The Cirque de Gavarnie – a Pyrenees Classic

Today I enjoyed one of the Pyrenees’ most famous sights – the Cirque de Gavarnie. This time I set off from Tarbes without a cloud in the sky and was soon driving up a beautiful river valley towards the high mountains. The road passed some pretty spa towns, but my busy itinerary for the day did not allow me the time to stop at any of them. After an hour and half, I reached the village of Gavarnie, the base for my hike.

The hike to the Cirque de Gavarnie is one of the most famous and popular in France, and when I arrived at 11.00, the car park was already quite busy. Along with many other walkers, I set off on a flat easy track which followed the banks of the valley’s fast-running river – the same one I had been following on my drive to get here.

The cirque seen from the start of the walk at Gavarnie

Even from the walk’s starting point, there was quite a good view of the cirque – a semi-circular wall of mountains with waterfalls cascading down their sides. This view got more and more impressive as I approached my destination.

After a few kilometres the easy, wide path ended at a bar/restaurant and turned into a mountain track which passed over a mini glacier. At first, I wondered whether this was safe to cross – the ice had two large holes, through which you could hear the river bubbling below. But the much heavier human walkers set across confidently, so I followed in their footsteps (literally) and was soon clambering up the rocky scree that lies at the base of the cirque.

I sat down and had a long picnic, soaking up some of the most beautiful mountain scenery I had ever seen.

A well-earned break inside the Cirque de Gavarnie

Rested, I put on waterproofs and clambered up to the largest waterfall – La Grande Cascade – getting a close as I could without getting totally soaked.

I chose to return to Gavarnie by a different, more difficult track that climbed up the side of a mountain. I turned around frequently to see the cirque flitting in and out of view, as if it was playing hide and seek with me. The path also offered impressive views of other mountains….

A final bonus of my return route was spotting a large group of butterworts (carnivorous plants) clinging to the rock face. These plants secrete a sticky liquid onto their leaves which traps insects, which the plant then digests.

A Butterwort – the black spots on its leaves are dead insects

I got back to my car later than I had expected – probably I had spent too long sitting contemplating the beauty of the site – and my satnav gave me the unpleasant surprise that I had two and half hours driving to reach my destination for the night, the small town of Bielsa in Spain. On the sinuous mountain roads (which Google always underestimates) I knew it would probably take me even longer.

At first, I enjoyed the drive, as it passed some spectacular high Pyrenees sights, including the famous Col de Tourmalet…

View from the top of the Col de Tourmalet

….and the Pic Du Midi, an observation point served by a very expensive cable car, which due to lack for time I had to drive past (I was also not sure that the view would really be any better than what I had seen already, and probably not worth the exorbitant 60€ cost of the ride).

Descending from the Col de Tourmalet I felt tired so stopped to refresh myself in the pretty village of Arreau, before heading on towards the Tunnel de Bielsa leading into Spain.

The pretty town of Arreau in the Pyrenees

I finally reached Bielsa at 20.30, but my driving was not over. Google kept proposing routes to reach my lodgings along tiny lanes so narrow that even a motorbike would struggle to get through. I called the house’s owners and explained my predicament in faltering Spanish. When they eventually understood me, they send their daughters to help guide me through the maze of streets, and I finally arrived in my room a tired and slightly grumpy teddy around nine o’clock. I had probably tried to tackle too much in one day, and all I wanted to do now was to sit down and have a drink in the café on the town’s main plaza. Although Bielsa was a very small town, there were several bars and restaurants still open and small groups of people sitting on tables in the square. The pleasant atmosphere and cold beer helped improved my mood and prepare me for a good night’s sleep after a very long but fulfilling day.

Previous Post: Pau and Tarbes

Next Post: The Spanish Pyrenees – Canyon d’Añisclo plus Ordesa and Monte Perdido National Park

21st June 2025 4

Rotorua Day 2 – Hiking Waimangu and rafting the Kaituna River

Today I visited a different geothermal park – the Waimangu Volcanic Valley, an area formed when Mount Tarawera erupted in 1886. The eruption levelled several Maori villages, killing many people, and destroyed the Pink and White Terraces which had been a major tourist attraction and were claimed to be the “8th wonder of the world”. It left a caldera, which over the years filled with water to become a much-expanded Lake Rotomahana (a smaller lake of that name had existed earlier).
Today, the Waimangu valley is the world’s youngest geothermal ecosystem, and the only one created as a direct result of a volcanic eruption. It is also once again a tourist attraction, although a less popular one than others in the Rotorua area and I was pleasantly surprised that I often had the place to myself.
The park is visited by walking an 8km path downhill, starting at a huge pool of boiling water (Frying Pan Lake, one of the world’s biggest hot springs)………

…. and following a boiling stream of water that runs through a pleasant valley, past lots of smaller springs…..

The path at Waimungu follows this boiling stream

…. and a boiling caldron of water called Inferno Crater.

Inferno Crater at Waimungu Volcanic Valley

The stream eventually arrives at peaceful Lake Rotomahana, home to much birdlife, including black swans, from where most people use the park’s shuttle bus to return to its entrance.

Lake Rotomahana at the end of the Waimungu Volcanic Valley

From Waimungu I went to visit something completely different – the waterfalls on the Kaituna River. These are found in a scenic valley, to the northeast of Rotorua.

The area is beautiful, but the real attraction here is the possibility to go white water rafting, a trip that includes descending a 7-metre waterfall (the highest in the world that is open to commercial rafting operators). Unfortunately, the rafting company had a minimum height requirement for passengers, so teddy bears are unable to participate, but I did let my human assistant editor have a go. I watched as his raft approached the famous waterfall….

and then plunged down….

….completely disappearing under the water.

I briefly wondered if I should start advertising for a new assistant, but then the raft reappeared from under the foam with all its crew members still on board.

The raft reemerges from the water on the Kaituna River

It was now late afternoon, and I headed back home. After a difficult introduction I was beginning to like Rotorua. The geothermal sites are really exceptional, and it was nice to let my assistant have some fun with the rafting, even if it would have been even better to try this for myself. It is a demanding job working for Trouspinet and my subordinates need to let their hair down occasionally…….

Letting my assistant have some fun for a change (he is in the front)

Previous Post: Rotorua Day 1

Next Post: Rotorua -Wai-o-tapu and Te Puia

16th April 2025 3

The Marlborough Sounds and Abel Tasman Park

So far, most of my posts have covered one day of travelling. This post will cover four days visiting two of New Zealand’s highlights – the Marlborough Sounds and Abel Tasman Park. There is a simple reason why two such memorable places get so little text – the weather was awful, and two of these days were almost completely washed out. After my whale-watching flight in Kakoura, I headed north to the tip of the North Island. State Highway One was scenic, with nice sea and mountain views, but slow going, with more than its usual share of roadworks. I reached Blenheim, the capital of Marlborough’s wine country, in the early afternoon. I thought about visiting the city for a coffee break, or even the famous nearby Cloudy Bay winery for a tasting, but Blenheim’s outskirts were so ugly that I hurried on to Picton on the north coast, the entrance point to the Marlborough Sounds.

The Queen Charlotte Sound near Picton on a cloudy day

The view of Pelorus Sound from Cullen Point

The Marlborough Sounds are the estuaries of a series of rivers emptying into the Cook Strait between New Zealand’s North and South Islands, which form a jagged coast with countless islands and peninsulas. Indeed, this relatively small area contains around a quarter of the total length New Zealand’s coastline. The Sounds are very thinly populated, with a few fishing towns, holiday homes, campsites and resorts. Much of the area – and many of the resorts – is only accessible by boat, but a few narrow, winding roads also lead into the region. I had booked a resort on one of side roads leading off from the popular Queen Charlotte’s Drive scenic route which links Picton and the small port of Havelock. The route would have been beautiful….had the sun made an appearance to bring out the colours of the water and vegetation. But instead the weather was stubbornly overcast, and the sea remained a dull grey colour. After an hour of scenic but slow driving I arrived at my resort.

It was a beautiful, utterly remote and so laid-back that the hotel did not give guests room keys – this part of rural New Zealand has so little crime that people do not bother to lock their doors. It was just a shame that the sky remained overcast, and the sea water which was bright blue in my guide book remained a dull grey. It was possible to go hiking or to hire kayaks or paddleboards to explore the Sounds, but the weather did not inspire me to try any physical activities and instead I explored the beach a bit, where I found some wild oysters……

…..and then sat reading, admiring the view from my room as the sun set.

The view of the Mahua Sound from my room

The next day I had originally planned to explore the Sounds some more and then devote the whole of the day after to visiting another of New Zealand’s highlights, the Abel Tasman Park. However, seeing a forecast of very bad weather coming, I drove west straight to the park. It has a spectacular 60km coastal track, which takes 3 to 5 days, and the best way to experience the area is either to walk the whole path, or take a water taxi into the heart of the park, walk a section, and come back on a return boat trip. But I arrived too late to take an outward boat and had to content myself with a short walk from the park entrance to Apple Tree Bay, about 5km in.

Despite my limited programme, I was immediately enchanted by my walk. The path led from the park entrance gates, across the a river estuary…..

River Estuary at the start of Abel Tasman Park

…and then along the coast, past many bays with sandy beaches.

Typical view from the coastal path at Abel Tasman Park

The sides of the path were lined with lush vegetation, including many giant ferns. Not only were the views impressive but the hike was also a treat for other senses; I was accompanied by unusual and beautiful birdsong, quite unlike what I hear back home, and in many places the path had a strong, sweet smell of honey. To this day I still don’t know which plants make this scent, which I smelt often in New Zealand.

Luxuriant vegetation and giant ferns at Abel Tasman Park

I spent a pleasant half an hour on the beach at Apple Tree Bay……..

…and met a new friend, a weka, one of New Zealand’s many flightless bird species.

On my way back from Apple Tree Bay it started raining. I got back to my car without getting too wet, but then the skies opened and it rained hard all evening and all of the next day. Fortunately, my accommodation was probably the best value placed I have ever stayed in – a large and beautifully furnished apartment looking out over the bay of the city of Nelson. It was the perfect place to sit out some impossibly bad weather. My only activity for the next day was visiting a local winery for a tasting and a light lunch……

Neudorf winery in the rain, near Nelson, New Zealand

…..after which it was all to easy to sit back and admire the view from my flat. I ventured out once to buy some excellent turbot for dinner from a nearby shop on the seafront. Somehow, when the weather outside is this bad, staying in a nice place with a good view gives you a really cosy feeling.

On day two of the storm, I had to check out and made the short drive east back to Picton in heavy rain. I stopped for lunch on the way in the town of Havelock, which is known for its greenshell mussels – which are enormous and very tasty.

I reached Picton in the late afternoon and the sun finally put in an appearance. I used the remaining two hours of daylight driving around the area, seeing what the past two days could have been like if the weather had been kinder.

Picton – Queen Charlotte Sound in the sun this time

The bright blues seas of the Marlborough Sounds finally appear!

Still, I cannot complain – so far I have been fairly lucky overall with the weather, and even under clouds, the Marlborough Sounds and Abel Tasman Park were pretty. At least I have an excuse to come back and visit the area again, hopefully when the sun is out.

Next Post: From Picton to Wellington

Previous Post: Kaikoura – lobster and blue whales

5th April 2025 3

Kaikoura, lobster and my first blue whales

Today I drove up the east coast of New Zealand’s South Island from Christchurch to Kaikoura, a destination famous for its marine life. Around half way along the road, a sign offered a scenic drive around Gore Bay. It wasn’t in either of my guide books but I decided to give it a try, and was rewarded with one of those “off the beaten track” discoveries that makes travelling fun. After a bit of driving past some interestingly-shaped cliffs (the Cathedral Gully), a little path planted with sub-tropical flowers led from the road to the beach. I was almost the only one there, and took time to savour a moment of solitude.

Refreshed, I completed the rest of the day’s driving, checked into my hotel and spent the late afternoon wandering around Kaikoura’s wild peninsula, which was raised nearly two metres from the sea during a recent earthquake. There were views over the bay to far-off mountains……..

……lots of fur seals……

Lazy fur seals on the Kaikoura Peninsula

…and birds……

Kaikoura Peninsula – a black and white shag

….and wild scenery and cliffs.

My hike was probably only about 10km but walking on the pebbly shore and then up and down steep slopes was quite tiring. It was getting dark and cold when I reached my car, with evening approaching. I needed a good dinner to warm me up…….and found one on my way back home at “Cod and Crayfish”, a fish and chip shop on the main road going through the city. What New Zealander’s call a crayfish – in Maori, Koura – would be more often called a rock lobster in other parts of the world. Kaikoura (meaning “eat lobster” in Maori) is supposed to be the best place in New Zealand to taste some, so I enjoyed a feast of lobster and blue cod with chips for my dinner.

Although the walk around Kaikoura’s peninsula was nice, most people come here to venture onto the sea in search of whales and dolphins. I was no exception, and next morning I checked in for a whale-watching flight with Air Kaikoura. It is also possible to look for whales by boat, but I remembered my unsuccessful excursion in Iceland when I spent four hours on the sea only to see one small minka whale, so I opted for a shorter and (surprisingly) cheaper option. I set off from Akaroa airfield with a group of six other tourists plus the pilot in a small Cessna plane for a forty-minute flight.

Setting off to look for whales with Air Kaikoura

We all scanned the sea intently, faces pressed to the plane’s windows and cameras in hands or paws, but saw nothing. The pilot’s initially enthusiastic commentary and explanation about the lives of whales trailed off, and slowly people began to drop their arms and sit back in their seats. I looked at my watch – our forty minutes was up. I had resigned myself to yet another unsuccessful whale hunt, when suddenly…..

…..a blue whale appeared. The blue whale is the largest animal ever to inhabit the earth, and a truly amazing sight. Soon, two more blue whales appeared out of nowhere.

The pilot swooped down, circling so that each side of the plane could get a close look. He was visibly excited, and said that even he only saw blue whales once ever two or three weeks or so, and hardly ever three at once.

It was a wonderful experience watching these majestic animals making their way through the ocean, and ticked off one of my bucket-list items, that I thought I might never achieve. I don’t normally mention commercial enterprises in my blog, but I really have to say thanks here to Air Kaikoura for extending our flight by nearly half so that we could observe the whales properly. It was a fitting end to my stay in Kaikoura, and I set off on the long coastal road up to far north of the North Island in good spirits.

Next Post: The Marlborough Sounds and Abel Tasman Park

Previous Post: The Banks Peninsula, Akaroa and Dolphins

4th April 2025 2

The Hooker Valley Track at Mount Cook – so good I did it twice

I left Wanaka in the morning, stopping briefly to photograph the now-famous “Wanaka tree”. This used to be a perfectly anonymous piece of vegetation until someone won a photographic competition with a picture of it, and since then it has been a magnet for selfie enthusiasts from all around the world. I was rather underwhelmed, but anyway here is my photo…….

I broke the roughly two-hour drive to Mount Cook at the Clay Cliffs, an interesting geological feature located 10km along a gravel road off the main highway. Entrance was by an unmanned gate with an honesty box requesting a $10 fee – which everyone seemed to pay (try that back home!)

Next, I stocked up with food at the small town of Twizel before taking the road north to Mount Cook, New Zealand’s tallest mountain (3724m). As I drove along the scenic Lake Pukaki, the mountain steadily grew bigger and bigger.

Approaching Mount Cook along Lake Pukaki

I checked into my hotel and looked forward to some interesting hiking the next day, with a forecast of sun all day. When I woke the next morning the weathermen had changed their mind, predicting sun and showers in the morning and rain in the afternoon. So I hurriedly got ready and set off along the Hooker Valley Track, a 10km walk that was supposed to give great views of Mount Cook. The promised sun was hidden by clouds and soon it began to drizzle – and later to rain. The overcast weather meant that Mount Cook remained stubbornly out of sight, but at least I could take some atmospheric photos of rainbows and mountains in the rain.

Hiking the Hooker Valley Track in the Rain

The track crossed three suspension bridges and ended at the Hooker Lake, at the end of the Hooker glacier.

Hooker Lake in the Rain, no sign of Mount Cook…

I returned along the same path, with the rain falling harder and harder, and was relieved to get back to the hotel. I spent the afternoon relaxing and writing my blog, until in the early evening I noticed that the sun had finally appeared. Being a very stubborn teddy – and determined to take some good pictures for my readers – I put on my (still wet) hiking gear again and hurried off along the same Hooker Valley Track I had walked in the morning. In the evening sun it was completely different, with magnificent views of Mount Cook.

The Hooker Valley Track in the sun this time, with Mount Cook visible!

I reached the Hooker Lake and took more photos, but headed back when it started to get cold.

The definitive photo of Mount Cook and Hooker Lake

Halfway back, just as my clothes had dried out, it started raining again, and once I again I reached home a rather soggy teddy bear. Still, I was happy – I had had a full experience of Mount Cook in two very different sets of weather conditions. Tomorrow I would experience New Zealand’s most iconic mountain in yet another, very different, way. Stay tuned!

Previous Post: Mount Aspiring

Next Post: More Aspects of Mount Cook

29th March 2025 3

Mount Aspiring and Wanaka

Today was a very full day, since I had to get from Te Anau in the south to Wanaka, in the middle of New Zealand’s South Island. On the way there was the usual pleasant New Zealand scenery, especially near Lake Wakitipu on the approach to Queenstown.

I made a brief stop for a morning coffee at Arrowtown, a small gold rush town that time forgot. It has one main street with traditional old houses……..and lots of tourists.

From Arrowtown, I continued my route north over the scenic Crown Range of mountains.

In the early afternoon I arrived at Wanaka, a popular tourist destination located on a lake. It seemed to be similar to Queenstown but on a smaller scale and more laid back. I found my B+B, quickly dropped my stuff and immediately set off again for the day’s main activity – a hike up to Mount Aspiring’s glacier. The road to get there was worth the trip in itself, and went through some beautiful countryside, with my destination often visible at the end of a long valley.

On the way there were some road hazards typical of New Zealand….

Just before the starting place for the hike I made a short stop at the incredibly scenic Wishbone Falls, where water tumbled down from cliffs into a lush valley with rich vegetation.

A few minutes’ drive further on from the waterfall was the end of the road and the car park for hikers walking to Mount Aspiring. The path was quite easy and went through even more beautiful countryside…

Mount Aspiring’s glacier beckons in the distance

….and then rose more steeply through a forest.

Ahead, the Mount Aspiring’s glacier played peek-a-boo with me as it ducked in and out of sight.

A final steep climb brought me to the upper viewing station, which gave an uninterrupted view of glacier in all its glory and about a dozen waterfalls falling from it. Unfortunately, since I had set off late, the glacier itself was in shade so my photos were a bit disappointing, but it was still an amazing sight.

The return trip brought out the positive side of my late start – the evening sun brought out wonderful colours in the mountains ahead of me. Sometimes I thought I was looking at a huge canvas of abstract modern art, painted with bold, broad brushstrokes on the cliffs.

The drive home was just as beautiful as the outward trip, but looked quite different in the fading light. It had been a very good day and one of the best hikes I had ever done – alpine pastures, mountain streams, forests, waterfalls and a glacier all in the space of a fairly undemanding 11km walk. As a reward I treated myself to a very good dinner in one of the few restaurants still open in Wanaka by the time I got back, and contemplated the wonders of nature over monkfish and some excellent New Zealand sauvignon blanc.

Previous Post: Milford Sound

Next Post: Mount Cook and the Hooker Valley Track

27th March 2025 5

Welcome to New Zealand – Queenstown, Ben Lomond and jet boating

From Melbourne I flew to New Zealand, where I planned to spend three weeks travelling. It was already deep into New Zealand’s autumn, so I decided to visit the South Island first and then make my way up to the North. The flight into Queenstown gave a spectacular introduction to New Zealand’s amazing scenery.

Views from the flight Melbourne-Queenstown

Queenstown is a small city sitting on a lake, which is a major transit hub and tourist destination. From my hotel I strolled to the lakeside, the heart of the town. On the way I passed travel agencies offering every imaginable type of outdoor sport – bungee jumping, parachuting, canyoning, mountain biking and more. There were shops selling the requisite gear for these activities, including several outlets selling goods for the upcoming ski season. The streets were full of tourists, some slim and in sporty outdoor gear, and some plumper and in normal casual clothes. The vibe was like a French ski resort in high season, and indeed in winter Queenstown is also one of New Zealand’s most popular ski destinations.
I spent my first afternoon making a short walk along the lake and then chilling on a floating bar back in town.

Drinking by the side of (or on) Lake Wakatipu is a popular activity in Queenstown

The next morning, I woke up early and enjoyed sunrise from my hotel’s terrace.

My body was now totally confused – Melbourne had been 11 hours ahead of the UK, but the time difference with New Zealand was 13 hours. I didn’t think that more than 12 hours was possible but then realised that New Zealand, unlike London, was still on summer daylight-saving time. Profiting from the cool morning air, I set off on Queenstown’s most interesting walk, the ascent of Ben Lomond. At first, I was a bit disappointed, because the forecast sun had not materialised, but as I made the steep climb up, I started sweating and was happy for the shade the clouds provided. As my climb progressed, the views got better and better.

At roughly the halfway point there was a rather special toilet for hikers, painted so that it blended into the mountain landscape.

An original toilet for hikers on Ben Lomond

The summit offered 360° views. In the west I could see Queenstown far below, whilst to the east mountains towered out of a bank of approaching dark clouds. The mountains to the south, in the Fjordland National Park (subject of a future post), still carried the vestiges of last winter’s snow. I enjoyed the views and snacked on some chocolate bars until the first drops of rain on my fur announced that it would be a good time to head back down.

The climb and descent had taken me around four and half hours, so I had plenty to time to try some other typical Queenstown activities. First, I had a coffee in a trendy café, then I decided to try a jet boat ride.

I chose one of the operators offering tours from the main jetty on the lakeside and was soon whizzing across the lake and then up the Shotover River at speeds of up to 95kmph.

To add some excitement to the speed, our pilot entertained us by making several 360° spins.

Our boat returned to the quay with happy passengers. On arrival, we could see almost the whole range of Queenstown boating options – a traditional old wooden ferry, a jet boat, and a strange two-seater shark-shaped vessel (just visible in the photo below), part way between a boat and a submarine, which was apparently capable of great speed.

My first day had been an encouraging introduction to New Zealand. On the way back to my hotel (a slow walk with stiff legs after the climb) I bought a bottle of Pinot Noir and an obscenely large pizza and enjoyed both on the terrace of my hotel.

Previous Post: Melbourne

Next Post: Milford Sound

24th March 2025 5

The Iya Valley – Nagoro Scarecrow Village, Vine Bridges and Tsurugi-san

Iya-Valley-autumn-colors — The beautiful Iya Vally in the Fall

We woke up and were treated to the typical multiple course ryokan breakfast, which we ate whilst keeping an eye on the weather outside. It had stopped raining, but was still cloudy. However, as we finished our tea, we suddenly saw a patch of blue sky. Perhaps we would be lucky.
We set off in our car on a road following the Iya river, climbing up the remote and sparsely-populated valley. We saw very few people in the settlements we passed, but after a few miles we came across a village that at first sight appeared to be teaming with life.

Nagoro Scarecrow Village — Finally some people!?

On closer inspection, the “people” were dummies, more usually used scarecrows for scaring away birds. They were everywhere – harvesting in the fields, waiting for a bus, working on the road, even engaging in a tug of war in the sports hall of a disused school.

Scarecrows-waiting-for-bus-Nagoro — Meeting the locals at Nagaro

Consulting our guide book we realised we had arrived at Nagaro village. The scarecrow story started when a woman moved to the village to look after her aged father. To occupy herself, she made a scarecrow in his likeness, which was so realistic that fellow villagers would say “good morning” to it as they passed. She made more figures, many using local residents as models, as way of relieving boredom and loneliness – the area is suffering from depopulation as older residents die and younger people move to the cities to find better jobs. Other people followed her example, and now there are around 350 scarecrows in the village, which has become a tourist attraction. When we visited we saw around 100 scarecrows, two human tourists and one dog – but no local people. So although the initiative has put Nagoro on the map, it has not solved their depopulation problem.
A few miles down the road there was another, more famous tourist attraction – a pair of “vine bridges”. These structures are made from planks of wood tied together with natural vines and were originally built hundreds of years ago, no one is quite sure by whom or why. There were originally many such bridges over the Iya river, but now only three remain, of which two were here, almost side by side – the larger one is nicknamed the “male” bridge and the smaller one, “female”.

Iya Valley Vine Bridge — The “male” vine bridge

I cautiously stepped across on the male bridge with my little teddy legs, leaving Aki, who does not like heights, behind me to film my progress. The gaps between the planks were quite big, and I think even a human could have slipped between them into the river, clearly visible under my paws far below. Certainly a little teddy could fall through and disappear without trace into the water. I finally made it across and let out a big sigh of relief. I used the “female” bridge to get back, and fortunately this was shorter and lower, and less of an ordeal to cross. With my adrenaline rush over I could relax with Aki to enjoy the wonderful scenery around the area.

Iya Valley Female Bridge — The “female” bridge

We continued our drive up the valley, steadily gaining altitude. As we rose, the vegetation changed and we found ourselves driving through mixed forests, including many spectacular maple trees, their leaves a bright red. The mountains were a patchwork of greens, yellows and reds, and very beautiful.

Autumn Colors in Iya Valley — Iya valley colours

We arrived at the chairlift station taking hikers up to the starting point for trails leading to the various mountains surrounding us. The chairlift ride itself gave wonderful views of the forests’ autumn colours, even if it was a little scary, since the chairs lacked any protective barriers to stop you falling off.

Tsurugi Chair lift — A spectacular but not very safe chair lift

The most popular climb in the area is Mount Tsurugi, the second highest mountain on Shikoku island. But we decided to climb the very slightly smaller Mount Jirogyu, which the Iya Valley tourist information website said offered even better views. We paused continually on the way up to take pictures of the wonderful views in a mix of cloud and bright sunshine.

View Tsurugi area — Views on the way up Mount Jirogyu

But as we neared the end of the climb and with our goal in sight, clouds blew in from the west, obscuring the summit.

Mount Jirogyu Summit — Mount Jirogyu summit beckons as clouds rush in

We climbed up all the same, but all that we could see at the top was thick cloud.

on Mount Jirogyu — Shame! The “view” at the top.

Out of the sun, it was chilly and windy, so we hurried back down. Below the clouds we could once again enjoy the autumn foliage.

View mount Tsurugi — Views on the way down

We drove back to our ryokan to have a hot bath to warm up, after our exposure to the cold mountain air and damp clouds. It had been a brilliant day but could have been perfect if only we had started maybe an hour earlier so that we could enjoy the view from the summit of Mount Jirogyu . That will have to be a plan for another trip – we liked the Iya Valley so much that we will try to come back one day.

Next Post: More Iya Valley, Kotohira and Takamatsu

Previous Post: Kochi (Japan), Shikoku

4th November 2024 4

High Tatras – the Valley of the Five Lakes and Szpiglasowy Wierch

I was determined to get the most of out my last day in the Tatras by finally doing a proper, energetic hike. The most popular entry point for the Polish side of the park was a short drive away from my chalet, so I set off early……to find the place already heaving with people. I had pre-booked my parking space but I still had to stop around 1km away and take a shuttle bus to get to the park entrance. There, a large queue waited to buy entry permits, but with my e-ticket I could just walk straight in.

The busy entrance to the High Tatras park

From the entrance a long asphalted road provided the only option for walking deeper into the park. It seemed like half the population of Poland had decided to go hiking that day. Occasionally a horse drawn carriage would pass me, an option for those unable or too lazy to walk. Often the road was very pretty, but I got sick of the presence of so many other people and of walking on asphalt.

After a couple of kilometres, I was relieved when I saw my intended trail leading off to the right, away from the crowded road. It was great to get on to a proper hiking path, with dirt under my boots rather than bitumen. The trail was also much less busy, and I began to enjoy the scenery as it led upwards.

The views got more and more impressive, until finally I reached a pretty waterfall.

The path then continued up to the Valley of the Five Lakes – a justifiably famous highlight of the High Tatras. Five beautiful, perfectly clear lakes lay at the bottom of a broad valley, their water reflecting the surrounding mountains. It was a great place to stop for a bit.

There was a chalet by one of the lakes selling snacks and drinks, so I ordered a well-known Polish energy drink – beer.

Suitably refreshed, I continued my walk enjoying the wide, open countryside.

At first, I was puzzled; I could see the path stretching out ahead and then zigzagging up the base of a very steep mountain. But then it seemed to disappear, and from a distance I could see no obvious way of climbing the imposing peak that was blocking my way.

When I got closer however, I saw that my route went straight up a steep rock face, where chains had been set into the stone to help people clamber up.

Climbing with chains to Szpiglasowy Wierch

Bears are good at climbing, and this made a pleasant change to the increasingly steep walking I had been doing. Soon I was on top of the utterly unpronounceable peak “Szpiglasowy Wierch” and was rewarded with some of the most amazing mountain scenery I had ever seen, with a 360-degree view of the peaks and lakes of the High Tatras.

More amazing views – Szpiglasowy Wierch, High Tatras

Having invested so much effort to get up, I spent thirty minutes at the top, finding myself a nice little nook away from the steady stream of climbers arriving and descending. Invigorated by the view, I started the descent to another of the High Tatras’ famous attractions – the large mountain lake, Morskie Oko, or “the eye of the sea”. This part of the hike was less impressive – a steady, slow descent along a well-paved trail. The famously skilled Polish builders also seemed to have been busy in the park; the trails were often made of carefully laid mountain rocks, offering a flat staircase to walk up or down.

I arrived at Morskie Oko to find a mountain lake that was slightly bigger than the ones I had seen before, and a chalet selling food and drink, which was besieged by hundreds of visitors.

After the tranquil beauty of the Valley of the Five Lakes and the spectacular views from Szpiglasowy Wierch, it was a disappointment. Morskie Oko suffers hugely from its popularity and its accessibility – to get there is a 5km hike from the park entrance along a gently sloping asphalted road.

It was along this road that I had to hike back, accompanied by hundreds of other people – some with backpacks looking fit and serious, others in T-shirts carrying pints of beer – and the inevitable horse-drawn carriages. It was an anticlimactic way to end what had been until then a truly memorable hike, and I hurried to finish it as quickly as I could. Arriving back at my car park, I had covered around 26km, and was glad to be able to sit down.

It has been a strange walk – most of it was memorable, amongst the best hiking I had ever done, but the very last part was extremely boring and initially spoiled my enjoyment. However, after a few days, the memory of the dull plod back from Morskie Oko faded, leaving the happy memories of the Valley of the Five Lakes and the views from the top of Szpiglasowy Wierch. So, to end on a high note, here are a few more photos of the best of the Polish Tatras.

High Tatras scenery – Valley of the Five Lakes

Back at my chalet I cooked burgers and steak on my barbecue and had the pleasant task of finishing off the stocks of food and alcohol I bought for my stay in the mountains (perhaps deliberately, I had bought a little too much of each). The next day I was due to leave the Tatras for a completely different type of travel experience.

Next Post – Auschwitz

Previous Post – Rafting and Hiking in Slovenia and Poland

21st September 2023 2

Hiking in Štrbské Pleso, Slovakia and rafting the Dunajec Gorge, Poland

The next day I decided to explore the Tatras from the Slovak side. The border was only 20km and soon I was in Slovakia enjoying a different perspective of the mountains. On this side they are higher and rise straight up from a flat green plane.

After an hour, I reached a town called Tatry-Štrbské Pleso. It looked a smart Alpine ski resort town in France or Switzerland. Since I had set off a bit late, nearly all of the usual parking spaces were already taken. The only place left was the car park of the Kempinski Hotel. A sign at the entrance announced that they charged a very steep 30 euros a day. With no other choice, I drove in and had a stroke of luck – the machine that issued timed entry tickets for the car park was broken, and the hotel’s reception said that I could park for free.

The town was located on a mountain lake. A path leading around the edge seemed to be a popular outing for visitors, and also offered some nice views of the mountains.

After strolling around for a bit, I set off on my main walk – out of the town and a short way into the mountains to another, smaller lake. It was pretty but not very demanding – which was fine, since I was feeling rather lazy. Maybe another day I will try one of the more strenuous routes from Štrbské Pleso, some of which go right up into the High Tatras – including the climb to Mount Rysy on the Polish border, the highest point in the Tatras mountains.

I ate my sandwiches by the side of the lake before heading back to the Kempinski, where I invested the saving I had made on parking by enjoying their special offer for a cocktail and an alcohol-infused cake. My editorial assistant had to sit and watch me eat and drink, since Slovakia has a zero mg/ml alcohol limit for driving. I don’t pity them too much though, since following me on my travels around the world is a pretty cool job.

Ordered for two but eaten by one – Kempinski Hotel, Strbske-Pleso

The following day I tried something different – rafting down the Dunajec River Gorge, a little way to the east from where I was staying. The road there took me through Slovakia again, with many neat and pretty mountain villages and some nice views of the Tatras.

More Slovak Tatras scenery near Štrbské Pleso

I stopped for lunch at a town on the river called Szczawnica back in Poland – don’t ask me how this pronounced, I am constantly amazed at the Polish language’s refusal to use vowels. This was the arrival point for the various rafting options and I ordered some more excellent local trout whilst watching the river traffic.

The most popular and famous option for visiting the gorge, recommended in all the guide books, is with a local rafting cooperative. Their rafts are large square constructions manned by two men dressed in traditional costume, who stand and steer the raft with poles. The raft has rows of seats for up to 25 tourists. These vessels move very slowly, and the people arriving looked rather bored, so instead I decided to hire a kayak and paddle myself.

I drove back to one of the hire companies I had seen at the approach to the town, and from there they took me in a mini-bus to a place 17km upstream where they kept their kayaks. I set off and paddled downstream, assisted by a gentle current.

The start of my rafting on the Dunajec Gorge

It was good fun, even if the scenery was pleasant rather than spectacular. I liked the way that cliffs closed in on both sides of the river, even if this meant that the gorge was in the shade and it was hard to take good pictures. There are no real rapids in the gorge, but you still have to navigate carefully to avoid getting grounded in the shallow parts of the river. After three hours I had arrived back at the kayak base, with tired arms. I was also a bit wet, but my fur helped me keep warmer than the human tourists making the trip.

It had been a another good, but slightly lazy day. Back at my chalet I had some steak and got an early night in anticipation of some rather more strenuous hiking the next day.

Next Post: High Tatras – the Valley of the Five Lakes and Szpiglasowy Wierch

Previous Post: The Tatras Mountains

20th September 2023 3