If West Virgina is almost heaven, what’s this going to be?

Thanks to a mention in Andy Howell’s blog, I’ll soon be spending time here...



...at the Maison Willert, in Lescun, on the French side of the Pyrenees. I’ve got my Kev Reynolds. I’ve got my Carte de Randonnées. I’ve got my little, light rucksack in training here on the floor of my office. (I find that a well-exercised and at least moderately fit pack complains less than a flabby one.)

I am, in short, ready to roll. Not everyone on this trip is a walker, which is too bad for them, but otherwise pretty handy. A and I, and sometimes P, can stroll off in the morning, wander along our route, appreciating gorgeous lakes, impressive summits, and stunning views, fighting off bears and marmots, then return to elegantly prepared repasts and flagons of local wines carefully chosen. A Floc de Gascogne, of course, either to start or finish. Or both. We can do this, if we like, every day for a week. I’m pretty sure we’re not going to want to come back.