I arrange to do a short (9 day) trip to France to catch the tail end of Maryse's Festival Saint-Savin and see the solar eclipse in Spain.

6 Aug

I BART to SFO and take Frenchbee to Paris Orly.

7 Aug

The plane (Airbus 350) lands at 4:20 PM and parks on the fringe of the airport. After a long delay, buses takes us to terminal 4.

Orly is still unpleasant. Bad signage, little seating, poor eating options, power outlets that don't work. The Departure monitors only show the terminal you're in. I eat at the same MacDonald's as last year; it hasn't improved.

I forgot my euro AC adapter and buy a new one. The SIM card I bought is missing the SIM card. Tello is supposed to have free data roaming, but it doesn't work (update: it mysteriously starts working the next day).

Getting from terminal 4 to terminal 1 should be easy, but it's not. I fly Volotea Orly to Lourdes, 8:30PM, arr 10PM. Maryse is there.

8 Aug

I drive with Maryse to Arras-en-Lavedan, the site of tonight's concert. Some kind of street festival is going on in Argeles, and they've (inexplicably) blocked various roads into the hills, so we have to explore, and eventually take a lengthy detour.

I attend the rehearsal with Claire (violin) and Flore (viola de gamba). Flore kind of takes charge.

Rosine arrives. We all go to lunch at Le Kairn bookstore/cafe. Karin, the imposingly Amazonian proprietor, is there. I resist the urge to challenge her at arm-wrestling.

We return to Silhen and rest. When we return for the concert, c. 6PM, it's raining torrentially. Muddy water is gushing from the sewer drains.

In spite of the weather, there's a good-sized audience at the concert, and they're wildly enthusiastic.

Claire gives an absolutely amazing performance of a violin concerto. Normally kind of meek, she builds to a ferocious and thrilling climax, as if possessed. I briefly talk to her afterward; she completely deflects the compliment. Kinda weird.

After the concert it's still raining, and lightning flashes in the distance.

We move to the adjacent art gallery for a reception. Hannah's (the oboe player) parents are there, all the way from Holland, even though she's not playing this year. Frank (who I met last time) recently put up another exhibit for black-and-white prints. We chat about lighting color. The giant eyeball, projected on the adjacent tower, is still there,

9 Aug

Maryse and I hike down to the river (Gave de Pau). It's swollen and muddy from yesterday's rain. We return via the hilltop.

10 Aug

We drive (me at the wheel) across the Pyrenees to the town of Plan in Spain. The car (Peugot mini-SUV, 2006) senses speed limits and beeps when you exceed them, even by 1 kph. This is irritating, especially because the limits change capriciously and are often very low. But getting a speeding ticket would be bad, so I play by the rules.

Google gives us a few route options. We pick one going through Bagneres-de-Bigorre, which looks shorter and more scenic than the highway route. It is in fact extremely scenic, going through a huge high-altitude meadow with lots of livestock, but for a long stretch the road is difficult: 1.5 lanes, sinuous, and occasionally steep.

This leads to a bigger road (D929) that goes through the Bielsa tunnel. The tunnel is 3 Km long. It's 2 lanes but kind of narrow. There must have been some head-on collisions because now they operate it as one-way. We have to stop and wait for about 20 min.

After a few miles in Spain we turn L onto the road to Plan. This goes about 15 Km up a narrow valley that becomes more and more spectacular, with limestone cliffs on both sides at least 1000' high, reminiscent of Yosemite.

We get to the (very small) town of Plan. Everything is made of limestone. Our hotel - Casa Rafeleta - is on a narrow alley. We flash back to driving nightmares in Alquezar last year. But we manage to park on a wider street.

The hotel has rave reviews, but it's just OK. There are two employees. If you get breakfast, you have to fill out a form saying what kind of pastry and fruit you want.

The town's two restaurants are closed. Fortunately there's a food cart - cleverly called Plan B - that sells salads, burgers, and even beer! We go there. It's a groovy scene - a garden with picnic tables and 70's rock music. When the proprietor sees I'm American, he directs me to Amanda, who runs an artisanal gift shop. Amanda tells me her life story. She studied Spanish at some east-coast school, went to Barcelona, discovered and fell in love with Plan, met 'the father of her children' (now separated). She's been here c. 30 years. She makes jewelry and ceramics, which she sells in the shop along with other local stuff.

After dinner Maryse and I walk around the town. On the way to the church there's a small fountain with some benches around it. 6 or 8 women of various ages sit around it, talking animatedly.

There are fantastic cloudscapes.

11 Aug

The hotel breakfast is disappointing. I make a ham sandwich. We stop by the (small) food store. Maryse gets some 'tentaculos de cephalopodes' and other weird stuff in small jars. She also gets a pasta salad with tuna, preserved somehow so it keeps at room temperature.

We get a couple of trail maps, which present a dizzying array of options. Many of them start at the Refugio Viados, another 10 Km up the valley, via a narrow dirt road.

We get in the car and head up this road. It's a bit harrowing because stretches of it are barely 1 lane. If 2 cars meet, one of them would have to go in reverse for a hundred feet or more, to find a pullout.

The road ends about 1 Km short of the refugio. There's a crude parking lot, which is full. We park in a pull-out a bit down the road (on return there's a notice on the windshield saying we could get a ticket for parking there, although no sign says that).

We hike to the refugio, first up a dirt road (past fields with rows of beehives) then turning L onto a trail.

I've had a dry cough for a couple of days - maybe something I caught on the plane - and this is now a low-grade cold. The main symptom is weakness. I walk slowly, small steps, one foot in front of the other.

The refugio is small. Hikers are drying clothes on a line strung between hiking poles. There's a moderate hill (maybe 500') behind the refugio, with pine trees and rock outcroppings. I suggest that we abandon our more ambitious plan (10 miles, 2200') and just climb the hill.

Near the refugio

Do's and Don'ts

This is a good choice. It's an official trail, color-coded green and white. It goes more or less directly up the hill, without the annoying switchbacks I recently encountered in the north Cascades. There's a stretch of steep bare rock that worries Maryse because of her knee (but it turns out OK).

We stop at a shady spot and eat lunch. The pasta salad is a winner. Maryse stays there; I continue another 250m or so. The trail emerges onto a grassy plateau with nice views. It's not quite the top of hill; that's another ~200' vertical, and would take too long.

Hill top on the left

We descend. Just before the refugio the stream forms a little cascade and pool; Maryse splashes around.

The refugio has a tiny cafe, and a grassy area with seats and tables made from tree stumps. A couple of families with kids are there. A trail goes down, on the far side of the hill, into a grassy valley. This is the red-and-white trail, which in fact is one of the variants of the Camino de Santiago. Occasionally some serious-looking through-hikers come up the hill and take a break.

Maryse gets an espresso and a bag of potato chips. I consider getting a draft beer but decide not to.

We return to Plan, encountering big groups of teen hikers on the 1-lane road. We eat dinner at the Chez Ruche. I get a vaguely Asian dish with onions, peppers, chunks of veal, and a sort of Hoisin sauce; it's not bad.

12 Aug

We want to do a short hike. Just across the river from Plan there's a 60' rock pillar topped by a Spanish flag. We go there. A gravel road goes along the river. We head right (downstream). I don't see how to climb the pillar, but there are low limestone cliffs with a few bolted routes in the 5.9 range.

After 1 Km a steep trail branches off to the left. A sign says that a beer company (whose logo is a chainsaw) donates E0.1 for each bottle sold, to a trail maintenance fund.

We head L onto an amazing trail that goes through a mixed forest (mostly oak), along ancient stone walls covered with moss and various fungi. The mountain in general is pretty steep, but occasionally there are fairly level fields. They're not growing or grazing anything, but there are some farm buildings.

Some kinda fungus

We take the trail branch for La Cascada Lise. This is an area of steep rock; it would be dramatic with water flowing, but there is none now.

We descend. We're parked outside a municipal swimming pool, which has an outdoor cafe and a shady lawn with tables. Maryse gets tonic water, I get a Coke with lots of ice. We sit and watch kids of various ages frolic in the pool.

We drive (2 hours, on mountain roads) to the Hotel Casbas in Senegüé.

The cliffs are about 1500' high

It's right next to the main road, but our room faces away, and is quite nice (and air-conditioned!).

I notice that the room's smoke detector chirps every few minutes. It's not as loud as a 'dead battery' chirp, but it's enough to interfere with sleep. I take a look at it. It's wired into the ceiling: no battery.

I go downstairs. There's no one at the front desk, but the guy at the bar offers to help. He looks and sounds like Manuel from 'Fawlty Towers': a little out of his depth with everything. We go upstairs and listen. Several minutes go by without a beep. Manuel leaves, emphasizing that he's 'only a barman'.

I open it up again. There are no switches. A couple of wires, stripped at the end, lead into a block on the circuit board. It looks like these should pull out, but they don't.

So I do the logical thing: get my nail clippers and cut one of the wires. The moment I do, the building-level fire alarm goes off. I try unsuccessfully to reconnect the wire. I go out in the hall; Manuel is running up the stairs. He looks in the utility closet, but doesn't know what to do. We go downstairs. He makes a phone call, punches some numbers into a console, and the alarm stops. He gives a thumbs-up, and doesn't ask any questions about what the hell I did up there.

After a few minutes, the defiant detector chirps again. I give up. That night I sleep with TP earplugs, and it doesn't keep me awake.

We're in a fairly mountainous area, and it's cloudy; so we've pretty much given up on the eclipse, which begins at 7:30PM with totality at 8:30, just before sunset. At ~6PM we drive to Sabiñánigo (10km) where there are a few restaurants. On the outskirts of town there is in fact a hill with a view to the west that extends down to the horizon.

The Cafe Aquario is closed. We go to the nearby Parenthesis. They're open but don't serve dinner until > 8 PM. We have a drink and a couple of tasty croquettes.

At ~7:30 we head back to the hill, park on a dirt road with lots of other cars, and sit in a field. We put on our eclipse glasses. Sure enough, the sun is already about half covered by the moon. We keep watching. The sun is reduced to a tiny sliver, and then it seems to disappear. But it doesn't get dark; just a slighly dim twilight.

Then a sliver appears on the opposite site. Cars start to drive off. Apparently we were not quite in the area of totality. Oh well. Spain has eclipses in 2027 and 2028, then nothing until 2050.

After the eclipse

We return to the Parenthesis, which is now crowded. I have a disappointing salad topped with bacon and deep-fried chicken shreds. Maryse has a slightly better salad with fresh tuna.

13 Aug

We drive over the Pyrenees, back to Silhen, via Lourdes. We have coffee in the hotel, then stop at a bakery on the road. The route is mostly a winding 2-lane through big mountains: very scenic, but also slightly stressful driving.

There's water on the floor of the barn kitchen. Maryse and Rosine are concerned that this might be some kind of foundation leak. Workers come out a couple days later and find that rats have chewed through a PVC pipe. (Still need to pull up some flooring to fix it).

Dan and family (Cori, Catrin, Caleb) arrive, pretty wiped out after the train ride from Paris and the schlep to get the rental car. Caleb somehow scratched Dan's eye during a diaper change in Paris. They were able to find an opthamologist at 4:30 AM, who checked the eye and prescribed an antibiotic.

14 Aug

Thomas and Virginie return. Olivia and her BF Frederic arrive. Frederic is an IT guy, learning Kubernetes. Big family dinner.

15 Aug

Maryse and I drive to top of Hautacam; memories of my partial bike ascent are vivid. It's pretty much socked in. We walk along a dirt road that continues 1 mile beyond the pavement. The fog is dynamic: it will lift, revealing dramatic higher peaks in the distance, than return in a few seconds.

A few seconds later you couldn't see anything

We hear distant thunder, turn around, and walk quickly back to the car.

16 Aug

We have lunch with Dan and family. I pack up and Maryse drives me to the airport in Lourdes. Sitting in the car, I check my flight on my phone; it's delayed 45 min, which kills any chance of making the connection. I call Frenchbee, but they can't help: I stupidly bought a no-change, no-refund ticket. Oh well.

Maryse departs. In the terminal, I buy a Frenchbee ticket for the next day ($800) and also reserve and pay for (via a discount web site, Trivago) a room at the Orly Novotel.

I arrive at Orly terminal 1 and try to navigate to the hotel. Google Maps is nearly useless, and of course there are no signs anywhere. I end up going along narrow sidewalks next to busy roads. It's hot and stressful. Eventually I reach the hotel. The reception has my reservation from Trivago but not the payment- WTF? So I pay again.

The room is nice, though the air conditioning only goes down to about 76 deg. I get an IPA and a slightly bizarre hummus platter at the restaurant, chat with Maryse, and retire.

17 Aug

The breakfast buffet is exemplary. Pretty much everything you can think of. Two push-button espresso machines. Tiny skillets where you can make your own eggs.

I ask about a shuttle to the airport, and it turns out there's a walkway that goes directly there, over all the car traffic. I missed it last night because there was no sign for it.

I explore Terminal 4 looking for a power outlet. There's one next to a seat at the far left end (as you face it). I work for a while.

The Frenchbee check-in finally opens. There are kiosks but - surprise! - they won't issue my boarding pass. I stand in line for a human.

The security thing is brief but irritating. At several points there are those zig-zag barriers where you're forced to walk needlessly, like cows in a feed lot. I resist the urge to go under or around; I'd probably end up being questioned in a windowless room.

I emerge from the bleak security maze into the usual gamut of brightly-lit perfume and make-up stores - WTF?? After that there's a sort of atrium mall with more useless high-end stores and some unacceptable eating options. I go to a place that claims to sell 'smash burgers', but these turn out to be 1mm-thick layers of some kind of fried beef by-product residue.

In terminal F, there's an upright Kawai piano near the gate. A girl is vainly trying to remember Fur Elise. She leaves and I play the Rach song and Glass Opening. After me, a teenager is waiting. He's technically not bad, but plays mostly schlock.

The flight is delayed by an hour. I get confused about the timing; it looks like I'll arrive after midnight, when BART has stopped. I text Brian Tang in a panic, and he offers to pick me up.

The flight is ~10 hrs but seems way longer. The in-flight entertainment sucks. I do crossword puzzles until I hate them. My cold flares up and my nose runs like a leaky faucet. My gut aches; I don't feel like eating anything.

I arrive around 9:30, text Brian, take BART, and walk the last km, stopping to get beer. The BAMC potluck was here in my absence, and they left the place looking beautiful. It's great to be home.

Travel to/from Europe in economy class is increasingly unpleasant for me. I'm going to have to ponder the cost/benefit of these trips.