The sun beats down relentlessly on Montauban. With temperatures in the high thirties, low forties, it was time to escape.
The Pyrénées has been used for escaping the rigours of life over many centuries. We (that is Annick and I with Annick’s mum and Evil Lynne) (oops, Evelyn) simply wanted no more than to escape the heat and relax. This time, however, we decided to go on a little adventure. We headed off into Spain, to a village called Canejan. We passed through Saint-Béat, a village all but wiped out two years ago by flash flooding of the Garonne river when it burst its banks.
Almost every business in this riverside village was destroyed.
But work is ongoing to bring it back to life.
Two elderly locals lost their lives.
It is only now regaining some of its vibrancy.
We arrived in Canejan after a somewhat hairy drive up a narrow lane with the usual precipitous drops to the side.
This beautiful hillside village is nestled high up on the side of the Aran Valley, Catalonia, about 40 minutes from our little bolt-hole in the Pyrénées.
Its views are stunning
and vertiginous.
Its buildings perched dangerously
and sometimes colourfully.
There has long been a mountain border trail connecting Canejan with France, used in the Spanish Civil war by those trying to reach the rebel forces, later by those trying to escape Franco’s rule, and then by hundreds escaping Nazi occupation.
All this adventuring caused Maman some degree of tummy troubles, so we paused our return to dine in the hillside French village of Melles
partaking of a drop or two of vin rouge at the same time.
Thus we managed to cool down somewhat, the weather being between ten and twenty degrees cooler and significantly wetter.
The storm over, I had time for my favourite pastime, walking the dogs…
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