Today we climbed our first real Col, variously known as Col d’Iraty or Col de Bargagui passing over Col de Burdencurutcheta along the way. After a lot of apricot jam on our bread we rolled around from Baigorri to St Jean de Pied de Port. Not yet fully fit, the first little hill out of Baigorri caused some pain before we warmed up. At St Jean – a tourist town still busy in the dead of the off-season – we dealt with another puncture on Fiona’s bike, bought a picnic, ate a first lunch and set off for what turned out to be a long afternoon.

A gently ascending road took us through the middle of a pleasant valley under autumn sun. In the far distance the valley closed in to high but friendly looking tops. After about 5 k the road took the right side of the valley to get to work on the climb. A new placard erected for the benefit of cyclists by the Department Pyrénées Atlantiques uncaringingly announced what was before us: on a shiny white background under an ideogram of a cyclist going up hill it said, more or less: Col d’Iraty 1327m, 17km, average gradient 6.x%, gradient this kilometre 11%.

11%! And the shade didn’t last long. And the second kilometre sign was posted 11.5%
Under a sun no longer autumnal we struggled in and out of the saddle, weaving back and forth across the tarmac to reduce the immediate pain. Each of us wondered how long we could sustain a climb like this.

But the sun didn’t last. Soon it was getting windy, and rain wasn’t far off, and the higher we went the stronger it blew and the closer came the rain. We sheltered against a bank to eat lunch, and put on full rain gear. Crossing the saddle at the top of Col de Burdencurutcheta it was so windy that I saw Fiona blown over in front of me, although later she couldn’t remember it happening. The descent would have been exhilarating but for battling a fierce headwind.

As quickly as it appeared the storm subsided, leaving the tarmac shining in the sun and yellow and plum leaves dripping. From the Champ de Cize we turned north for the final climb through a magnificent beech forest, le forêt d’Iraty, past two tiny lakes and a deserted campground, with gingerbread-man log cabins half hidden in among the tree trunks. [Cycloiste has a photo which I think is near here in summer]. Greg waited for Fiona and I at the peak, a chalet and cross country ski run waiting for winter animation.

A rapid winding descent, first 5k on the open hillside, [a bit like this], and then a magical 5 km inside a tunnel of trees arching over the road, a sputtering creek beside, took us to the short climb to Larrau, today having not gone as far as we thought we might.

We stopped for the night at a marvellous Logis de France. Greg’s birthday was an excuse for a glass of champagne, and our Korean waiter guided us to the best choices on the menu. French cities and Provence are very multicultural of course, but you don’t expect to see anyone much but French and Basque paysans around here…

19 October 06
I’m still waking early but today feel vague and unfoccussed. Spoke to mum on the phone, she sounds pretty dreadful. She’s having the celiac plexus necrolytic block tomomrrow [an injection to kill the nerve centre near her lower spine which govern the nerves her tumour is pushing against.]

The road from Larrou starts steeply down in high open country and then becomes a more gentle descent along a river. Turning East across a plateau we discovered a fantastic biolgique bakery alone in a hamlet, seed bread, walnut bread, baguettes; we had quiche and mini pizza’s on the spot. We took a detour to avoid the Col de Marie Blanc. This was our plan to start with, but it was reinforced by our slow progress yesterday and F.s unpleasant time with the wind, rain and climbing. This route took us through the Bois de Biele, a pleasant climb, a pleasant descent. It rained only once – when we stopped for lunch.

In the late afternoon we were heading south along the banks of a river born in the heights ahead on the border with Spain. Our road was surprisingly busy – it lead to a long tunnel to spain. We crossed to the quieter Eastern bank at Arudy and found an ancient lady running an ancient café. We took on this side of the bank a cute back road passing through tiny hamlets squashed between the mountain and the river, and then cleverly navigated inchwise up the side of the valley, across a plummeting stream, and steeply up for 4 k thus gaining Eaux Bonnes by avoiding Larruns. Or so we thought.

Eaux Bonnes is a spa town – village – lifted more or less directly from the 19th century. Most buildings are built on the outside of a circuit made up of two roads slanting up the mountain in parallel with a park between. The spa buildings are tucked into the northern valley wall, while hotels and once elegant residences face them. But the town was completely shut up, none of the 9 hotels open. There’s one tiny café, and a real estate agency where a woman phones a few local bed and breakfast places for us but can’t find anything open closer than Larruns. For the second time in our trip, as yet only 4 days old, we descend a steep 5+ k to our lodging knowing we must ride back up the next day! Larruns is only 40k south of Pau, and 28k north of Spain.

Notes
There is a bike shop, Maya sport, in St Jean, contrary to the LP guide.

See M. Cycloiste snapped at the Col in better weather than we had!
And here he is reviewing the maps with ‘le papa de Giles’. Every picture…