DAY 7 - Monday 24th July 1995

I have no idea to this day what it was trundling around out there in the trees, but I was glad when daylight broke. The midges where still eating me alive as I climbed out of the tent, and it must have been the quickest exit ever.

The climb was long, slow and laborious. I hadn't had any breakfast, a drink or even had a shave, as I was eager to leave France behind. To add to this sorry state of affairs, as I prepared to drink my last drops of water the bottle slipped out of my hand and I watched helpless as the water drained out onto the road. I still had several miles to go until the border, so I took the mountains at a leisurely pace to try and avoid exhaustion. The views were really outstanding at that time of the morning, with the mountain range spreads out below, mists lying between the peaks.

The day began fairly comfortably at this altitude, but as the sun came up the heat came with it. I began extremely thirsty, and there wasn't a soul around until I reached the summit and border point of Puerto de Larrau. I had expected some sort of cafe at this point, but the place was deserted except for two Spanish walkers about to sally forth onto the mountain ridge. I managed to scrounge half a litre of water from the woman (it was really nice to find Spanish people again) and set off on the slow descent into Spain, what a feeling of elation!

Some way down I found a group of four Spanish mountain bikers from Barcelona waiting for a cafe to open, so I joined them and we talked for around half an hour or so. I related the previous night's experience in the woods, and one of them told me there were no bears in this part of the Pyrenees, and if there had been one, it would have run before I had chance to scream, so I still didn't know what it was. He also told me I'd find a cool mountain stream down the hill to collect drinking water from. I could be wrong, but I swear the Spanish are much friendlier than the French.

I was now in the beautiful Valle Del Roncal. I plodded on feeling quite good now, and found a small bar in Uztárroz for cheese, salad, beer, and a plate full of olives, rounding off with flan and coffee. What a relief. When I came out the river was full of kids swimming in the sun, and I was tempted to join them all, but I took a picture instead. In Isaba I stopped for a beer and bought some oranges and peaches on he street. Half a mile down the road I came across a beautiful picnic site right by the wide, shallow river. It was here that I finally discovered peaches that I actually liked! A couple some distance away offered me a piece of melon which I graciously accepted, and we got talking. I was discovering that Spanish people are very inquisitive and lively conversationalists. I discovered that there is a serious heat wave in Spain for the second year running, which has created a major water crisis. At that precise moment, I wouldn't have believed it, sat next to a beautifully clear, cool mountain river. I even filled my water bottles from it.

I set off for Garde, missed the sign completely and went hurtling several miles past it. The scenery is fantastic round here, with towering cliff faces either side of a wonderful narrow valley, and hardly any traffic to contend with, only the ever-rising temperature. So I had to turn back, counting my blessings as the breeze blew me back up the shallow incline.

Garde is a small village in a spur valley, and I soon found the campsite, conveniently located right next to the main street. It's pleasant here, with its own tiny bar, a swimming pool, and the site itself is very small but well maintained. I was so impressed I actually went in the pool. I stretched out on the grass and seemed to attract the attentions of the swimming instructor, a woman in her late twenties, who seemed to get progressively nearer to me every time she returned to her place. She constantly kept getting up and coming back, playing different music and reading, never knowing quite what to do with herself. I must be absolutely mad, but I've got the biking bug bad!

In the evening I wandered into the village and phoned Adele, having had a well-earned rest for the afternoon.