July 22nd, 2008 Posted in Hold the Heights, Spain
We set off up the valley to the east, far below the great rock towers on our right, which remind me of the Towers of Paine in Patagonia. Woods and pastures give way to stunted trees and gorse, before we emerge again on grassy hillsides for the final stage of the climb to the pass, at 1941metres our highest point so far. From here, the great rock towers no longer dominate, as even higher, gaunt peaks tower in all directions. Most of the descent down to the Echo valley is well graded on a grassy path leading through a carpet of vivid purple Pyrenean Irises, covering the ground as completely as bluebells in an English wood, whilst to the north slender pinnacles of rock soar above the French side of the border – the Aiguilles d’Ansabere.
Towards the Aiguilles
There is nothing in the Echo valley apart from the head of a tiny road, and circling red kites, so we again begin to climb, heading up the side valley opposite. After passing through a band of rocks we emerge on a flat, green plain at sixteen hundred metres, ringed by mountains except for our rocky entrance where the stream suddenly plunges out down a series of cascades. This is Aguas Tuertas, or ‘Sweet waters’. It’s a wonderful place to camp, and we set up the tent beside an ancient dolmen, but the herd of cattle which is the only other sign of man means it doesn’t live up to its name and I have to wander back half an hour down the valley to find fresh water. We’ve drank an incredible twelve litres today, and need more to cook and for the morning. It’s now half past eight and we’re finally snug inside the tent for the night. Today’s electrical storm has just arrived – I’m glad it’s four hours late!
Dolmen, Aguas Tuertas
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