life in Ulaanbaatar

Living in Ulaanbaatar means not being in a hurry. The city centre is about 5km from my apartment. Some days it takes 5 minutes, other days 1 hour; no rhyme or reason. We are a week into the (very) hot weather and having moved outside town is the smartest move we have made to date. Getting irked by traffic is not an option, it wastes too much energy; this is a commonly held view resulting in a pleasantly placid non-threatening atmosphere. (We are in the apartment block, the president's palace is the big white bulding)

At the bottom of our driveway the Tuul River meanders along the southern limits of the city. Tull means 'to meander through' in Mongolian. The 800km long river has long been held sacred by the Mongols, presumably because of the naturally arid nature of the country.

Tuul River is a very popular place for swimming, gathering and barbecues. In the evening groups of friends and families hang out on the riverbank; playing, splashing, eating, talking and generally having a nice time away from the stinging heat. The water comes from the mountains and retains its cool freshness. With temperatures remaining well over 35C during the day (and above 25C most nights) plunging into the water is the only way of keeping cool. Mountains surround our apartment, acting as an oven. There is no air-conditioning and little breeze. It may not be the Grand Plage in St Jean de Luz but without the river life would be a lot less tolerable; sharing it with horses and goats is simply a bonus.

Mongolian of the day:- good evening :: oroin mend

overlooking St Jean de Luz

The sun shone brightly on St Jean de Luz yesterday. Towering in the background the Pyrenees are omnipresent. Standing proudly at the head of the mountain chain stands La Rhune at 905m high (nearly the same height as Snowdon). Having been here for almost 18 months I figured it was about time I went to the top of the mountain. I've walked its foothills many times but have never taken the time to climb to the top even though it's only a 3 hour hike. However, there is an alternative. A cog-link train drags itself to the summit every 40 minutes or so and proves to be a popular tourist attraction. With my in-laws in tow we set forth.

It reminded me of being on a big dipper as we cranked our way upwards, I just hoped that once we reached the top we wouldn't be hurtling down the other side at stomach wrenching speeds. Not so. Dotted across the mountainside were 'pottok' ponies. A breed unique to the Pyrenees and akin to Shetland ponies. Circling above them various birds of prey sought out their next meal.

The view from up there is quite amazing. The Basque country is laid out below. To the north the beaches stretch up towards Bordeaux. To the south San Sebastian reminds you of lunch. Westwards the mountains rise and fall into the distance and eastwards St Jean de Luz glistens by the Atlantic. Even my mother-in-law was impressed.

Basque of the day:- view :: ikusmen

frustated in St Jean de Luz

After an active week in St Jean de Luz (skiing, flamenco, running) I aimed to continue my diet regime with a day of raquettes. Heading inland I drove towards the Foret d'Iraty some 70 kilometres away. Passing behind La Rhune the landscape changes quickly. High mountains and steep valleys engulf you. Picturesque Basque villages nestle amongst the forests. As I headed beyond the lovely town of St Jean Pied de Port (Saint John at the foot of the mountains) the road became smaller and the ascent steeper. St Jean Pied de Port was razed to the ground by Richard the Lionheart in 1177 and was once part of the Navarre region of Spain. It is still a Basque bastion with the language spoken widely here.

Rising above the valley the road started to challenge my vertigo. The views were enormous but I was intent on focusing on the road. I soon reached the snow line and the drive became slower. With 15km to go snow started to appear on the road and fall from above. The going became ever slower. Cars could be seen deserted at the side of the road. I put on my snow chains and ventured on upwards, slowly. The trees were thickly coated in snow and the temperature plunged. With 2km to go I stopped. Ahead of me on the hill were a line of abandoned cars. Cutting my losses I reluctantly headed back to St Jean de Luz. The winter braderie is on this weekend so I cheered myself up with some retail therapy. I will try again next week.

Basque of the day:- danger :: arrisku

skiing near St Jean de Luz

There is a lot of skiing to be had near St Jean de Luz. Within a short car journey you can be at any one of 25 resorts in the Pyrenees. Given the snowfall we had this week skiing was top of the agenda. Setting off before breakfast we headed to Bareges La Mongie. It's about two hours away on the other side of Lourdes (which is handy if you break a bone on the piste).

Bareges is a good sized resort with more than enough skiing for everyone and more importantly, no queues! The sun shone brightly so after lathering on some factor 50 we took the chairlift up the mountain. It was my first outing this season so I was glad to have a couple of youngsters in tow which meant I could justify taking it a little more sedately. That said after eight hours of non-stop skiing my legs were killing me. Although the majorty of pistes are blue, many of these would definitely be red in other resorts. Similarly many of the reds are more akin to black - be warned! Given the temperature (it was hot by mid afternoon) there was a 70% avalanche warning in place which always adds a little spice to the days events. I had forgotten how good the Pyrenees are, far better than the Alps in my opinion. I am planning another trip next week. I hope my legs recover in time.

Basque of the day:- ski :: eski

breakfast in St Jean de Luz

The first hour of sunlight is one of my favourite times in St Jean de Luz. I try to get out for a run just before the sun rises, heading up a sleepy Rue Gambetta, past Ravel's house, back along the promenade and up to the little hill at St Barbe that sticks out into the ocean. If I time it right I catch a wonderful glimpse deep into the Pyrenees while the air remains crisp and clear.

Having spent most of my life living in cities it is still a shock to see such vast views everywhere I look. When I lived in cities I was concerned with my immediate vicinity, down here I have so much to take in that any concerns readily dissolve. It is a joy.

St Jean de Luz is nestled deep in the Basque country, right in the corner of the Bay of Biscay where France meets Spain. There are often many aeroplane contrails lining the sky, and they all seem to take a similar change of direction directly above. I imagine such a perpendicular geography makes an easily identifiable landmark, reminding pilots of their route.

First thing in the morning it is a busy route for long-haul flights from Spain, Africa and northern Europe but thankfully they are all flying so high there is no noise pollution, only Etch'a'sketch scribblings. All those people heading to so many destinations oblivious of the worlds beneath them.

Basque of the day:- big :: handi

St Jean de Luz kindergarten

A friend from St Jean de Luz seconded me into babysitting duties today. Rather than sit around playing a game or watching a movie I took her children for a walk up the nearby mountain, La Rhune. After packing a wee picnic we set forth carrying two sets of binoculars in search of monsters and dragons. I quickly realised that children have significantly more energy than adults, I was exhausted by the time we got onto the hill proper.

The mountain is exactly the shape a child would draw: conical with jagged rocky edges. The weather was fine and we made good progress. Autumn has finally arrived and the trees offered a magnificent display of burnt reds and oranges. Butterflies flitted by readying themselves for winter, gathering sustenance and seeking shelter.

La Rhune is home to an abundance of wild ponies. They are very inquisitive creatures. They are also plentiful, I had expected to perhaps see one or two, I counted at least twenty. I fear I may have caused a problem by proclaiming they were the dragons we were seeking, the youngest of the children was very tearful and hid behind me whenever a pony came near. I was a little wary and made sure we kept in front of them, they looked like they pack quite a kick.

The views from the mountain are terrific. On one side the Atlantic stretches into the distance. with the coastal towns of Biarritz, St Jean de Luz and Hendaye clinging to the edge of its shores. On the other side the Pyrenees rise into the skies. It is quite a breathtaking contrast.

We walked close to the message that was burned into the mountain-side demanding that the authorities resist ruining the landscape by building a tunnel straight through the mountain. How anyone could even contemplate destroying this astounding beauty is beyond me. I just hope that the demonstration in Bayonne this Saturday makes those in power think again.

The Basque country continues to surprise me, it is one of the most beautiful regions on earth. We returned home safely to hot chocolate and cookies, but no sign of any monsters.

Basque of the day:- beauty :: edertasun

deep in the Pays Basque

Leaving St Jean de Luz eaerly this morning I headed into Basque heartland of the Pyrenees with my friends Bruno and Pascale (together with their perfect children). After a two hour drive following the rhythm of the mountains we arrived at Les Gorges de Kakuetta.

One of the wildest spots in Europe, Kakuetta is described as the Amazonia of the temperate latitudes. The breathtakingly high dripping wet gorge winds through the Pyrenees for several kilometres before arriving at the Grotte aux Lacs. A stunning array of ancient stalactites and stalagmites create the feel of being in another world. Walking through the gorge is walking through history. At the entrance stands an C11th church, the gorge itself has been eroded over millenia. High above the rich vegetation has offered abundant pasture to herds of livestock over the centuries. Very little has changed in the gorge or in the surrounding villages. The sound of fauna and scent of flora have not altered. If you close your eyes you can imagine being in almost any century.

Basque of the day:- ancient :: antzinakoak

Pyrenees beats the Alps, no contest

Whoever said skiing in the Pyrenees was tame compared to the Alps had clearly never spent a hot March day pursuing the pistes of Barèges-La Mongie. It is a wonderful ski station situated about 30 minutes from Lourdes, 45 from Pau and 2 hours from St Jean de Luz. It offers everything any skier could want, including the longest blue run in Europe at 14 kilometres, easy but exhausting!

The sun was high in the sky, sun terraces full but not busy and by mid afternoon avalanches were rife. It is quite a sight to see a tsunami of snow disappear beneath your chairlift. Keyword for today was simplicity. We got to the slopes easily, hired the comfiest boots I've ever enjoyed, took the free bus from Barèges to the slopes, lunched in leisure, didn't experience any queues despite the glorious weather and were often the sole occupants of the wide pistes. Quite fabulous! We are hoping to return in a couple of days for some more powder fun, but only if my sunburn fades...

Basque of the day:- ski :: eskiatu

afternoon tea with the ladies

Another difficult day in St Jean de Luz. Following a walk along the coast we headed to the local town of Ascain to visit our friend Pascale for afternoon tea. Ascain is nestled at the foot of La Rhune at the start of the Pyrenees. It is a charming traditional Basque town and its quiet beauty is a complete contrast with the buzzing busier St Jean de Luz.

Following the weekend I had just enjoyed I felt able to cope with another all girl situation. We readily consumed delicious freshly baked cake, drank coffee and discovered exactly who was sleeping with who and other pertinent local gossip. It may be fun drinking beer at the pub but sometimes girls' chat is far more interesting.

I must remember when I come back in my next life to be born in France, children don't have school on Wednesdays and get two hours lunch break on other days. After speaking with Pascale's delightful children I also learned that in French, Shaggy from Scooby-Doo is called Sammy and that there is no word in French for fairy - how impressively macho.

Basque of the day:- gossip :: hitzontzi

Basque inspiration

I figured today it was about time I did some work. After sitting in my office for a couple of hours, mostly tidying shelves, stacking pencils and undertaking other work-avoidance tactics, I felt bereft of inspiration. Then I looked out of the window...
After several days of wintry weather, the sun has broken through at last. The mountains loomed ever closer and even the beach felt nervously alluring.
Perhaps I'll leave it another couple of weeks before I go swimming but it was nice to be tempted. It turned into a rather fruitful day.

Basque of the day:- landscape :: paisaia

disco mountain

The remnants of the storm persist, or if you believe the news, hurricane. The Pyrenees are providing us with a fantastic light show this evening as the storm strobes across the mountains. Echoing Enid Blyton there are also lashings and lashings of white stuff, though this time it's hailstones and not cream. We have remained firmly rooted indoors most of the day (save a quick sortie into Spain for some supplies).

Basque of the day:- thunder :: trumoi

le lion, la sorcière et la garde-robe

Bored with my birthday grumping Maria sought to cure my blues. We ventured deep into the Pyrenees to a wee place called La Pierre St Martin. Keen to try something new we opted to go snow shoe trekking and adorned comically large flat clawed feet accordingly. Planning our route we set out on a short eight kilometre walk not knowing what to expect. We quickly got the hang of how to walk in 'raquettes' and both gained confidence that even walking up the most icy of slopes we were slip-and-slide-proof!

We trekked onwards into a wonderous snow clad forest half hidden from the wind beneath high cliff tops. Here and there were different sets of footprints and we imagined what animals could have caused them, both mildly cognicent that in these parts bears dwell (though we convinced ourselves that they would most certainly be mid-hibernation at this time!). We walked alone through the ancient forest, up and down hidden hills, past frozen streams and mighty icicle formations. The sound of silence stifled all thoughts of the outside world and for a few hours we we were both walking in Narnia.

For anyone who has toyed with the idea of snow trekking I cannot express how lovely an experience it is, guaranteed to buoy your mood and evaporate your blues.

Basque of the day:- imagination :: iruditze

snowy white petrol

We awoke to masses of snowfall shining off the mountains in a most splendid wintry sun. As such we opted to find somewhere to build a snowman and partake in a spot of sledging. Heading across the snowy Pyrenees we had lunch in St Jean Pied de Port.

Driving on we ascended the valley of d'Iraty, which is well-known for cross-country skiing, something I fancy having a bash at. After six kilometres of vertical climb I decided that although we have a Swedish car with chains on I ain't happy with all this slipping and sliding on cliff edges. I chickened out and drove back to another route which headed over into Spain. This one was blocked too, though there were some great mountain goats. We figured it was our punishment for bunking off school on a Monday and chose an easier route to Spain to enjoy a hot chocolate sat beside a log fire.

Post hot chocolate I went to fill the car with petrol. It is so much more cost effective doing so in Spain even though it is only 20 miles from St Jean de Luz. A full tank cost me EUR40 today, bargain!

Basque of the day:- snow :: elur

tapas and tailwinds

We are taking a wager. For the third Saturday it is beautifully sunny and mild but there is a howling gale threatening to rouse itself. On previous such occasions it was followed by several days of rain, we shall wait and see but the ten day forecast is not hot, sorry Mum (ma mère et père me rendent visite cette semaine)...

We took advantage of the weather and headed off into the Pyrenees for a bit of walking. The view back towards the coast is wonderful, though our fitness levels are not! We scaled halfway up La Rhune but determined to finish the walk another day. The reason was twofold. Firstly we had been told that hefty blizzards were on their way and we could see clouds streaming across the mountain tops. Secondly we figured it was a more fun option to drive on to Pamplona for tapas and sangria. A no-brainer really!

Pamplona is a wonderful city. As capital of the Navarre region in Spain it is heavily steeped in history from general Pompey's camp site in 75BC, the destruction of the city walls by Charlemagne in 778AD, Napoleonic occupation in 1808 to the omni-present festival of San Fermin - more commonly known as the Bull Run - which has continued to grow in appeal since the C13th. Navarre is the primary Basque region in Spain.

It is odd criss-crossing the French-Spanish border because it is far less noticeable than crossing from Gascony to Pays Basque or Aragon to Navarre. The architecture is similar, there is a common beauty in the appearance of the people, the landscapes remain stunning and there is an inextricable bond in the Basque language. We are looking forward to exploring this further.

Word has it that I have volunteered to run the bulls next year so this blog may get cut short in July...

Basque of the day:- hello :: agur

snow and wicca

Icy cold day today. La Rhune was snow-capped for the first time that we've seen, very pretty too. The mountain looms ever present, residing over St Jean de Luz. The maps say it is almost 1000m high, making it the same height as Scafell Pike, almost as high as Snowdon and a definite Munro. Although it rises from sea-level at the western end of the Pyrenees it never actually looks that high.

They say that the name translates in Basque as 'good pastures' and it is with Basque culture that La Rhune (or Larrun in Basque) is held in highest esteem. Many myths and legends surround the mountain. Until the late C18th locals paid a monk to dwell on the mountain full time in order to ward off the hoards of witches it was believed lived atop the mountain. So prolific were witches in these parts that the Spanish Inquisition undertook its most ambitious witch trials in the C17th just over the border in Navarre. Goya's 'Le Sabbat de Sorcieres' depicts wicca in practice.

I haven't seen any witches yet but will let you know if I do.