I had high expectations for the Barroude Lakes. I’d seen the area described as ‘magical’ and this was endorsed by a chap I met from London undertaking the entire High Level Route. I wasn’t so impressed. The walk to get here however was interesting and exciting.

I had an odd evening meal amongst a party of French walkers at the refuge, which is ten minutes from here. It was odd because I couldn’t communicate but enjoyed their company nonetheless. One of them was in high spirits, spreading his amusing manner around the table. After a few jokes, all he did was smile and his companions smiled with him.

It was a cold evening and I wasn’t sure I could manage a wash in the lake. I did it, full body, and it was certainly bracing. I’ve never met anyone who pursues a daily wash as I do. The feeling of being dirty and sticky in a sleeping bag is nasty. You get used to very cold washes and they’re probably good for you, invigorating the blood and nervous system.

 

Pyrenees Book: Barroude Camping

Thursday October 20, 2011