The light in the tunnel

When I started out this morning I had no knowledge about any footpaths to Manresa. The tourist office in Monistrol didn’t have opening hours to my liking and I couldn’t get hold of any detailed maps. The GPS-device also wasn’t much of a help as it didn’t reveal any tracks at all. So, I started walking on the busy C-55 and as if the constant noise and gusts from lorries and cars wasn’t annoying enough there was this road tunnel, at least a kilometer in length and with a shelf about 15 centimeters high and maybe 80 wide for me to walk on with almost twenty kilos on my back that should be kept steady being hit by the gusts using only the 67 kilos I weigh myself. That was an experience that I’d rather had been without thank you very much. I had to use the C-55 all the way to Manresa but there I stumbled over a track that I could use for the stage to Súria. I found a very nice guest house in Súria and I also had a very tasty meal with a local touch.

An unexpected journey

The stage between Súria and Cordona became more difficult than I had expected. To begin with the track was well signposted and there was a clear path to follow but later on the track just disappeared at several occasions because farmers had ploughed away extending their fields destroying any sign of a path, and in other places the path was completely overgrown. I must give my GPS-map some credit though because when I set it up to show enough detail it actually showed me the GR-track and I could follow that instead of the missing physical path. At one occasion I tried to negotiate an easier passage around a solid wall of vegetation arguing with a wild-eyed, long-haired, long-bearded fellow that stood in a clearing behind a fence that he ought to let me pass through his gate. But he didn’t want me on his grounds even for a couple of minutes and that cost me some blood – brambles don’t let you pass easily either. Coming into Cordona I was more or less attacked by two big dogs but another rambler came to my rescue and everything ended well. I had a short rest and then asked at the tourist office how I should continue to Solsona and they told me that it was easy because the route was well signposted. I set off only to return to the same spot four hours later. At a fork in the road not far from where the track began the signpost was pointing me in the wrong direction. I had walked for quite some distance when I noticed that and it was late afternoon so I decided to walk back to Cordona and spend the evening and the night there.

Another sunny day in the track

Another relatively tough twenty five kilometers. I lost the track completely at the outskirts of Solsona but a kind man hit the brakes of his car, rushed out of it, and came to my assistance explaining that the path had been cut off (está roto) but he explained how to take an alternative route through the corn fields, ending up in the center of Solsona. I never stop to be surprised of the kindness that complete strangers show to a gentleman in his prime wearing trekking boots, yellow stockings, and a heavy backpack 🙂

In the midst of the Prepirineos

Another stage on the GR-7 that only confirms to me that it is a trail that has been a bit overrated. I think that it quite often gives you a boring walk, often on forest roads with limited outlook for mile after mile, and if not that it follows tarmac roads, or God forbid, goes in steep ravines cut out for high-voltage transmission lines and with a surface of loose rocks. Having said all that I also have to say that none of this really matters anymore as soon as the backpack is put down for the day, and you have had a shower and a cold beer 🙂

The hostess at my guest house for the day told me her name was Ingrid and that her grandfather and her mother were from Sweden, her father from Spain, and her grandmother from Switzerland! A truly cosmopolitan family.

Fakir march through the mountains

This day involved walking forty-three kilometers in heavily undulated terrain and it was almost dark when I at last walked into La Seu d’Urgell at nine o’clock in the evening. The march was made easier though by the fact that there were several restaurants in the mountains around Tuixén and halfway between Tuixén and Coll de Bancs. I think I walked on a surface of loose rocks 30 of the 43 kilometers and all of the time either steeply upwards or steeply downwards. I went through a heavily eroded area at one point where I felt very uncomfortable and almost made a huge mistake climbing down a deep ravine that would have been very difficult to get out of and that because I didn’t grasp at first where the track continued. Almost always when I get lost it is for not noticing information around me because my eyes are fixated on my feet because the often very difficult surface makes it necessary to guard every step in order to avoid stumbling or sliding. The solution to the problem is to stop frequently and have a look around. But everything went well and in the end I arrived safely to La Seu d’Urgell with only 25 kilometers left to Andorra la Vella of the about 2000 kilometers that lay before me when I started out in Tarifa some 50 days before.

Finishing in style

The last stage was a stroll in the park compared to the day before: a twenty kilometer walk in level terrain and in beautiful surroundings along the river Gran Valira. I checked in to  hotel Florida in Andorra la Vella where I had stayed once before, did some shopping for clothes and just relaxed and strolled around in the city for a couple of days. My next walking plan was taking shape in my mind and I decided to go back to Tarragona once more and walk from there to Portbou at the French border along the GR-92 that runs close to the coast of the Mediterranean Sea. But that is a different adventure that I eventually will summarise in the Adventure section of this website.

Inside the head of a hispanophile