Spain - Day 23: Lac Obago to Espot

Morning lake

In the morning we discovered where the cows had got to. Basically, they had slept on the grass next to our tents. Luckily they were vegetarians at night.

Once we started moving they did too and wondered off back up various tracks to find what must be the best grass. To us we couldn't see what was wrong with the grass where they were. But at the end of the day they are the cows and know best.

We watched a group of runners come up the valley and set off up the climb. Running. One woman and three guys. She was the leader and the last of the guys was dropping off the back. Hats off to them. Not only running up mountains but considering the terrain.  We were impressed.

Just the view...

After decamping we climbed up to the col a deceptive little climb that looked much shorter than it really was. But can't complain at least we don't have to run. I mean we tried but we are a bit overweight.

Once we reached the Port de Ratiera. Where have all the cols gone? The camping opportunities, referred to in the book, became obvious, after the rocky climb the landscape opened up to reveal what could almost be described as a lush mountain meadow.

I say almost because the grass was short, the ground rocky and it was liberally covered in cow shit of varying degrees of dryness. You could have camped - but getting a peg in...?

Ibons everywhere

Just over the top where we stopped to have breakfast. It had been too cold at our campsite so breakfast, as often happens, is left until we find the sun - or at least get more warmed up. We met an English lady who was walking in the high mountains, on her own. A braver person than us we decided.

Breakfast is coming...

The way down was dotted with yet more bloody lakes. Much to our surprise you can get sick of beautiful mountain lakes nestled in stunning mountain scenery. But we soldiered on. The weather was good, sunshine and clear.

We should have taken this as a warning.

Happy people

There is a campsite just before Espot but we missed the entrance and despite the pool that we saw the way in involved walking back up the hill a little. No way Jose as they say. So on we went.

Espot is a thin village squeezed between the steep valley sides with a small river running through the center. We found the campsite in the village. Someone's big garden basically. I picked the wrong camping spot.

Surprise selfie

The owners were not unfriendly but seemed to view campers as a necessary evil. Odd, a smile costs so little and goes so far. But we showered and dyed and laundried and dried. And off to find something to eat. It was still early afternoon. We found a nice looking bar / cafe in the square and sat and ate. The barman was really nice and the food was great. We had a beer and Fanta Lemon (#Why?) then retired back to the tents for a nap.

Another bloody lake

Dinner, well we went back to the same place. It was nice and a smile does go a long way.

Dying

We got into our sleep bags and, and the heavens opened. In the mountains you can't see the weather coming. And what a weather came. It thundered and lightninged and pissed down all night.

We were happy to be in a sheltered spot down in the valley near buildings that were taller and had lightning conductors attached.

It was an amazing storm.

Water stop

While our tents didn't leak that doesn't mean we stayed dry. Because of the wind and rain, everything was zipped up tight. So our own breath condensed on the inside of the outer tent.

Now on our ultra light tents the inner tent is mainly mesh as you have seen. So every time a big drop of rain (and there were lots of them) or hail (and there was a lot of ice) hit the tent it caused the condensed breath to spray us. A tent with a shower. Not enough to really wet you. but enough to keep you awake.

Another of those cool bridges

But we eventually fell asleep. Well we repeatedly fell asleep. As the storm repeatedly woke us up.