Outdoor Adventures with Ancient Brit
Pyrenees GR11 2003 - Day 2: August 10th
Sunday 10th August
I woke up at 6.40am as it was getting light. Despite the mist it was still 22ºC. Skies were
clearing by the time I left 1½ hours later and I anticipated another hot day. I dropped down to
the Embalse de Entara (reservoir), where I rescued a sheep that had become tangled with a
bramble bush and couldn’t get out. Across the dam I picked up water at the Bar Restaurante
Ole-Berri before climbing back into the hills. I walked for 1½ hours with Ankel, a Basque who
lived at Biera where we were heading. Communication was difficult since he spoke very little
English and no French. In the Basque country the locals spoke Basque as there main language.
They had to learn Spanish at school, but only spoke it reluctantly. Despite being so close to the
border, French was very rarely spoken and most spoke little or no English.
I arrived at Biera at 12.30, as a local cycle race was finishing. This “Race Miguel Indurain”
was a hilly 57 km. There must have been more than 1000 competitors, ranging from juniors to
super-veterans. The entire village seemed to be out to view the riders. Cycling is a big sport in
Spain and the Basque country has produced many of their top riders, including Miguel Indurain
who dominated the Tour de France for a number of years. I managed to find an ice-cream at a
bar before heading steeply up another pista, before stopping in the shade of a tree for lunch. It
was too hot to eat much, but I had plenty to drink.
The route was a little confusing because my English guide, Spanish map and the
waymarkings on the ground all followed different routes. Often the waymarkings were
inadequate so it was necessary to be able to read the maps, which aren’t very accurate either. It
cooled down a little in the afternoon as a northerly breeze set in. I reached the “Bar-
Restaurante” at the Puerto de Lizzarrieta. I had intended to pick up some water here, but I
found what was actually just a bar and souvenir shop. It had shelves full of spirits and wine, but
no beer or soft drinks or fruit juice. The owner claimed he was out of water! He reluctantly gave
me 1½ litres, which doesn’t go very far in these conditions. Fortunately I managed to get
another 1½ litres from a French family who had stopped at the pass.
I walked on for another 20 minutes before camping on an exposed ridge with just enough
grass for the tent. The temperature was now down to 24ºC and it was getting hazy. There was no
point in cooking dinner until I had got rehydrated.
I woke up at 6.40am as it was getting light. Despite the mist it was still 22ºC. Skies were
clearing by the time I left 1½ hours later and I anticipated another hot day. I dropped down to
the Embalse de Entara (reservoir), where I rescued a sheep that had become tangled with a
bramble bush and couldn’t get out. Across the dam I picked up water at the Bar Restaurante
Ole-Berri before climbing back into the hills. I walked for 1½ hours with Ankel, a Basque who
lived at Biera where we were heading. Communication was difficult since he spoke very little
English and no French. In the Basque country the locals spoke Basque as there main language.
They had to learn Spanish at school, but only spoke it reluctantly. Despite being so close to the
border, French was very rarely spoken and most spoke little or no English.
I arrived at Biera at 12.30, as a local cycle race was finishing. This “Race Miguel Indurain”
was a hilly 57 km. There must have been more than 1000 competitors, ranging from juniors to
super-veterans. The entire village seemed to be out to view the riders. Cycling is a big sport in
Spain and the Basque country has produced many of their top riders, including Miguel Indurain
who dominated the Tour de France for a number of years. I managed to find an ice-cream at a
bar before heading steeply up another pista, before stopping in the shade of a tree for lunch. It
was too hot to eat much, but I had plenty to drink.
The route was a little confusing because my English guide, Spanish map and the
waymarkings on the ground all followed different routes. Often the waymarkings were
inadequate so it was necessary to be able to read the maps, which aren’t very accurate either. It
cooled down a little in the afternoon as a northerly breeze set in. I reached the “Bar-
Restaurante” at the Puerto de Lizzarrieta. I had intended to pick up some water here, but I
found what was actually just a bar and souvenir shop. It had shelves full of spirits and wine, but
no beer or soft drinks or fruit juice. The owner claimed he was out of water! He reluctantly gave
me 1½ litres, which doesn’t go very far in these conditions. Fortunately I managed to get
another 1½ litres from a French family who had stopped at the pass.
I walked on for another 20 minutes before camping on an exposed ridge with just enough
grass for the tent. The temperature was now down to 24ºC and it was getting hazy. There was no
point in cooking dinner until I had got rehydrated.
Ankel above Biera
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