A bit of R & R

Three days of R&R! Lovely! On Monday which was hot and sunny, and a public holiday, we packed a lunch and went off to Aignan Lake. Almost all the small towns have ‘lakes’ either natural or man-made, surrounded by an area of woodland. People may camp or picnic in the forest or on the banks of the lake, while sand is trucked in from the coast to form a beach-like strip at one end which is then reserved for swimmers. Other parts of the lake are used for fishing and of course there are numerous walks one can do along the forest paths. We found ourselves almost the only people there, although there was one largish group of people who actually ventured into the water. We settled ourselves at a picnic table quite near to a fisherman and soon became engrossed in watching his method of fishing. First of all, he was using very long rods which had no reels; the line appeared to be attached to the end of the rod. But let me start at the beginning of the whole procedure. First he broke his rod apart into two sections. Then, discarding the thin end with the line attached, he fixed another thin section on which had a small basket, or bucket on the end. Into this he mixed a selection of homemade baits and then very slowly and carefully he pushed the whole contraption out over the water until he could only just control it, at which point he quickly tipped the bait into the water and pulled the rod back again. Then he fixed the original piece in place and dropped what appeared to be a bare hook in the water where he had just dropped the bait. Believe it or not, he caught two fish while we watched! Admittedly they were only about ten centimeters long (four inches for the non-metricated) and he did throw them back in again, but we were amazed that he caught anything at all. I think that it the first time I have ever seen anyone catch two fish in such quick succession and I would love to know what secret ingredient he had n the bait.
On Tuesday, Nicky and Jenny took off for the Pyrenees to go and walk in the mountains. I later discovered that are still some Pyrenean bears to be found there and was quite horrified to think that I had let my baby daughter go off to walk in such a dangerous place. Later still I also discovered that people hardly ever see them and some people think they are a myth! As it was once again a simple stunning day, Neels and I decided to go for a drive in the countryside so we drove first to Plaisance which is quite a bustling little place and then came home again via a road which wound along the tops of the hills giving us wonderful views in all directions. When we got back I realized that I hadn’t taken a single photograph, but quite honestly, one needed a video camera that was running all the time to really capture the sunlight shining through the leafy trees, the masses of wild flowers everywhere and the endless rolling hills of the Gers, all covered in lush green vegetation.
However, in the manner of weather worldwide, it couldn’t stay sunny forever and the next day it began to cloud over with the odd drizzly spell. I had done some washing, and spent most of the day carrying it in and out until it was dry. Nicky and Jenny arrived back simply glowing and raving about the things they’d seen, so we thought it would be a good idea to go where they’d been and at about midday the next day we said our goodbyes and took off south for the mountains. As we went further south, the weather improved and by the time we got our first glimpse of the Pyrenees, it was again brilliantly sunny and the snow which always caps the tops was gleaming. The sun shining on the tops of the mountains lured us on and on. We passed massive hydroelectric power stations and what seemed like hundreds of waterfalls; lakes, big and small, filled to overflowing with what could only be freezingly cold water – in had that slightly greenish tinge to it – surrounded on all sides by endless forest. Valleys littered with colossal rocks that must have rolled down the mountainsides at some time ages ago, alternated with high peaks, some snow covered, some bare rock. On and on we went, and up and up. And suddenly we were at the top of the Col du Portalet and were coasting down into Spain. So went as far as the first little town, Sallent and put some fuel into the van, noting that it was at least ten cents cheaper per litre than in France, just to be able to say that we had been to Spain and bought something there! We noticed a lot of French cars from the area closest to the border were doing the same thing! Then we drove back down the mountains and found a place to stay in the village of Laruns.
Before the sun went down we took a walk around the town centre, which has a lovely old fountain in the middle of the square, and took a few pictures, and we were about to go back to the van when an old shepherd came up the road leading his sheep who were all tinkling along behind him, each one wearing a different-toned bell. When they got close to the fountain they all suddenly rushed past him, and pushed and shoved to get at the water. After a while, one of the shepherd’s two dogs gave a bark and the sheep all broke away from the water, formed into a group and off they all went. I think it is probably regular evening entertainment as there were quite a few people taking photographs. They are such strange sheep too; they have very rounded noses, very Roman, and when they move they put their heads right down with their noses almost touching the ground and take quick little mincing, almost dancing steps. They look very odd indeed.
During the night, the weather broke with a vengeance and it poured with rain. We had hoped, well I had anyway, to go along a road that looked a bit as if someone had stepped on a tube of toothpaste, that wound it’s way over another mountain peak, but luckily we went and asked at the tourist office first and they told us it was closed because of the bad weather. I think Neels probably heaved a sigh of relief as it would have been quite hard driving for very long time. It did mean, though, that we had to backtrack a bit and go another way around to get where we wanted to be, which was at the other end of the ‘toothpaste’ road where there was a farmer who farms lamas, who will let you park on his farm and also tell you a bit about the animals, let you get up close to them and who also sells items made of lama wool. However when we got there, there was no-one to be seen, so we had our own look at the lamas before leaving to return to a caravan park which we had seen a bit down the road. The owner told us that we had missed seeing a beautiful lake just a bit further on, so in the morning we drove back again and he was right, it was beautiful. As it also had that icy, greenish look, we didn’t try the water!
By now we had had enough of being cold so we made tracks for the Gers again, slightly to the north. The closer we got the better the weather became until it was almost warm, and we decided to try another France Passion farm, this time striking lucky. It is a duck farm and produces duck, duck meat products and Foie Gras. As it is open to the public all year round, it is also beautifully clean and tidy with lovely gardens and very enthusiastic owners. They made us feel so welcome that the next day after a day-long scenic drive, we returned to the same spot!
I don’t think I have ever mentioned what leaving or arriving at a campsite entails: well, leaving is a bit like doing the pre-flight checks for a Boeing. All the lockers have buttons which press in to lock, and they all have to be locked or they fly open and dump everything on the floor. And that goes for food too; we know, it’s happened! Nothing fragile or breakable can be left anywhere that it may fall or roll off. Yes, we’ve done that too, and had to buy a new Thermos flask. All books must be tightly packed into the shelf that accommodates them or they, too, come flying out one by one until they are all on the floor – not the best treatment for books. The water pump must be off or it sucks air as we go and then makes the MOST extraordinary noise the next time we use a tap. The fridge has to be changed from either gas or electricity (depending on what we were using before we set off) to battery. And then finally the door must locked, in case it too decides to fly open and the steps must be raised. Arriving in camp is just the reverse of all these things. And if you are wondering why we are so knowledgeable on such matters, it is a simple matter of experience. We have experienced the effects of forgetting to do all of these tasks, although happily, not all at once. And since both of us are at that blissful stage when forgetting is far easier than remembering, we will no doubt repeat some of the experiences!