Explore nature's Colosseum in the Pyrenees

Rhiannon Batten finds mystery and marvels in the Pyrenees

(GETTY IMAGES)

“It’s an incredible sight, truly one of the most spectacular things you will see.” I was in Avezac-Prat-Lahitte, a village in the foothills of the Pyrenees. I’d just watched a tractor pull a trailer-load of wedding guests around the village’s steep, narrow streets, flouting all manner of road-safety rules. Many were dancing to loud techno music as they went. But this wasn’t what the owner of the local bar-tabac was talking about. He meant the Cirque de Gavarnie, a vast glacial bowl sculpted from the Pyrenean rock around 40km from here.

The Cirque de Gavarnie was as dramatic as I’d been promised. The 1,400m high and 890m wide landmark has impeccable credentials: it lies within the Parc National des Pyrénées, and is part of the Pyrénées-Mont Perdu Unesco World |Heritage Site. It also boasts France’s highest waterfall: in full flow the chute d’eau cascades for 422m.

The waterfall isn’t the only attraction. The top of the cirque marks the border with Spain and, for visitors seeking the most dramatic cross-border hike, the ultimate goal is the Brèche de Roland, a huge gap-toothed void in the cirque’s rocky grin.

The brèche takes its name from a local legend. This insists that the cleft was struck out by Roland, a nephew of Charlemagne, as he tried to demolish his magic sword, Durandal, in order to stop it falling into enemy hands. However it came to be there, the result is extraordinary. Reached over glaciers and via an arduous climb, the “doorway” opens up a vast panorama into Spain, with its wide scree desert, dense forest and the Ordesa canyon beyond often tinted by rosy-hued golden sunlight.

Understandably these attractions have made the cirque a target for tourists and mountaineers since access to the Pyrenees opened up in the late 19th century. Victor Hugo was apparently so moved by a visit to it that he excitedly pronounced it “the most mysterious of buildings, by the most mysterious of |architects; it’s nature’s Colosseum, it’s Gavarnie!”

I had to wait, though. I was visiting Avezac-Prat-Lahitte during the coldest and wettest September the villagers could remember. Most of my week was spent venturing through downpours to the nearest farmers’ market to stockpile cheese, bread, wine, honey cake and logs for the fire. But, finally, on my penultimate day, the sun broke through the clouds and the mountains glinted, their spiky white peaks spearing deep blue sky. It was time to tackle the cirque.

First, I made a detour to catch the cable car up to the Pic du Midi, a mountain-top observatory. Here, I took in the immense landscape of mountains and lakes from above before zigzagging towards the Spanish border along precipitous roads flecked with chalked graffiti from the previous year’s Tour de France.

The small village of Gavarnie makes an obvious base camp from which to approach the cirque. It’s popular with day-trippers visiting the waterfall and is a popular starting point for climbers attempting to scale nearby Vignemale (3,298m), the highest of the French Pyrenean summits. My guidebook had warned me that Gavarnie was a “tacky collection of ramshackle souvenir kiosks and snack bars”. It is definitely a little over-subscribed. But after my weather-enforced detention, or maybe just because I avoided the midsummer scrum, its shabby grandeur seemed more charming than crass.

Once past a parade of grand and once-grand houses, I left the village along the riverbank, resisting the temptations of a string of pavement cafés. The main route leads to the waterfall along a well-made track, but I took a quieter path instead, following neat wooden signs to the Refuge de Pailha, one of a network of basic hikers’ huts that are spread across the Pyrenees.

The path became narrower as it rose, leading eventually into a forest. Before I headed into the trees, I turned back to look down at the sun-soaked valley. A vision of grassy pastures and old stone houses, the only sound was the faint crescendo of cowbells as a large herd of velvety, cream-coloured cows was navigated down a lane far down below me.

From the shade of the fir trees, I emerged blinking at Pailha plateau, surrounded by the sort of scene that plasters the wares of Gavarnie’s souvenir stalls. Continuing along the path, I reached the locked-up Refuge de Pailha and then descended along a dramatic ledge path, pressing myself tightly to the rock below a huge overhang. Soon afterwards, I got my first glimpse of the cirque – an amphitheatre of epic proportions. In the spring its waterfall crashes down in one long drop, but by the autumn, it separates into two mighty tiers.

At its foot is the ghostly Hotel du Cirque et de la Cascade, once a rendezvous for mountaineers but now only open as a restaurant in high summer. Through its windows, I could see signs of an old tiled floor and an elegant wooden bar.

I had intended to go on to the Brèche de Roland, but the sun had started to dip behind the cirque: I’d left it too late. Instead, I drifted slowly down the valley back to Gavarnie, across the streams and meadows of the Plateau de la Prade, vigilantly avoiding the odd crème-caramel-coloured cow as I went.

As I turned to look back at the cirque, I saw a low mist draping itself around the rockface and silently approaching, seeming to chase me from the valley. The mysterious landscape was living up to its reputation.

TRAVEL ESSENTIALS

Getting there

* The nearest airport to Gavarnie is Lourdes, served by Ryanair (0871 246 0000; ryanair.com ) from Stansted and, from April, by bmibaby (0905 828 2828; bmibaby.com ) from Manchester. Alternatively, you can travel by train from London St Pancras to Lourdes via Paris in under nine hours (08705 186 186; eurostar.com ).

Getting around

* One week’s car hire from Lourdes airport costs from around £191 through holidayautos.co.uk .

Staying there

* The writer paid £200 for a one-week stay at Maison Verdier in Avezac-Prat- Lahitte. For more information on the Gavarnie region, see holiday-rentals.co.uk/p733461