It was incredibly dismal leaving the hut after dinner. Picture the scene. You’ve had warm food, good company, in a dry and protected building. Outside it’s cold, damp, with zero visibility. I tried walking to my tent and became lost. I completed a strange circular route leaving the hut and returning to it when I had to strike out away from it. I needed a compass but didn’t expect that for a stroll to my tent after dinner. I asked for advice. Can you assist. Fortunately I could explain where my tent was, firstly because her English was good and secondly because she was familiar with the paths and undulations outside. I didn’t think it would work, but it did. I described the little hill pictorially, using my hand in the air. Your tent is in the dip, she said. Yes, precisely, the dip. She showed me the beginning of a path which led to it. I passed a few other tents. Have you seen a tent, I said. No, sorry. Five seconds later I saw it. It was invisible in the mist. My shelter and bed for this dreadful night. I didn’t want to go there but had no choice. A few years ago I met a chap from London walking the HRP and we spent some time together. When discussing the effort and trials of the walking he said it’s the life we choose to live. It’s a line from The Godfather. This is possibly my favourite shot of the Pyrenees mountains 2014.


Pyrenees Photography: Clouds From Pombie

Friday October 10, 2014