Walking in the Pyrenees
Camping on a sheep farm, we decided to make an expedition along a nearby ridge. 'Some parts of this walk are slightly exposed,' said the guidebook. Well, that'll be fine with a 7 year old, right? After all, it's in the local book of walks.

So I set off with 2 teenagers and a 7 year old. As we stepped off the road on to the first track we saw a sign: Missing - dwarf goats. We tramped along the leafy tracks, climbing higher and higher. We could see large birds circling above us, and soon we got to a flattish area where there must have been 40 vultures pecking at some dark shapes. We'd found the missing dwarf goats.

We continued - the kids started complaining as it was hot, but then we started to see lizards everywhere, and we crested a rise that gave us a view into the peaks of the Pyrenees - incredible. So with a second wind we pushed on, losing count of the lizards we saw. The ridge loomed ahead of us, looking grassy and welcoming. The 7 year old and his big brother rushed ahead. It turns out that the ridge was extremely exposed - very steep either side, with a little crest of rock about a foot's width wide. The boys were scrambling on ahead, loving it, while I worried after them with their sister chatting away happily. If this is a 'slightly exposed' walk for the locals then I didn't want to see the difficult ones!

We stopped for lunch on a rocky outcrop big enough for us all to sit down. The land dropped away on either side for several hundred metres. We could see our tent, a long way away and a long way down. It really was hot, we had no shade, and we'd run out of water, but the map showed me that at the end of the ridge was a drinking trough, so we pushed on. Eagles were soaring all round us - above our heads, and below us, skimming the steep slopes. Most of the time I couldn't see the boys, just heard their delighted shouts as they found another exciting rock to climb around.

After a couple of hours the ridge flattened out, we dropped down onto a saddle, and sure enough there was the drinking trough, surrounded by cows. We pushed gently through them, finding a trickle of water coming out of a plastic pipe. It was the sweetest water I'd ever tasted, made all the better with the calm lowing of the cows all around us.

From there it was an easy stroll over springy grass back to the tent, passing a chain of 8 little watermills on the way, with a bored teenager who gave us a guided tour for 1 Euro. The last little village we passed through had a beautiful well, with clear water sparkling into a long channel which ran around a little square, shady with hanging flower baskets.

We got back to the tent: I was exhausted. The kids were jumping around reliving the vultures, lizards, the ridge, the eagles, the cows. "Can we do it again tomorrow?" Truly the great outdoors.
(Smale is stuffed, Tue 3 Apr 2012, 9:16, 2 replies)

I too have drunk the yummy water.
It got me my own 3 year Flagyl-resistant strain of giardiasis which was written up by "my" head of anti-bacterial at the local hospital. (They even tested my poo for its' unique DNA).

Enjoy.
Some analog of quinine eventually managed to kill it but I had to get it imported from the UK, It wasn't approved by the TGA and cost me a lot of money.
(Misery McUglywife an attention seeking sociopathic fuckstain., Tue 3 Apr 2012, 10:15, closed)

smug story is smug.
i kept hoping one of your kids was going to fall to its death or be eaten by vultures :(
( janet aylia y'all motherfuckers need jesus, Tue 3 Apr 2012, 16:59, closed)