Remains of last night’s storm were still strewn across the eastern sky this morning. But the sun struggled free just as I reached the castle and it turned into a cold but clear day.
Too early for tourists, the castle was alive with birds, who find unexpected sources of water to drink and bathe in. A leaking waterpipe has created a long damp streak on the wall, like a banner of blue silk unfurled from the ramparts, capturing the vividness of the sky. There was a constant movement of visitors clinging to the wet stones. Black redstarts, which congregate in Barcelona for the winter, flurried to and fro, chasing each other in between sips. A handsome Great tit stopped by for a while, waistcoat matching the yellow poplar leaves. A lilting flock of goldfinches arrived, sweetly calling. The House sparrows, residents of the castle walls, had their turn, as did serins, a couple of Coal tits and a Tree creeper.
Round the corner, water has collected in an old stone gutter, to which someone once hastily attached a plastic pipe. A Blue rock thrush (Monticola solitarius) disappeared inside, emerging ruffled and damp. It dried off on the end of a canon.
This port-facing side of the castle is a haven in winter, secure from the north and westerly winds. The walls act like a storage heater, absorbing the sun all day. Sweet alyssum (Lobularia maritima) has spread unchecked on the grassy slopes, its fragrance living up to its name. A faded, threadbare Red admiral sunbathed on the wall. High up near the battlements, a Painted lady (Vanessa cardui) spread its wings on a plant rooted between two stones. Crag martins turned circles over the dazzling sea, over the castle and the half-bare fig tree. They only come in winter, but their leisurely swoops remind you of summer.
Barcelona, Birds, Insects, Montjuic | Tags: bird bath, black redstart, Blue rock thrush, Crag martin, goldfinch, lobularia maritima, Monticola solitarius, Montjuic castle, painted lady, sweet alyssum, Vanessa cardui|
There’s an air of expectation about the village of Espot. Hikers are shouldering their packs. The main drag is lined with jeep taxis, ready to run people as far as the Sant Maurici lake. No sooner had I arrived, I was longing to be off, up the long Escrita valley, to the lakes and high peaks.
For Espot is essentially a place for practicalities, somewhere to find food and a bed: a good base for exploring the Aigüestortes and Sant Maurici National Park. It was only after three days, when a storm chased me down early from the heights, that I went to look around.
The river Escrita runs west to east and divides the village into Espot Solau (sunny) and Espot Obago (shady). The Solau is the flatter side- it’s where the wealthier villagers established their homes in the past. There’s the usual smattering of cranes as apartments go up. A new complex advertises “the privilege of living in the Solau”. You too can have your place in the sun.
But there’s still a meadow, recently mowed, and the old slate roofs have rustied over with a moss that glows mustard yellow in the sun.
Over on the shady side, the houses shelter close together on steep and narrow streets. Cats slip through gaps under wooden doors. Near the top, sheep were bleating inside a barn. Stone, slate and wood, and the occasional boulder, are the building materials.
After the downpour, children, supervised by their grandmothers, were back out playing, and birds had resumed their activities. In Espot Solau, there was a constant traffic of swallows flying in and out of a half-restored barn. A bunch of young Crag martins (Ptyonoprogne rupestris) perched on the end of a wooden beam.
They exercised their wings, took short flights and begged - off each other as much as their parents.
Aiguestortes and Sant Maurici national park, Birds, Pyrenees, Trip reports | Tags: Crag martin, Espot, National Park of Aigüestortes and Sant Maurici, Ptyonoprogne rupestris, walking in the Pyrenees|
