Neither the weather forecast for today or for my feeling wasn’t good. Again it was supposed to rain most of the day. I couldn’t fall asleep last night and woke up about four in the morning feeling nauseous. This didn’t bode well. I thought that maybe after breakfast I’d feel better. I did but not significantly. I put the waterproofs over my shorts and went out anyway, but took it really easy. I wanted to go towards Refugio de Respumoso. Initially it wasn’t too bad, but when I reached the first stream crossing from yesterday (it was so much easier to cross today) I started feeling both my knees. The good news was that it brightened up and got really warm, so I took off the over-trousers, rubbed in some Voltarol and sun-cream. As the path started going up and I began to slow down. All those magnificent views kept me going. In fact, they were simply awe-inspiring.

When I get to the first Azule the colours are just stunning! They called those lakes ‘blues’, but they are really green. I guess it’s one of those never ending arguments about what’s blue and what’s green. Whatever it is, it’s stunning! I get to the upper lake with the speed of a snail. It’s not an exaggeration. My knees are killing me. I watch some crazy people diving in. This makes me wonder. If I stand in that water for a few minutes, it would be like a cold compress and should ease the pain. I find a nice rock to sit down and take my boots off. ‘Ouch’ is not the expression that I used when I dipped my foot in. I learned to swim in mountain rivers and streams, but this lake is ice-cold! I keep forgetting how high I am. The upper Azules at over 2400 m. There was no chance to stand in this water. My feet were just too sensitive. I tried to dip in just one knee at a time and this seemed to work. At least, it brought some temporary pain relief.

I kept wondering if I should go any further. The path climbed up steadily, but wasn’t awfully steep and I was tempted. I knew though, that I would have to walk down again and wasn’t looking forward to that with my knees as they were.

Now, this view made me feel a bit better about everything, but especially about my packing. It could always be worse…

I’m glad that I decided to come back. It was hard enough. To be perfectly honest, I literally just made it. I’m not sure if I could walk for another 10 minutes without collapsing. When I got to the refuge, I went straight to bed and set the alarm for six. I thought that if I slept for more than two hours I wouldn’t sleep at night. I fell asleep instantly. I was planning to do some writing, but I really wasn’t in place to do anything apart from getting something quick to eat. Something struck me and I decided to have tea and then only boiled water. I’m not sure why. Literally, a gut instinct. An early night was in order.

On the mountain the Lord will provide

The weather forecast was bad: rain all morning and thunderstorm from about midday. It’s not far to de Bachimaña and I hoped to get there before the thunderstorms. I was on my way at 9 o’clock. At the start of the path, I bumped into Synna and Kristin, Norwegian hikers who I saw on the bus to Panticosa, but they got off before me.

It actually stopped raining and I took off my coat. There were a few drops later, but nothing like the forecast said. When I got to de Bachimaña, after a quick coffee, I managed to watch the Mass. There is a church in Panticosa, but it’s nothing but a building 😞

After I checked in the sky was clear and the walk around the big lake was in order. The views are stunning!

At some point the path crossed the stream. While the weather during the day was mainly dry, it did rain heavily for the last two nights. There was a group of people ahead of me and I saw that they struggled to cross. I eventually found the way without dipping in my boots. My worry wasn’t getting wet, but drying them after.

Then, there was another stream much deeper and much faster and all places where people seem to cross it at least a few of the stones making the path were flooded and it was hard to say how deep under the water the stones were. In the mountains, all distances are deceiving. Anyway, I looked around and couldn’t find a crossing. I started walking up the stream thinking that higher up the stream should be narrower… and the current stronger🙄. I got to the point of invoking help of St. Christopher who is a patron saint of travellers. Funnily enough, the legend says (doesn’t matter that it’s a legend – useful for story telling 🤣) that he was a very big man who devoted himself to carry weak and poor across a river. No, I’m not that disillusioned and I didn’t expect a tall, blue-eyed and handsome to appear and carry me across 🤣 Anyway, an inspiration from St Christopher or anyone else (St. Jude?) would have been appreciated. As I say, I tried walking up the stream – no chance to cross the fast current there. However, I got as far as the third lake and I saw a dam which meant, I could pass there.

My joy was short-lived. After seeing this…

I saw this…

Another half of this dam was overflowing. Dam it! No, it’s not a typo! Though, I only came up with this word play as I was writing. I used a bit more colourful language when I saw it.

I turned to walk back down and just laughed. I checked again all possible crossings, but there was no place where I could cross the stream dry-footed. Then it came to me…

After crossing the stream, I checked de Cabana el Pastor on other side and walked back to de Bachimaña soaking up the views. I even said hello to a marmot or two. I came back the refuge so joyful, even though I pulled a muscle or a ligament under my right knee. Hopefully, it’s not thing massive and Voltarol can deal with it.

On the mountain the Lord will provide

I booked another night at Casa de Piedra and decided to warm up without the big backpack.

The morning was pretty wet and all day was going to be like that, but there were plenty of people geared up for some kind of sports event. I was studying the map as I intended to go out anyway, but the curiosity took the better of me and I asked a couple next to me what’s going on. She told me that they had a mountain marathon! Three different options, in fact: half-marathon, marathon and a relay marathon 🤔 and people call me mad! I might start treating that as an insult 😂

Just after 10 o’clock it stopped raining, so I packed my map and waterproofs and ventured out. It started to clear up a bit. At some point, I heard the helicopter. I looked around. It was definitely a rescue helicopter hovering over the mountains on the other side of the valley. It actually landed on the pass, but soon took off and hovered again over those slopes. I don’t know what happened, but I took some pictures of the helicopter.

It’s a good reminder of a rescue for me. It really made me think of this picture…

Soon, the sun was out and the beautiful views emerged – different with each step up.

When I got to the lake, it was glorious. Actually, it was so hot and clear that I knew that I’d sunburn by the time I got back to the refuge. There was an older French couple changing into shorts. I asked the lady if I could ‘borrow’ some sun cream. I’m used to sharing things on the trial if there is a need, but she didn’t look pleased. With hesitation, she offered me some. I was very grateful because my arms would hurt otherwise.

I walked across the dam and found a path down to the smaller lake that looked gorgeously green.

I stopped there for a while, admiring those incredible colours. When I got back to Panticosa, I popped into the hotel to see Miriam and Mario. She wasn’t working, but it turned out that he worked in SPA. Without thinking much, I booked that last session. I am not a beach person, but soaking in a hot outdoor pool (53°C) with a mountain view was definitely the right thing to do.

On the mountain the Lord will provide

Photo by Andreas Fidler on Unsplash

I’ve always been very aware of the power of words – positive and negative. I try to say what I mean and mean what I say. It’s not always easy and often requires choosing words carefully, but that’s the key to clear and authentic communication – communication with others but also with yourself.
However, we all have – I definitely do – our own sayings that might not be so carefully chosen. Sometimes we make them up, sometimes we borrow them from other people and use them often – sometimes without actually meaning the words that we speak.
A week before my fortieth birthday I was talking to someone about the detailed plans for my birthday weekend. It turned out that there was a change which I didn’t like, to say the least, but I couldn’t do anything about it. I don’t think that I will ever forget the following exchange. I remember exactly where we stood, what time it was and every single word…
I will survive – I said.
Of course, you will survive… This struck me like lightening and I said:
No, no, hang on a moment. I don’t want to survive!
No, you don’t want to survive. You want to thrive – came the answer.
Exactly! And that’s what I’m going to do… I said – out loud but very much to myself.
This chat didn’t take more than 30 seconds but stayed with me for good. Almost instantly I stopped saying I survive – in any tense, in any context and in any language. In fact, I might have not realised the impact of this phrase if the quoted conversation wasn’t in English. Over the last eighteen months or so I got more and more convinced that it wasn’t just a figure of speech. My friend and I had been using this phrase for years. It was like our personal joke, but I think it was shaping my reality more than I realised.

There’s always been that wild and crazy part of me striving for greatness, for truth… for hearing people… for seeing the opportunity, the potential – in people, places, organisations, situations… – and wanting to develop it and build on it; that part of me ready to go against the current, taking the risk, not caring for the price to pay – whether it was time, energy, money… – as long as there was something meaningful and great to create or grow; that part of me that really wanted to make a difference. For a long time, that part of me was awfully shy and often pacified by the one saying You’ll survive. Over the last five years, the balance of these forces has been changing dramatically.
It is like an inner battle and now the survival is being kicked out most of the time. There is no more acceptance of an average, mediocrity. No more acceptance of a maintenance mode. No more thinking ‘It will work out somehow’. I guess that this is some impact of Fr James Mallon’s book, Divine Renovation, on my personal life. What this book did to me in the first place was making me a rebel against the current state of the Church. It caused a very strong sense of dissatisfaction with business as usual and at the same time gave me hope that it could be different. Writing this, I’ve realised that it caused the same dissatisfaction with the maintenance or should I say survival mode in my personal life, too. That’s the feeling which you get when you get to a point when you see so clearly that things are going in the wrong direction, that you need to change the course, and you just know that you don’t want to or even can’t go back. There might not be a clear path ahead – it might still be covered with snow – but you know that you can’t go back on the old one.
It’s all a work in progress…
God gives us life – life to the full, not a long-term survival! He wants us to thrive! He wants us to be happy and satisfied – not just in eternal life but in this one, too. It doesn’t mean there is no more struggle, that everything is nice and easy and that you live happily ever after in a fairy tale style. It’s much more about the reason why I’m here and about knowing the purpose of my life and my being. It’s about doing things because I know who I am and why I am, rather than doing things that will give some sense to my existence. There is a fundamental difference between the two.
Now, the plan is to thrive and help others thrive, too…

The topic of the day is water. Yes, water in all possible forms and shapes.

The weather forecast is not good at all, so I sensibly (do not confuse it with happily) decide not to climb Vignemale. Instead of spending tonight in Vallée de Gaube I will go straight to Cauterets and then Lourdes for Pentecost. It’s another change of plan but if I’m going to stay in the valley overnight and then walk in the rain tomorrow anyway, I might as well go to Lourdes tonight and sing with the choir again in the morning. Though, let’s get it all in order.

I’m not climbing Vignemale but going straight to Refuge des Oulettes de Gaube (2151m). A morning view from de Bayssellance is very different from the one yesterday afternoon. Basically, I walk out the door and almost walk into a cloud… It is windy which isn’t very pleasant but it helps as it keeps the clouds moving, giving me a chance to see something – a path for instance. Almost immediately after I leave the refuge a drizzle starts. Perhaps, I should have put a big black bag over my backpack straight away but never mind.

A path to Hourquette d’Ossoue is pretty much covered in snow but there is no real need for crampons. I know the conditions from yesterday, so I don’t bother.

On the other side of the pass, there is even more snow. I can see some old footprints, so I follow them.

The rain stopped and the wind too which makes walking much more pleasant. After a few minutes, I turn around to see how far I walked. It’s astonishing that what looked so beautiful, majestic and blissful yesterday, today is unwelcoming, ominous and threatening… In the mountains, it can be a matter of minutes not hours but my point isn’t the time. I’m talking about the change itself.

Choosing which footprints to follow is not easy. I need to check constantly whether there are any rock signposts at the end of those footprints. I know where the refuge is but in the mountains (like in life!) there is nothing such as a ‘straight’ path and winter way marking doesn’t seem to exist in the Pyrenees. There is no drama or it isn’t overly tiring but it requires quite a lot of attention and focus. I guess, that I don’t give enough of my attention and energy to look for life waymarkers… perhaps it is a high time to do something about it… I should have a little emoji to mark a ‘pause for thought’ in each post 🤣 I might look for one 😄

As I pass most of the snow I reach a usual rocky path which zigzags down. At the beginning of this post, I mentioned water. I had rain and snow already and now I have a stream that chooses to run exactly on my path! Not across, just snakes down exactly the same way I’m going. It could be a bit more considerate if you ask me. Not being asked though, I choose to walk beside that water which seems to be everywhere. I can cope with this for a while. Will my boots?

Right, now look at this picture ☝️ my path there is nice and clear but – a very big ‘but’ – this naughty stream decided to take it over completely.  There is no chance that I can cross it dry foot. If I stay on the path, of course.

I go a bit below where this stream is still covered in snow which I use as a bridge. This photo actually doesn’t show all the truth because from this side it looks like I could walk across just below or above the path – I could not!

From that point, it doesn’t take long to get to the refuge. I stop there for a bowl (yes, they do bowls rather than mugs!!!) of hot chocolate and a quick charge of my phone. This is my first access to electricity since I left Lourdes!

Stupidly, I didn’t take any pictures inside as the phone was charging but I had a good look around. Apart from some lovely recent and historical photos of the mountains around, there is a piano (!!!) and most importantly a guitar! If I only knew that, I would have walked down here yesterday evening and spent time playing my never forgotten mountain music… I guess, only my Polish friends who walked the mountains with me can understand the pain…

After about half an hour (just about the time for another shower to stop) I put all the gear together and start walking down to Lac de Gaube. I hoped to see Vignemale again before leaving but it’s still covered in heavy clouds. After about an hour of walking I can see a family of four walking up and I want to ask them to take a picture of me (no playing with tripods in this conditions – it’s been raining again) but before I even open my mouth a little boy (must have been a couple of years older than Filip) asks ‘can you speak in English language?’ Relief on his face makes me smile. They want to know how far it is to the refuge. Apart from the father they are not dressed too well for a mountain trip let alone a mountain trip in the rain. He wants to go on Vignemale but I explain the conditions between the two refuges and on Vignemale itself. He thought of going by himself and walking down to the dam where I stayed on Thursday night. In retrospection – I don’t think that he could make it by the end of the day. Only Vignemale takes at least 5 hours from Refuge des Oulettes de Gaube in good conditions. I’m sure that in the refuge they will tell him not to go… Though, I know the feeling of wanting to go… We also have a similar feeling about the quality of waymarking. The family turns out to be Serbian and they say that in their country all the trails are well marked on the trees and rocks not just with piles of stones. It sounds like the system we have in our mountains in Poland. Will my next destination be Serbia? Who knows?

By the time I get to the lake, I pass a couple of mountaineering groups walking up. They are geared up for rock climbing – not the best weekend for that.

It stops raining eventually and I can see a bit of those beautiful waterfalls.

I have a quick look at Cabane du Pinet (1783m). Very simple like most of them but with plenty of wood and a big fireplace.

When I get to Pont d’Espagne, the sun is shining. I take a few pics (now I really miss my camera, s7 is fantastic but has its limitations) and start walking down to Cauterets.

The sign says 1 hour but all the timing here is given for runners, I suppose or people who have no appreciation for the beauty of nature. I stop every now and again to watch the waterfalls, take some photos and videos.

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I have more than plenty of time to catch the last bus to Lourdes. About 3km away from Cauterets it starts to rain again, so I put my jacket back on not thinking much about it. The rain was on and off all day, so it is nothing to contemplate or complain about. I just keep going. Though, 10 minutes later the heavens open and a great thunderstorm starts. I like thunderstorms (in fact I love them!) and I don’t think much, just keep walking but the rain is so heavy that by the time I get to the village, I’m absolutely soaked. Everything but the Goretex is wet in and outside. I planned to get a couple of souvenirs before catching the bus but I’m so wet that I don’t dare to walk to any shops. I even wonder if a bus driver will let me get on in a state I’m in. I’ve got so much water in my boots that I can hear it splashing inside. Perhaps, it’s going to be the end of their life. At the end of the day they are twelve years old (I bought them when I arrived in Wales in May 2005!), walked quite a few mountains and served well on many occasions.

Before the bus arrives I dry a little bit or at least look dryer but by now I start feeling cold.
By 8 p.m. I’m in my hotel room in Lourdes. Everything is very simple and there is quite a bit of noise in the corridor (after a week in silent mountains every noise seems to be even louder) but knowing that I stay the warmth tonight is good enough.

I think that every single person living in a so-called civilised world should go to the wilderness every now and again, and experience the lack of basic comforts like roof above your head, a choice of food to eat, water to drink, hot shower (or any shower for that matter!) just to realise how lucky and blessed we are having all these things in our daily life. Hot shower is a luxury! I really mean it. If you don’t believe, go wild camping for a week.

Praise the Lord! – I have survived the night!
I get up at about 6 o’clock, I guess. The mountains around me are lit by the rising sun and the whole valley seems much more welcoming than when I dragged myself here last night.


I make some tea and have a look around. After a small breakfast, I pack everything and set off for the next long walk.
I have a good few patches of snow to cross today – almost from a start. There still no need for crampons, though. Someone walked this path before me within the last couple of days, so I have footprints to follow. This makes my life easier because the path keeps zigzagging and it’s difficult to see which way it leads on the other side of the snow patch.



The whole mountains very much remind me of our Tatry – just higher – and this path of The Lord of the Rings… The good news is that I’m not climbing to Mordor!

The trail climbs up all the time. I’m not walking very fast. I think that 25 km which I walked yesterday worn me out a bit. Not to mention not sleeping at night…

I’m definitely getting higher now. Very soon I should get near the Grotte de Bellevue. I thought for a moment that I can leave my backpack there and climb on Vignemale but the cave will definitely be covered in snow this time a year.

At some point, I could see a few people climbing up Vignemale but now they disappeared in the clouds. It all doesn’t look as clear as it did earlier on, so perhaps I won’t have a chance to get there today. Now it’s not far to the refuge but when I get there eventually I’m pretty tired.

I get a bed (that’s a luxury!) and have a chat with a guard. I don’t like his attitude to people using phones and other devices, and trying to charge them up. They basically don’t let people use electricity for that. I will have to survive till tomorrow, I guess. He shows me the weather forecast which doesn’t look good. There might be a sunny window this afternoon but no one can guarantee anything. For this moment there is no point in going out, so I decided to have a siesta. I wake up after a short nap and there is bright sunshine outside. I’m not going to risk a big climb today – I’m too tired and the weather is too unstable. I decide to climb on Vignemale Petit instead. It’s only an hour from de Bayssellance (guidebook timing and for summer I guess 😉). The crampons are in use this time.

It’s not a difficult climb but after the morning sunshine the snow is wet and I keep falling in every now and again. I don’t complain though – the views pay off every step and every effort.

I spend quite a while on the top – the sunshine is glorious and the views splendid – but I have to walk back eventually. I wish I had skis with me. The way down would be much quicker. However, there is still a little child in me 😂 I just sit on my little backpack and have a fantastic ride down to the pass. I wish that my camera worked like it should – I’d have a great video. Anyway, fun and laughter are priceless.
I have a chat with a guy who stays in the refuge with his son. They are thinking of going to Vignemale very early in the morning if the weather is clear. Only an early morning is a potential option as the forecast for Saturday is really bad. The young chap gets really sick later in the evening – a sunstroke most likely – so they will see tomorrow. For me simply the weather will decide…

I wake up just after 7 a.m. but decide to have a little lie-in. I jump out of the bed when I hear someone in the kitchen. I open the door and look outside. It’s dry – I mean it isn’t raining – but I can’t see anyone. I walk to the other side of the hut but no-one is there and no-one is in the kitchen either. It’s weird but I go back to the bedroom and start to tidy things up and prepare breakfast. When I pack my sleeping bag I realise that a tea light which I had lit last night and which was placed in an old jar on the mattress next to me was taken out and moved to the other side of the bed (we are talking of the width of the double mattress which was next to mine). I’m absolutely certain that I had it in the jar within the arm’s reach as I extinguished it after studying the guidebook and praying last night and definitely did not put it away. While I can imagine that I slept so deeply that I didn’t hear that someone came in and slept on the top bank (not very likely but possible), it isn’t possible to go out the hut and leave the door ‘locked’ from inside!!! Even a very clever person cannot tie a piece of string inside while they are outside! The window is big enough to get out easily but what would be the point of that. It will be the mystery of this trip. I cannot find an explanation or at least not a logical one. It must have been my guardian angel…

I leave the hut in the morning mist and start walking towards Hourquette d’Alans (2430m) and then to Brêche de Tuquerouye, where I’m planning to sleep tonight. In fact, I’m really looking forward to staying in that refuge.

The marmots keep me company this morning. What lovely creatures they are…

The walk through the valley is easy and very enjoyable, and the views are stunning.

As I get higher I start looking out for the path to Brèche de Tuquerouye. There is nothing clearly visible and I don’t think that there is anything like winter way-markers in these mountains if there are any at all. I get to Hourquette d’Alans eventually and keep looking around. Still no path… I take the backpack off and do a bit of rock climbing looking for one but with no joy. I am not happy about it. I planned to climb Monte Perdido tomorrow (the weather should be the best for that) and I won’t do it if I sleep somewhere else. I should have had a closer look at the map on my phone – it’s much more detailed than the printed one – but I didn’t.

The path that need to take is covered in snow. It’s not very deep and I could possibly just walk up to in a straight line, but even in my madness, I doubt the wisdom of this idea. 

I can see Brèche de Roland from here and it is all covered in snow. It’s hard to think of conditions on the Spanish side. For a moment I contemplate about staying in Brèche de Roland refuge but soon I remember that it’s closed all this year. I don’t have much choice and decide to walk down and stay overnight in Refuge des Espuguettes (2027m).

As soon as I start walking the rain comes. It suddenly gets cold and unpleasant. I put my jacket and hat on, and cover the backpack. That black bag is invaluable. I have a couple of big patches of snow to cross and it’s not nice either. Of course, my disappointment makes all these conditions worse than they are… It’s not that bad after all.

Luckily, the rain is only a quick shower and a bit of a blue sky is above me again. 

The refuge is clearly visible all the time I walk down. Though, I must admit that I’m not happy with the change of the plan. I’m pretty spontaneous, generally speaking, but I don’t like changing ambitious plans… At the end of the day, Monte Perdido (3455m) is the third highest peak in Spain!!! You can hear my ego speaking here, can’t you? This is the life in the mountains – sometimes they force you to let go of your ambition. Sometimes or maybe often… Didn’t I mention somewhere here that the mountains teach me about God… If my ambition is unhealthy (are there any healthy ambitions or is it just an oxymoron???) He always does something or uses my weakness to change the direction. Of course, if I listen to Him at least a little bit. Anyhow, my fear (or His voice in my fear) was stronger than my ambition on this occasion, so I’m going to spend this evening planning an alternative route.

While I’m walking down I prepare myself for high prices in the refuge. They are very expensive, especially on the French side. It turns out that no-one is there. The main entrance is open and one of the dormitories, too – a warm bed for tonight. Looks like I can stay there for free 😀.

All the electricity is turned off, so I can’t use the tap outside. Well, it’s not a big thing – just another trip to the stream – only 2 minutes walk. I cook dinner and study the guidebook and the map. I’ve still been thinking of going to the Spanish side from Gavarnie via La Brèche de Roland but I eventually let it go (it really is not easy! I wrote a whole post about a few months ago). Tomorrow is going to be the best weather, so I decide to leave the big backpack in the refuge and climb up Piméné. I read in many different sources that if you have clear weather, the views from the top are spectacular. Then I can come back to des Espuguettes, take the backpack, walk down to Gavarnie, and from there to one of the cabanas on the way to Refuge de Bayssellance (2651m) or maybe even to de Bayssellance itself. It would give me a chance to climb Vignemale (yes, I know a three-thousender…) and eventually walk down to Cauterets which would solve the problem with transport to Lourdes. I’m pretty pleased with my ideas and I go for an evening walk. …Right – ‘my ideas…’ as soon as I hear my own thoughts, I’m almost certain that there will be some change of the plan again…

It gets very dark for a moment and I can feel a few drops of rain on my face but it’s nice warm rain. There is a rainbow, too.

The sunset is amazing. Look at these colours! Judging by that orange it will be hot tomorrow.