Is what a woman said when her mobile rang, a bit like “oh, yeh, well the fact I’m on one of the most famous little narrow-gauge trains in the world means nothing to me, I’m just getting from A to B” Which, of course, she was! Original, genuine, poetic, impressive, outstanding, audacious… not quite the 07h37 to Victoria is it, but that’s how the regional council describes our two little yellow & red wooden wagons rattling along, winding through the gorges and mountain villages of the Conflent and Cerdagne… “you can amuse yourself by shouting out with joy when the train whistles and enters a tunnel”… to the top of the world. Well, the border at the twin towns of Bourg Madame & Puigcerda, which is where we walked across the river, into Spain and had a satisfying lunch in a Basque café. The skies were dramatic, the fields blanched still and snowdrifts on roads, black mountains rearing up, deep valleys hiding icy streams and abandoned houses. Err, Nahuja, Estavar, Via, Olette, Saillagouse, all flashed by (nobody wanted to get off ), blue enamel plaques on the little station houses, white snow cushioning their platform seats.
We met a man from Beziers who plays a hurdy-gurdy in a folkdance group – which shows you can travel through the deepest valley and still end up talking about the wonder of the Auvergne bourrée.
Images: which way is it to..?; Cambra d’Ase in the Pyrénées looking like an ECM CD cover; Mont Louis sunset.
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