoy a few beers. When dinner is served, we’re seated in Angeline’s dining room and are made to feel like family guests rather than customers. We start with an organic vegetable salad from Angeline’s garden, followed by a bouillinade, a catalan fish dish, that is simply to die for. The wine that the owner kindly serves us contributes to make everyone friends, and we end the night rather late and all in a good mood. An address to remember!

After almost ten miles in six hours, such a friendly and relaxing evening is definitely what I needed. Thanks to Angeline for her kindness and spectacular cooking!

Refuge des Bouillouses (2011 m) – Refuge de l’Orri (1809 m)

After yesterday’s grueling climb, today is going to be a transition stage, with no particular difficulty. I start by leaving the GR10 to explore the lakes just under Les Bouillouses: this series of small lakes in the forest attract campers and fishermen, and there are quite a lot of walkers in this very pleasant area. As I get back on the GR10, I engage on a long, downhill walk through the forest, with a lot of cyclists and dog walkers – I have obviously left the higher mountains and am getting close to civilization. This is confirmed as I reach the ski resort of Superbolquère, a completely artificial village with no character whatsoever, where the usual noises of urban areas hit me: trucks driving by, car horns, drills…

One of the lakes just outside of Les Bouillouses

This harsh return to civilization is worsened by the fact that the trail now follows a road with some trafic, as well as families barbecuing behind their trailers on the side of the road. I hope to leave this area as quickly as possible, but I have to cross the plain where all the cities and roads are. For a while, the trail goes along the itinerary of the famous Train Jaune, the yellow train of the Catalan Pyrénées: I see it go by several times, each time carrying masses of tourists. I contemplate the luck I have of being able to walk, enjoying the scenery at my own pace and being able to commune with the environment.

In Bolquère I stop at the post office to send things home that I realize I am not going to need, and lighten my backpack by about 4 lbs. At this point I have two options: continue east on the GR10 toward La Cabanasse, or head south on the HRP toward Eyne. The guide indicates that the HRP option is beautiful but long and hard; I therefore decide to continue on the easier route.

Being lower in altitude, the heat is crushing – and being in the valley, there are no trees to offer some shade. I am looking forward to being back in the forest and away from the cars. When I reach the refuge in Planès, I am not quite ready to stop yet – even though it seems gorgeous (it even has a swimming pool) and only serves organic food, which is tempting… But I am so determined to get as far away from the roads that I continue uphill into the forest.

The map indicates a hut (Refuge de l’Orri) a few miles down the trail, but does not indicate whether it is manned or not. When I reach it, I realize it is little more than a shed, probably used by shepherds. It has a few mattresses, but their cleanliness is questionable… The next manned refuge is still three hours away and I am exhausted, so I decide to camp for the night next to that hut. The setting is gorgeous, and I am now far away from the roads to feel like I am in the middle of mountains again. I can hear marmots calling on the side of Pic de l’Orri.

Refuge de l'Orri is a tiny hut with minimum comfort.

Soon after I freshened up in the river (fresh being the key here – brrrr!), another hiker arrives and pitches his tent near mine. A little annoyed at first, I soon engage in a conversation with him, and we chat well into the night. David has extensive experience of hiking in the area and gives me lots of tips and pointers.

As soon as the sun sets over the mountain, the temperature drops by several degrees, and mosquitoes swarm around us. We dine in the hut, lighting candles to keep the mosquitoes at bay – it seems to work. When we finally go to our respective tents, I am a bit anxious: it is my first night camping alone in the mountains, and I cannot shake stories of bears and wolves from my mind.

In the middle of the night, scratching against my tent wakes me up. The bear is here, trying to get in! I spend many minutes, terrified, wondering what to do. I finally dare to light my headlamp and check outside… it was only blades of grass brushing against the fabric. Laughing at my own unjustified fear, I take this opportunity to watch the night sky before resuming my sleep. The sky is clear, and I have rarely seen so many stars.

This stage, albeit flat, was long: I walked for about six hours (eight with breaks) and covered almost 17 miles. My recommendation: hitch-hike from Superbolquère to Planès and save yourself four hours of really uninteresting hiking in scorching heat.