Some flowers and tame pansy bring color into the wilds, heading down to refugi from earlier peak.
From the peak, France and Spain behind, Andorra to the west (directly ahead).
The 'kid' peaks and is surprised after quite a trip upwards.
Notes from Andorra follow. The blog before the previous dealt with parking difficulties in the Principality.
Notwithstanding the parking issues, we were due to be in the country for 8 days. However, we extended this
by shortening our stay in Barcelona considerably. We also found a another parish to move to in order to provide
a different environment, certainly a quieter one. We are getting ready to move between parishes after our
first rainy day in Andorra. As we mentioned, the rain soaked us silly including backpacks and contents therein.
Naturally, on a day such as we experienced, without a burning sun to dry out the clothes and other items, we were
stuck or at least, wet. Normally, should we have access to a washing machine then we will use it. Most places
hang dry, at least all those we have visited during this stay. We’ve become adept at that. I climb up a pole
and Jenni leaves me to 'hang dry'—works most of the time. When we are without machines, we hand wash daily which
avoids an accumulation of laundry as well as allows us to travel ‘clean’. Without sun and having the additional
wet items today, we were in a bind. Then we remembered something about ‘Wiffy’, the local pronunciation for ‘WiFi’.
We needed a hot spot. When we opened the one closet in the apartment, it seemed inordinately warm—we had discovered
a ‘hotspot’. If nothing else, when on the road, a person has to improvise.
Reflections: At about 700 feet above the trailhead, we come across this lake next
to a refugi/restaurant. 'Middle of nowhere' in a stunning setting.
Telephoto from peak of La Menera 'catches' the lake and restaurant 'unaware'.
Jenni rests on the peak, focus on the dark, attractive background. Lake nestled in background.
It's so difficult to say much about the people because of limited communication. We converse at every
opportunity and have had some nice moments. When we were about to peak at Casamanya the other day, we passed
four elderly men. They were friendly and when they reached the top, we spoke for a while. I then made one
of my misjudgments, something I’m trying to avoid. They looked worn out but because of their ages, I wanted
to congratulate them on a fine effort. It was a tough hike over a short distance accumulating 2,500 or so feet.
I asked how old they were expecting a range in the mid-seventies. Two were a little older than Jen and me by
only two years; the others were younger. I had to joke the situation away by calling the sixty-year old
the ‘baby’ of the group. No more age issues for me.
A view into Spain from La Menera Peak.
From the same position, a view into France.
Jenni moving up on this rather tough but wonderful trail.
Just below the peak, we think we found the highest latrine in the world...pardon me, a little leeway, please.
We got on very well with the ‘old men’ and left to climb the sister peak. It meant going down a few hundred
feet and then climbing again, finally returning to the peak at which we met them--they had since left. We headed
down to the car, arriving seconds behind the group. We shook hands again but this time a flask of wine was presented
to us to share in the joy of the day. We are spoilsports so we had to refuse but enjoyed the gesture. Over the years,
we have realized that being teetotalers is sort of antisocial. On our part, it's a choice and not a stand against alcohol.
We'd hope people understand but not all do.
Many years ago, I was playing league golf in Johannesburg. After each match, the three teams would meet in the bar
and do what is normally done by males in such circumstances. When we walked into the bar, a team colleague and friend,
Geoff van Lear, took the order for the visiting team members present. It went something like this: "Six beers,
three whiskeys, two brandies and...a chocolate milkshake for Jeffrey. Some friend! The sad thing though is one can't
get a milkshake in a bar, chocolate or otherwise.
Taking the gap. We crossed the mountain in front as we climbed to the fourth peak
in the range.
Peaked! Fellow thinks he's 'fit and strong'. If nothing else, he has imagination.
A big aspect of the tiny country of Andorra.
The trail was an interesting one that gained over 2,500 feet of elevation, took us through and over a marsh,
scree and forest while passing lakes in another wonderful environment. Did we mention a number of mountains, too.
After leaving the trailhead and gaining 700 feet, we came across a restaurant. Seemed strange. Some of the photographs
include pictures of the 'refugi' both from close by as well as the peak. Upon returning from the summit, we sat
at this strategically placed structure overlooking the lake below the overpowering mountains. It is a stirring
environment, tranquil as well. The Europeans have a knack of placing buildings in the most unusual places that
fit well. We decided upon an ice cream and finally were able to order coffee (regular cup filled for a change)
that tasted like something drinkable. We did this by approaching one of the customers and asking her to explain
the contents of her cup. Sometimes, one has to be brazen. Later, the woman came past our table to ensure I was
enjoying the contents of the cup. No complaints!
Glass and mirrors without the smoke...nature's difference..
Cheers,
Jenni and Jeffrey
The ski village of Pradollano, (without any houses), Sierra Nevada, at the base of Pico Veleta,
400 feet up from lower village, 4,100 feet below the peak.
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