
We arrived at Girona airport around 9ish and met up with Andy who had been climbing in the Spanish Pyrenees, and we then drove over some hideously bendy and high mountain pass, taking us around 4 and half hours to reach Chez Arran, our apartment for the next 10 days.
http://www.chezarran.com/index.php
I'd happily recommend staying at the Arran's hoose to anyone going to this region of the French Pyrenees. Both the apartment and house are lovely, clean, comfortable and well placed for all the local climbing (of which there is an abundance!) And John and Ann themselves were a wealth of information about different areas and routes and how to get from A to B. There was even a box of teabags in the apartment for which i was eternally grateful after Andy hadn't managed to get anything other than mint tea. What is it with the French and Spanish and not having proper tea!?

We arrived around 2am and all collapsed into bed, awakening to blazing sunshine and a leisurely start to the day (with RB rushing off down the street after hearing the bread van peep it's horn around 10ish. Croissants and Chocie du Pains, num num!) We head off to Auzat, which is roughly a half hour drive from the apartment but from the word go, I have a headache which gets worse and worse and ends up a full blown migraine. This happened on the first day of my trip last time! I think it's something to do with dehydration and being over tired or something, though it's weird I don't get it on return journeys. Frustrating, as it meant I couldn't climb at all! I did try, I made 3 or 4 moves on a route that RB led, but on each move my head was pounding and I had to come down. I took a few photos of RB and Andy, necked some strong painkillers, then went back to the car (auzat has a 5minute walk in!) and lay down and slept for a while. RB and Andy led a few routes each
Friday saw us having an early start, making the most of the brilliant weather, to take a walk up to the East Face of The Dent D'Orlu, a 2222m peak which was our main motivation for choosing the Ariege region to come too for a holiday. I'd fancied the sound of an easy route called Les Dalles Blanches, but had heard that it was a bit scrappy looking (and it was!) Instead we did the recommended Tapas Sans Dalles at 5b+ which was 11 pitches long and topped out on the summit. I bagged the 1st pitch seen as I didn't get to climb yesterday and ended up messing things up by taking the wrong route, ooooops! I just saw a line of bolts and followed them which is all too easy to do with no route description of any kind. We did have a diagram showing the route veering left which I failed to consult. That was fine though and I also led the 2nd pitch (too time consuming to swap individual leads between 3 people, so we were doing 2 leads each) So, I'm running out the 2nd pitch and there hasn't been any bolts for ages! But I finally clock one out right, after much hesitation and 'oh bugger, where the hell do I go!?'



We went for a meal in the local Thermal spa hotel and oh yum yum! The food here was delicious! I take back every word about French food being boring! RB and Andy had some Pork dish and I had Salmon with a creamy watercress sauce. We had a buffet for starters and chocolate cake for pudding, none of this crackers and cheese nonsense! RB was going crazy for cheese over the holiday and at one point I think we had about 5 different types of cheese in our fridge at the apartment, one of which I refused to have anything to do with as it stank so much!

and we went back to the apartment.

On Saturday we were supposed to do another mountain route at the Pic De Bassies. But it had rained heavily through the night and the cloud was down to valley level, so too damp and misty for the high hills. Boo! Our neighbours in crime, Alison and Kenny from the Edinburgh Mountaineering Club had been to Appy previously in the week, and I liked the sound of it, steep with good holds! But I was disappointed when I got there, to find out it was granite and not limestone, gutting! And it was pretty green and lichenous in places, only clean higher up. In retrospect I was being far too fussy as both RB and Andy enjoyed the routes they did. But I just couldn't work up any inspiration for the place or motivation to climb anything. And I felt too cold and damp. I was quite happy to belay though and be on camera duty as Andy and RB climbed a 5c, then Andy tried to lead a route that they both really liked the look of. We found the topo a bit confusing and found it difficult to work out which route was which, but the route they did was either a 6a or a 6c+
The both found it too hard for 6a, but Andy reckoned it couldn't be 6c+ He didn't manage to lead it though, and I've never seen him having to aid a route before, so I reckon it's harder than what he thought.
It was right up RB's alley though, and very, very suited to her with it having small but positive holds and steep like she enjoys! She managed it cleanly second go on toprope, and now I'm home and have looked the route up properly it turns out it is the 6c+ route, so she'll be mega chuffed with that!

But Andy them mentioned that the guide had estimated 5-6hours for the route and that made me rethink things, realising that we'd climb it much slower as a 3, and Andy was getting tired of having to do the crux pitches on stuff, having not had a rest day for nearly 3 weeks!


Monday it had rained through the night again. We had wanted to go to Roche Rhonde to check out the 4 pitch routes there but driving up that valley it was too wet. So we stopped off in Tarascon for a look around the village and found an amazing French style Healthfood shop were RB and I bought lovely soaps scented with oils, some ginger sweeties and lots of nice, organic chocolate. We then found a curiosity shop and I bought myself a cow eggcup and RB bought herself an Ariege plaque.

The forecast for the next day was finally looking clear again so we decided to go check out the routes that Andy had found when he went for his walk. We got some info from John about French descriptions and prayed that the forecast would hold true.
It turned out that the forecast was clear. But it was bloody freezing! The outside temperature was 2 degrees in the morning and when we pulled up at the Col du Puymorens, it wasn't much warmer and there was ice on the paths! It was thermal time, wooly hats and gloves! This route was 9 pitches long and I could see walking up that it was in shade, being North facing and I just knew it was going to be cold up there all day. RB had come to France with a slight cough and it had gotten slowly worse over the course of the week. She was determined she wanted to do something, but there was no way I could drag her up there and have a big, long day. I felt torn between making sure she was okay, wanting to do the route myself and not wanting Andy to be disappointed, and not wanting RB to feel she was letting anybody down! So as usual I make it as easy for her as possible to back out gracefully without her feeling badly about it. She feels happy, I feel happy cos I know she doesn't feel pressurised and she's not going to feel pushed when she isn't feeling too good, and is tired. And Andy seemed seemed okay with just going for a walk. So we were all good!

So, we just walked up to the Pic De La Mine at 2683m. I was feeling great and steaming on ahead, then waiting for the others to catch up. I felt really good and didn't seem to feel the altitude at all. I was a little slower once we got to the steeper top and was puffing more than usual, but it didn't feel hard going and I really enjoyed it. The views from the top were amazing, right into the east and west basins and mountains as far as you could see. We could even see a small glacier far, far in the distance. We ate at the summit and took some pics, but didn't hang round for ages as it was pretty cold. The sun would beam down from the South and would feel warm but your back would feel icy cold!
We got back to the apartment around 3ish and wanting to make the most of the finer weather in the valley and my last day, Andy and I went back to Auzat, leaving RB to rest and read and laze in the house. We spent a couple of hours climbing at the Far West Sector where Andy led a 5c, a 5c+ and a 6a. I only did the 5c, and just on toprope, the granite slabby bit looking hard! Turned out that was the easy bit and I rested on the rope going through an overlap, but I just got my feet muddled. It was a really nice route! The other two routes looked nails for the grade though!
Our last day was spent driving back to the airport at Girona. We took a different road this time, via Perpignan, driving through the Cathar region of France. This took us through some stunning scenery! Trees and trees and trees, valleys and deep gorges, rounded hills with limestone cliffs and towers, castles sitting a top. It was a long and winding drive (though not hairy!) and we stopped off on the way for lunch, experiencing the French version of a roadside Diner. It was disgusting!
We were given bread with olive oil. The oil was cheap and seemed a bit pale and rancid and the bottle was all dirty and sticky. The buffet consisted of limp lettuce, with black bits, dirt and flies encrusted on it! Andy had chips and chicken which he seemed to like and RB and I had a bowl of greasy pasta carbonara, with half a raw egg sat on top. There was no way in hell I was mixing their raw egg into it, and risking food poisoning! As it was neither of us ate much of the pasta, I declined pudding and RB tried some Fromage thing, which she reckoned was off. Andy ate his pudding, seemingly oblivious to how disgusting the place was! The toilet was utterly gross and had a shower next door which was a rank shade of brown. The hand dryer consisted of a cloth towel that you pull round and round. Only it seemed that each piece of cloth had been used again and again, and it was impossible to find a clean section, each bit you pulled through being grey and grotty and stained with dirt. When the owners dusty dogs came into the cafe, that was the final straw, ugh!
Although, I have to admitt, the dogs were lovely! And I couldn't resist stroking them, all 3 of them and giving Dad dog a cuddle he was such a sook! Of course, this left my hands with a coating of dusty, dog stoor on them which I couldn't wash off and had to spit out water onto my hands from my platupus which was in the car.
A journey of over 12 hours (after getting lost just before Stirling! Took the road to Falkirk and don't know how I managed it!) saw me dropping off RB in her Dad's in Dundee. Home, sweet home now. Sick of rock! Roll on winter!
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