In The "Hautes Pyrenees"

July 27, 2015

     I was up early and out the door by 8:00 a.m., eager to be start my road trip through the Pyrenees, which will last eleven days and take me to Hautes Pyrenees from today through next Monday, when I will turn south and head for Prades, closer to home.

      My base is Tarbes, the home of the Haras National, French center of horse breeding.  I decided to come here this week when I saw an advertisement for Equestria, a week-long celebration of the horse which Tarbes has been sponsoring for the last 20 years.  I have no particular plan here, except  to visit the Musee Massey, a museum devoted to art and the history of the hussars, see the horse spectacle, and visit the museum devoted to Marechal Foch, the World War I general, all to be done tomorrow.

      Wednesday I would like to go to "Pau" (pronounced like "paw", but with a shorter "a"), where Henry IV, the king who united his home province of Bearn with the rest of France, and in so doing, became one of France's most celebrated monarchs, was born.  Pau is also the home of a well-regarded university and is said to be the loveliest town in the Pyrenees.

      Thursday I think I will go to Lourdes, with some trepidation.  I fear seeing desperately ill people seeking a miracle, but I am also intrigued by the idea of bathing in the famous waters.  Whether you are Roman Catholic or not, Lourdes is held to be a lovely town in the mountains.

       If I am feeing ambitious, Friday I will go to the end of the Pyrenees chain, to Saint Jean Pied-de-Port, where pilgrims on the Camino de Santiago begin their walk across the Pyrenees into Spain.  I tried to walk the Camino from there in 2013, but got stymied by the SNCF, which had been reserved months before by parents planning spring holidays during the three weeks in April when schools all over France close.

        For now, though, I'm relaxing at the apartment of my airbnb hostess, Michele Pico.  She lives in a ground floor apartment on Place Marcadieu, a nice enough plaza across from which stands the town market building.  Michele is making rabbit stew for myself and two other guests, one another airbnb visitor, the other a friend.  Having been behind the wheel much of the day, it's very nice to have a home-cooked meal to start my stay.

       I drove as far as Loudenvielle, high in the mountains, to spend a few hours at Balnea, a thermal spring that boasts having every type of bath developed by five civilizations --Roman, the American Indian, Incan, the Middle Eastern and Japanese.  For 18 Euros a visitor is given a two hour pass and a towel, a very reasonable exchange, as the baths are a sybarite's dream.  The Japanese baths are outdoors have three warm temperatures (the hottest being 40C) and are a maze of narrow channels; the Incan are outdoor pools with powerful upward propulsion of the mineral waters; the Amerindian are one big indoor bath, and the Roman are a series of hot and cold pools; the Middle Eastern contribution is a hammam, or sauna.  After four hours on the road, it was the perfect way to take a break.

        Before reaching Loudenvielle I stopped for a coffee and to write postcards in Arreau, a picture-perfect village that attracts hikers from July 15- August 15 and skiers from November through February.  The day was cloudy and cool, making the green of the pines and the coldness of the stream that runs through the village sharpen the colors of the rocks.  It was a big like being in Brigadoon: Arreau is beautiful, remote and other-worldly.  I bought some cheese made by local fromagers and found a coffee at the London Bar down the street from the Mairie, enjoying writing postcards like any conscientious tourist, as well as the reward of a coffee.

      Tarbes, well down the mountains from Loudenvielle, is a 19th century garrison town, with stable buildings and carriage houses with gables everywhere.  There are plenty of modern low-rise apartment buildings, and a main shopping street, but I can't think why anyone would live here who was not associated with the French Army (this is the home of a garrison of parachutists)  or the horse-breeding or one of the businesses that serves those communities.  Nonetheless, walking around Tarbes streets it is easy to imagine light cavalry officers swaggering around town, making local daughters' hearts beat faster, and worrying their mothers.