The Flying Dutchman

Two evenings ago the hostess at Idiartekoborda B and B said that a guest had just arrived on bicycle and she had to drive him to a restaurant in the village for dinner.  It was understandable since the nearest place to eat was over two miles away, the road leading to the B and B was quite steep, and he had already spent the day riding over mountains  I told her I would drive him to a restaurant and have dinner with him.  It turns out he spoke very good English and was a vegetarian to boot. So, having considerable bicycling vittles in my larder I said I would prepare dinner for both of us in the B&B's communal kitchen.

Being no stranger to the best foods to consume for long distance bicycling (I did one across the state of Massachusetts long ago) I told him I would prepare a dinner of carbohydrates. A half hour latter we sat down to a plate mounded with boiled potatoes, a huge salad, baguette, and a large plate of sliced fruit for dessert.

He is riding for four weeks, starting from Bilbao, Spain (where he flew to from Holland).  This is one of several long distance bicycle trips he has taken over the past several years.  I asked why he started in Bilbao. He said he wanted to ride in the mountains.  It turns out on previous trips he has ridden up every mountain included in the routes of the Tour de France!  He said at one time he considered trying out for one of the teams.

As for my hiking adventure here on the ‘on the path less travelled’ I offer an update.  In my earlier post I panned the idea of walking a section of the Camino de Santiago (the long distance trail of the pilgrimage hike to Compostela) because of its ‘touristy’ nature.  Instead I asked my B and B hostess to recommend a hike up one of the local mountains here in the French Basque Pyrenees.

Several hours and a couple thousand feet of elevation later I slogged exhausted the last half mile, slipped and fell in a muddy stream bed that served as the last section of the trail, resulting in a scraped forearm.   Maybe I should have taken ‘the road more travelled’. 

But, there was a lovely view.

To add to my ‘celestial punishment’ for dissing the pilgrimage walk iTunes software on my computer updated my cell phone this morning into a state of ‘locked Hell’.  Fortunately, two hours later all was restored from the iCloud.

I mentioned Saint-Jean-Pied-de-Port in my previous post.  Since I was staying only several miles from it I thought I should at least go for a visit.  This starting point for the 500 some odd mile pilgrimage is chockablock with hotels and restaurants.  Tourist-knickknack shops are squeezed in between them.  I guess pilgrims need a hearty meal, a good night's rest and one of those Basque-style tams to set atop their pate before setting foot on the journey.  Not needing a tam, and in no need of lodging I decided the only way I could pay homage to those hardy souls who were about to wear their boot soles down to nothing was to have an evening meal in the city.

Here is a view of the river that runs through the town.

And here is a view of the roast leg of lamb I spent an hour consuming.

So much for talking about vegetarianism.  

Lest we forget about wine tasting, I offer notes on Irouleguy and Jurancon.  The former is in the most southwesterly wine region in that corner of France.  The predominant white grapes are Petit Manseng and Gros Manseng.  It is the first time I have tasted either of these varietals.  The wine has a certain ‘freshness’ to it, slightly acid and a moderate complexity.  The predominant red grape is tannat.  This wine is dry, dry, dry, and needs several years in the bottle to display its flavor characteristics.

Jurancon, located just outside Pau could be considered a sister region to Tokaj, Hungary.  I tasted those Hungarian wines last year on my wine sipping jaunt around that country (Tokay on the wine label).  The grapes in Jurancon like Tokaj are left on the vine in the fall till a fungus begins to grow on them (aptly called ‘the noble rot’, which was the same name given to it in the Tokaj region as well).  For comparison sake, I think the Tokaj wines are a bit thicker and sweeter (think honey).

Still in the vein of wine tasting, tomorrow I go to Limoux and spend a couple of days sampling what many consider to be the first sparkling wine (champagne) created in France.