The accompanying photo was taken on the summit of Vertice de Anayet,a mountain 2559 meters high (8368’) in the western Pyrenees of Spain...
It was a tad chilly at the top – but not on the way up, 25C – and I was
glad of a little Eagle warmth at that stage. This picture comes from a
recent walking holiday we enjoyed. This was a hill-walking holiday in
the Spanish Pyrenees organized by the walking company, Colletts. In
the past we have walked in the eastern Pyrenees on self-organized
holidays but this was our first time going with a walking company.
Walking in the mountains of Spain is fascinating. Quite apart from the stunning views and the wonderful network of well-maintained waymarked trails there are other attractions, such as the ‘weeds’ growing all around you as you climb. These include things such as fennel, thyme, rosemary and, if you get hungry, small black fraughans (whortleberries to you Andy) and, best of all, juicy wild raspberries (I kid you not!). Then you can look up and see various hawks, eagles and vultures wheeling above you (a bit like looking behind you in a race). Some of the walks will be located in ski areas and one can avail of telecabinas or cable cars to get up high, often to a high ski station with a bar and restaurant and usually stunning views. Other walks will go through cool woods and along ancient ‘boreens’ called caminos reales (‘royal roads’).
Occasionally you will come across ancient hermitages – small churches – dedicated to local saints or to Our Lady.
With all the walking there was little time for running and anyway, all the roads out of Panticosa seemed to go uphill steeply, and I mean steeply. I did manage a couple of runs while there. The day we were leaving I was told about a mountain run on that morning. I heard about it 15 minutes before it was due to start and anyway, the head was a bit sore after the ‘last night’ celebrations of the night before, so I didn’t partake. While enjoying the morning cafe con leche on a sun terrace near the ski lift station the race passed. I took a quick picture (see below) but it doesn’t do justice to the scene. There were about 100 runners, some with ski poles or walking poles. Apart from that they looked just like a typical Irish race crowd, with the youngfella’s tearing off and the older crowd mooching along and pacing themselves. The main point about the race is that it goes up under the cable car as you can see from the photo. It was a 5k race one way only, up, as it ended at the ski station at the top of the lift, with the runners coming back down in the cable cars. Now the total ascent was 800 meters or about 2600 feet which is about the height gained in a typical Irish hillwalk!
There was a fella there who was the splitting image of John Quigley chasing two fellas who looked like Johnny Walsh and Dan Kennedy but the tans were a bit browner!
After the week in Panticosa we drove two hours to Zaragoza, a city on the plain where we stayed for several days. Zaragoza, although off the tourist trail, is a stunning place with a great plaza at its centre reputed to be the biggest in Spain. Picture an area of four football pitches placed end to end surrounded by magnificent ancient churches and elegant buildings and with beautiful fountains and statuary and not an empty beer can in sight. (See picture). For those into culture there are several museums, moorish castles and lots of Roman remains to explore. The tapas culture was great as well with dozens of real ‘unmodernized’ pubs down windey alleys where the craic was great even if you had little Spanish. All of this in a lovely warm 30+ degrees where the local Limon beer (lemon flavoured) goes down like fruit juice. The strange thing about Zaragoza is that its actually the size of Cork on the ground but has a population three times that of Cork. This is because most Spaniards live in high rise apartments so the ‘footprint’ of the city is smaller than that of a similarly populated Irish city. We were staying near the city centre in a hotel with a rooftop swimming pool (Hotel Palafox, highly recommended) and fabulous views which stretched right out to the yellow sun-parched fields of the countryside.
I would go for a run each day as siesta began. This involved going down beautiful pedestrianized streets with hardly a local in sight until the river Ebro is reached. Now in many southern European countries – Rome is a good example – the river quays are deep and with footpaths along the river bank itself below the level of the surrounding quays. After five minutes or so I would get down onto one of these and then run downriver for maybe three miles until the countryside is reached where the footpath continues on as a waymarked riverside walk or grand recorrido, apparently all the way to the Mediterranean 200 miles away! (Wicklow Way run howarya!). All of this along lovely scenery, albeit it with lots of high rise as well along the way. Whatever about mad dogs and Englishmen going out in the midday sun, I always passed a few local runners, all of whom, regardless of age, will salute a fellow runner (not like many of the upcoming generation of Irish runners who pass one zomby-like with their earphones on). Then, turn back at the big IKEA store and soon I’m back at the hotel after a good six miler for a shower and swim and a poolside Limon. We then spent another few days staying in the beautiful mountain monastery of Montserrat near Barcelona where I enjoyed stunning early morning runs along the cornice road 2000 feet above the surrounding plain and below equally high cliffs above, but that story can wait for another day. Many Irish people think only of Spain as a seaside destination, where they are crammed together like battery tourists in characterless resorts populated by drunken Irish, British, and Scandinavian tourists, but there is so much more to Spain if one goes inland, both for the runner and the tourist in general.
Viva Espana!
Paul Cotter
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and Registrar, Pat Murphy