Getting There

Our trips to Irati and the Valle de Oma were great fun, and half the fun (and frustration*) was just getting there. To get to Irati on Saturday we drove south east to Pamps (Aussie for Pamplona) and then northwards. Since much of the Basque Country is mountainous and has a wet climate, there's lots of stunning scenery to be had. A good part of the main highway we were on cut through jutting mountains and dramatic outcrops; away from the main highway we passed by little villages nestled up next to hillsides, gently rolling hills covered with many shades of green and grazing animals of one kind or another, and lots of twisty curvy windy goodness. I took some pics to give you an idea of what it was like, but really they don't capture even half of how beautiful it is.

So you all will have to get your butts over here and see for yourselves.

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Here's our friend the ram (aharia) (sorry the pic's a bit dark; will try to lighten up later). I was very pleased to see all the grazing animals along the way and kept pointing them out to Jules and Val, and most the time in Basque--ardiak! (sheep!) behiak! (cows!)--and I'm sure I quickly became annoying given that I am not two years old. But I couldn't really resist, and I have to practice my Basque, don't I?

Here'a a bit of Navarra, on the way back to Pamps from Irati:



Sunday's trip to Valle de Oma took us in a westerly direction. Here are some bits of Vizcaya:




At the entrance to the Painted Forest, there was a pen that contained this little guy--he's a basurde (boar):


He was really cute--there were some people playing a game at the caserío-restaurante just across the road, and he stood there a while watching and wagging his little piggy tail.

*Despite having two maps, it was not always easy finding our way around. We missed the highway exchange we expected to find at Pamps, and finally we ended up going into town hoping to see useful signs pointing us in the right direction. Nada. We pulled into a parking lot and asked a Pamps version of Dennis Hopper (but cuter and less scary) for some help. He informed us that we were way off and told us to follow him, giving us an impromptu 10 minute tour of Pamps. No idea where he needed to go himself, so we were very grateful for Mr. Nice Pamps leading the guiris around, depositing us in a perfect spot from which to go on on our own, and keeping us from getting really annoyed with Pamplona and the damn highways and maps.