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Issue #264, Sort and the Aran Valley, October 19, 2024
Our new guide, Meritxell, showing our group a model of escape routes in the Pyrenees
October 20 2024 Sort and the Aran Valley. On the 19th of October we visited the Aran valley and the town of Sort, a place known as a point of exodus for those seeking refuge from the horrors of WWII. We had a new guide, Merixtell, (pronounced Mary-tell), a petite and energetic gal with red hair, who had a lot of enthusiasm.
A poster of General Chuck Yeager, who in 1944 was shot down in France, and later escaped over the Pyrenees using one of the nearby routes.
For starters, we saw a movie in the transit center that was difficult to understand, but did convey many visual impressions about the escape routes, and the prisoners who were held in Sort.
The docent of the prison museum, showing Pam Smarling some of escape routes
Camino de la libertad y prison museo de Sort
Many people followed mountain routes from France to Spain, through the Pyrenees, in their quest for freedom, fleeing persecution from Nazi Germany. We examined a jail that housed prisoners escaping on the freedom trail. We walked through some medieval streets, hemmed in by more modern architecture, and visited the jail and the Preso museum: ‘Camino de la libertad y prison museo de Sort’.
Here, in this little coffin-like room, there endured the fate of several thousand people who were unhappily captured by the Francoian army and housed in this tiny space.
To explain it all to us, we listened to a presentation given by the museum docent, a young man who spoke broken English (way too fast, I might add: I could barely understand his 20-minute talk). I think we all got the gist of what happened there, and our group completely filled the small space in the jail, far fewer than the 50 people that might have been held there at one time.
A perception Kayak, also popular in the United States, now used as a planter along Sort's kayak course
Another good place for a mother-son picture
Following our immersion in the details of the prison, we were left to have an hour to explore on our own. The river nearby had a kayak slalom course set up, so Mom and I walked alongside the course, enjoying the better weather, and watched a huge pack of motorcyclists who were all traveling in the region together. Why were they all lining up, we wondered? They were all (according to Fran) waiting to buy lottery tickets!
Mom digs into some lamb chops at the Hotel Poldo
Hotel Poldo
We stopped at a pleasant spot in the afternoon, ‘Gingueta de Aneu’ and ate lunch at the Hotel Poldo, another spot where refugees fleeing from Nazi Germany were met and assisted in escaping.
Everyone else was still eating when I took this picture
The area was right alongside a beautiful river, Noguera Pallaresa, so after our expansive lunch, we were able to get out and walk. I finished quickly and went out to explore on my own, crossing to the other side of the river, checking out a few of the preserved bunkers and climbing a short way up the hillside, to get a better view.
Once the rest of the group was done with their meal (and I had quickly come back to meet them) we all walked down the same path in the warm sunshine, past the bunker I had previously examined, and on to a much larger underground bunker, also used by the escapees.
The outside of some of the bunkers (Never used, and associated with a different effort, to protect Spain from invasion from France during the Spanish Civil War)
Alpine crocuses were blooming; mushrooms were growing, and the Pyrenees revealed a dusting of snow left over from the storm the day before.
A farmer drove by, asking if we had seen his missing cow. It was a spectacularly beautiful afternoon.
Once again on our way in the bus, we climbed up a steep pass to Bonaigua, a ski area. Here we found snow, and one small corner of a resort that extended for miles to other linked areas, all accessible by a network of chairlifts.
Mom and Jon at Bonaigua
It was chilly and cloudy up on the pass, a change from the bucolic meal and riverside walk we had just experienced.
From Bonaigua we descended into the valley of Arties, where our hotel for the evening was located. Arties is clearly one of the 'base camps for the local ski areas. It reminded me of Snowmass village, Copper or Aspen, with so many modern-looking mountain chalets, the roofs of all of which were clad in a similar black slate tile.
Shaggy Mane mushrooms
Our hotel in Arties, the Parador of Arties, was opulent. In the front yard, I noticed a huge bunch of Coprinus Comatus, or ‘Shaggy Mane mushrooms (Iinky Caps); erupting like a giant protrusion in the wet grass.
We checked into our rooms with instructions to assemble for dinner a few hours later, at 7:45. Meals are all served so late out here! I took the opportunity to do an energetic explorative hike up the side of the valley opposite the town.
I walked past an old church and straight up a farmer’s field. A sheepdog, watching me, barked loudly as I climbed high enough to check out the view. In the ‘V’ of the ravine I found concrete structures – not exactly like a dam, but perhaps built to keep avalanches from sweeping into the town?
I found a trail and kept going up, and soon I was producing endorphins, as I walked (and ran) ever higher, against the backdrop of the village, with its brightly illuminated church framed by majestic cloud-shrouded peaks in the valley below.
I walked as high as I could, anticipating the need to be able to make it down before darkness enveloped the valley. All went well until I came to a cliff in the dark, so I wisely backed off and went a safer way, until I could retrace my steps.
Arties, Spain
Meanwhile, Orion was having a grand adventure. By this time he had already arrived in Barcelona with his school buddies. Their plane had been delayed by the massive storm that we had experienced when we were driving into Andorra, so he didn’t make it to Barcelona until 2 AM.
By the time we had arrived in Arties, he had taken a boat to Mallorca, with two other School of Mines students; had rented a car (finally persuading the 4the rental establishment that he had approached to let him rent a car, despite being only 18); and circumnavigated the entire island, stopping at secluded beaches to swim and driving to the top of the mountains, which have a steep volcanic aspect. In short, he’s having the best time!
Orion and Soren, his School of Mines roommate, in Barcelona
Our new guide, Meritxell, showing our group a model of escape routes in the Pyrenees
October 20 2024 Sort and the Aran Valley. On the 19th of October we visited the Aran valley and the town of Sort, a place known as a point of exodus for those seeking refuge from the horrors of WWII. We had a new guide, Merixtell, (pronounced Mary-tell), a petite and energetic gal with red hair, who had a lot of enthusiasm.
A poster of General Chuck Yeager, who in 1944 was shot down in France, and later escaped over the Pyrenees using one of the nearby routes.
For starters, we saw a movie in the transit center that was difficult to understand, but did convey many visual impressions about the escape routes, and the prisoners who were held in Sort.
The docent of the prison museum, showing Pam Smarling some of escape routes
Camino de la libertad y prison museo de Sort
Many people followed mountain routes from France to Spain, through the Pyrenees, in their quest for freedom, fleeing persecution from Nazi Germany. We examined a jail that housed prisoners escaping on the freedom trail. We walked through some medieval streets, hemmed in by more modern architecture, and visited the jail and the Preso museum: ‘Camino de la libertad y prison museo de Sort’.
Here, in this little coffin-like room, there endured the fate of several thousand people who were unhappily captured by the Francoian army and housed in this tiny space.
To explain it all to us, we listened to a presentation given by the museum docent, a young man who spoke broken English (way too fast, I might add: I could barely understand his 20-minute talk). I think we all got the gist of what happened there, and our group completely filled the small space in the jail, far fewer than the 50 people that might have been held there at one time.
A perception Kayak, also popular in the United States, now used as a planter along Sort's kayak course
Another good place for a mother-son picture
Following our immersion in the details of the prison, we were left to have an hour to explore on our own. The river nearby had a kayak slalom course set up, so Mom and I walked alongside the course, enjoying the better weather, and watched a huge pack of motorcyclists who were all traveling in the region together. Why were they all lining up, we wondered? They were all (according to Fran) waiting to buy lottery tickets!
Mom digs into some lamb chops at the Hotel Poldo
Hotel Poldo
We stopped at a pleasant spot in the afternoon, ‘Gingueta de Aneu’ and ate lunch at the Hotel Poldo, another spot where refugees fleeing from Nazi Germany were met and assisted in escaping.
Everyone else was still eating when I took this picture
The area was right alongside a beautiful river, Noguera Pallaresa, so after our expansive lunch, we were able to get out and walk. I finished quickly and went out to explore on my own, crossing to the other side of the river, checking out a few of the preserved bunkers and climbing a short way up the hillside, to get a better view.
Once the rest of the group was done with their meal (and I had quickly come back to meet them) we all walked down the same path in the warm sunshine, past the bunker I had previously examined, and on to a much larger underground bunker, also used by the escapees.
The outside of some of the bunkers (Never used, and associated with a different effort, to protect Spain from invasion from France during the Spanish Civil War)
Alpine crocuses were blooming; mushrooms were growing, and the Pyrenees revealed a dusting of snow left over from the storm the day before.
A farmer drove by, asking if we had seen his missing cow. It was a spectacularly beautiful afternoon.
Once again on our way in the bus, we climbed up a steep pass to Bonaigua, a ski area. Here we found snow, and one small corner of a resort that extended for miles to other linked areas, all accessible by a network of chairlifts.
Mom and Jon at Bonaigua
It was chilly and cloudy up on the pass, a change from the bucolic meal and riverside walk we had just experienced.
From Bonaigua we descended into the valley of Arties, where our hotel for the evening was located. Arties is clearly one of the 'base camps for the local ski areas. It reminded me of Snowmass village, Copper or Aspen, with so many modern-looking mountain chalets, the roofs of all of which were clad in a similar black slate tile.
Shaggy Mane mushrooms
Our hotel in Arties, the Parador of Arties, was opulent. In the front yard, I noticed a huge bunch of Coprinus Comatus, or ‘Shaggy Mane mushrooms (Iinky Caps); erupting like a giant protrusion in the wet grass.
We checked into our rooms with instructions to assemble for dinner a few hours later, at 7:45. Meals are all served so late out here! I took the opportunity to do an energetic explorative hike up the side of the valley opposite the town.
I walked past an old church and straight up a farmer’s field. A sheepdog, watching me, barked loudly as I climbed high enough to check out the view. In the ‘V’ of the ravine I found concrete structures – not exactly like a dam, but perhaps built to keep avalanches from sweeping into the town?
I found a trail and kept going up, and soon I was producing endorphins, as I walked (and ran) ever higher, against the backdrop of the village, with its brightly illuminated church framed by majestic cloud-shrouded peaks in the valley below.
I walked as high as I could, anticipating the need to be able to make it down before darkness enveloped the valley. All went well until I came to a cliff in the dark, so I wisely backed off and went a safer way, until I could retrace my steps.
Arties, Spain
Meanwhile, Orion was having a grand adventure. By this time he had already arrived in Barcelona with his school buddies. Their plane had been delayed by the massive storm that we had experienced when we were driving into Andorra, so he didn’t make it to Barcelona until 2 AM.
By the time we had arrived in Arties, he had taken a boat to Mallorca, with two other School of Mines students; had rented a car (finally persuading the 4the rental establishment that he had approached to let him rent a car, despite being only 18); and circumnavigated the entire island, stopping at secluded beaches to swim and driving to the top of the mountains, which have a steep volcanic aspect. In short, he’s having the best time!
Orion and Soren, his School of Mines roommate, in Barcelona
solo/group kukai
drawing/writing/photography
jonathan machen
drawing/writing/photography
jonathan machen