Much like many of the other small towns in the area, there is about one road that runs through with a few restaurant/bar/hotels next to a bunch of souvenir/ski rental shops. The towns have what you need, but don't expect anything fancy. We stayed at Hotel L'Astazou, and the only thing worth mentioning about it is the owner: a small, raspy-voiced woman who smokes like a chimney (although she has "cut back") and would happily hold you up all day, talking your ear off about everything that's wrong with the world. She was nice enough but if you choose to stay there, expect 20 minutes of chatting upon entering or exiting the hotel.
Friday night was fairly low-key in preparation for a day on the slopes on Saturday. Everyone but Rick had to rent gear and the process went very smoothly and quickly. The ski station is about a 15-minute drive from the town of Gavarnie, straight up a fairly windy road. There is a bus that leaves from town but it only has a few departures and returns each day. In sharp contrast to Andorra, we got our boards, drove up to the station to buy our passes and we were on the lifts in less than an hour, and for about half the price. There are "only" 28 pistes in Gavarnie in comparison to literally the entire country of Andorra being one giant ski slope, but with our limited snowboarding abilities, we were perfectly happy with the offerings.
We couldn't have asked for a better day weather-wise. It was cold and windy, sure, but that's any mountaintop in February. We had some sun and some clouds, and while our faces got a little shredded with icy snow on the lifts, every time we got off, it cleared up so we could actually see where we were going.
I was eager to check out all the slopes, but after Jason's near-concussion (or full-blown concussion, apparently???) last year, I was extra vigilant and made sure he was comfortable on the board before leaving him. It was also nice having Laura around since they are at about the same level and could look out for each other a bit. She seemed to be picking things up a little quicker, but confidence is a dangerous thing, and her boldness resulted in a pretty nasty wipe-out that had her holed up in the lodge for the rest of the day. Jason probably could have done a bit more but his boots were bugging him and he declared his retirement from snowboarding.
Rick and I stayed out until our legs felt like jello, which, to be honest, wasn't much longer. It is incredible how tiring it can be to slide down a mountain on a piece of fiberglass. We hit a few other runs and still didn't even come close to seeing the whole place. I am still a fairly cautious snowboarder so the blue slopes in the Pyrenees are perfect for me: long, gently curving routes that allow you to pick up just enough speed to feel like a bad ass but not enough to actually hurt yourself too badly. It was a great day.
Back in town, there was some random ice band that was playing. Can't say the music was really my thing but there was hot wine and fire logs so I was happy.
We were certainly not up for another day of snowboarding but it seemed like a waste to just go straight back to Bordeaux. We had a few hours to kill, so we got some snowshoes and took a little walk in the woods. In the spring, you can hike up to the Cirque de Gavarnie, this beautiful rock formation with waterfalls and such, but those routes were all closed for the season. We will definitely have to make a return trip. Gavarnie is great!
How many engineers does it take to build a snowman? |
On the way back to the slightly warmer, significantly wetter climes of Bordeaux, we were all pretty tired but happy. So maybe it's not the traditional way to spend Valentine's Day, but I think we did all right.
Napoleon Bridge. So high!! |
See you in the summer, Pyrenees! |