run for the hills

We ride away from Lleida train station in the mid-afternoon haze.  The light is bleached and the fields are straw yellow.  Up ahead lie the Pyrenees but we can't see any big mountains yet.  The valley road isn't too busy.  After stopping in a small town for supplies and a break in the shade we turn up and away from the main road and take a steep climb up onto the farmland that drapes over the long broad ridges like a pastoral checkerboard quilt of wheat and corn.  And then we ride past a pig farm.  At least I think it is from the stench and the screams. All very bucolic.  Our road stays up along a ridge and we finally find a camp spot in an open field next to a ruined barn.  A rural idyll.

We have taken a quieter road in the hope of avoiding some unnecessary climbs around two large reservoirs.  With mixed results.  We still have large climbs followed by big descents and eventually return to the main road.  The days are long but we try to take a real siesta during the midday heat. We get water by asking at cafe bars.

enjoying a birthday 'power' breakfast of porridge and ...... chocolate?

vrrrooooommmm!

We pass through a series of tiny villages, some wearing well and others looking tired and beyond care.  Riding due north brings us to the pretty little village of Llavorsi set beside a river.  We siesta here at picnic tables in the shade of a tree.  There are locked toilets here and we ask at the campsite cafe next to the park but they refuse to give us the key.  So I pee behind their cars, ooops was that the wheel??  The valley we're rding up is definitely climbing.  It feels like foothills.  There's forest on the slopes and the farms are now limited to the valley bottom. As the road steepens and the valley walls begin to close in we consider our camping options.  Miraculously a farm track appears in the trees and climbs up to what look like abandoned grazing fields for cattle.  The fields have collapsed stone walls and they terrace upwards. It's worth the push up the steep track.  Later we hear voices below on the road.  Two cyclists are weaving their way uphill and looking exhausted.  We wonder where are they heading and why haven't they stopped sooner. 

cooking the tea high above the road

 

early morning

 Our plan is to rise early, before the sun has reached into the valley, and to get beyond Esterri d'Aneu.  This is the foot of the pass over to France and we need an early start.  We start well but by the time we reach the series of hairpin bends that mark the pass I am fading.  We stop for a snack and watch a wiry old man in lycra zip past us on his racer.  At the pass is an ugly concrete ski-centre.  
 

looking back

We sit in the shade and struggle to eat our lunch.  Altitude? Heat?  The sun has been unforgiving this morning but now we can reap the rewards of a descent into France.  It seems endless.  

wheeeeeee

It is endless.  On and on through the ugly ski resorts and then the town of Vielha and beyond.  The valley we're descending northwards into is narrowing.  It feels green and lush after the barren mountains.  We find a shady and overgrown field with a chain across the entrance, down by a babbling brook.  It slopes steeply but there's a spot tucked away which will fit the tent.  We have crossed the Pyrenees.