Auch

We had driven through Auch a week or ten days earlier--topped off our LPG there--and were intrigued by the cathedral and its setting. After reading about the cathedral, and Napoleon's proposal to simply move its glass and wood carving to museums in Paris, we were determined to see it. We arrived mid-day, another scorcher, found a place to park at the municipal aire, and then walked along the river a kilometer or so to the centre ville.

We elected not to spend the night in Auch, but rather to practice safe camping
near Condom, on higher ground

On the walk to the old city, a pooch pissing post, something we'd
not seen before, but which apparently is common in this past of
France

The river Gers and its levee, an unusual pigeon roost

Everything is tree-lined in this beautiful part of France

The 235 steps from the river up to the old town--the Escalier 
Monumentale--are getting some restoration, and, alas, the
famous statue of D'Artagnan is not at its best for viewing
(D'Artagnan, of but not one of, The Three Musketeers,
was based on a local, Charles de Batz)

Another view

Near the top of the Escalier Monumentale, much Latin, in bronze

A beautiful old building on the town square,
now housing the Office of Tourism

After spending a couple hours in the cathedral (next post) we walked the main
street and shoppes; here, inside one of the largest independent toy stores I have
ever seen; they also had cool stuff too

Old market building

A view of Auch from the river

Gargas

Prehistoric cave paintings have been an interest of ours since we saw Lascaux (II) in 1989 and also Pech Merle. I had already acquired a fascination with hands-in-negative painting (spraying paint over one's hand, leaving its outline) and saw my first such at Pech Merle. On our more recent travels we have visited Alta Mira (II) and the Cueva de la Pileta near Ronda, Spain. My recollection is that Pech Merle has one hand-in-negative, that Alta Mira has three, and Lascaux and Cueva de la Pileta have none. There are some 500 hands-in-negative prehistoric paintings known in Europe. Nearly half of them are at Gargas. But hands-in-negative are found all over the world; one of my favorite examples is from South America. In any case, they have become a symbol for art and perhaps a symbol for humanity.

Gargas is really two caves, the upper being Magdalenian, with abstract symbols and animal paintings (species now extinct), about 15,000 years old now; the lower is Gravettian, recently carbon-dated to 26,000 years ago, and that's where all the hands-in-negative paintings are. Unlike Lascaux and Alta Mira, one can actually go into Gargas and see the real things, or some of them. Reservations are required, visits are guided, numbers entering are limited, and tour/visits can last no more than 50 minutes. All for preservation purposes. There is a strict no fotos in the caves policy, and, uncharacteristically, I complied with it. Alas, there is very little of Gargas on the web, so I have little to show except the following, some of which are off the web and some of which are photos of photos.

The visitor/interpretive center; and gift shoppe; the
interpretive stuff was quite good, with representations of
many of the items the tours don't see

Actual entrance to actual cave

Alcove image that has become the symbol of the place; at
Gargas many of the hands have shortened or missing digits;
earlier this was seen as mutilation, some sort of "religious"
rite; more recently theorists think the digits are simply
turned inward or downward and that the whole was some
form of "communication"...

Example from the interpretive center 

Off the web and perhaps digitally enhanced; but you get
the picture...as I recall, this is sort of how catchers communicate
with pitchers in American baseball...reading left to right and
top to bottom, these say screwball, slider, inside curve, fastball,
outside curve, change-up...

In the Cave of the Hands, near Santa Cruz, Argentina,
c. 7,000-11,000 BCE (off the web); I want to go there...
[and I did, eventually; see posts starting at
https://roadeveron.blogspot.com/2017/02/cueva-de-las-manos-1.html]

En Route To Gargas

Our next destination was the great prehistoric cave at Gargas, and getting there took us across more of the Pyrenees-Atlantique and the Haute-Pyrenees.

Part of the way we were on the Route du Fromage

Which required the purchase of at least a small round of Basque cheese (which
we were still eating in Paris awaiting our return fight to the US)

Gentle countryside, bucolic, the haze yet with us

An interesting church with trinitarian steeple and crenallated
entry

A 12th century church and stop on the Camino de Santiago; the whole Camino is
on the World Heritage Site list, which means that every little hamlet and hamlet
church for hundreds (thousands?) of miles can claim to be a World Heritage Site;
some caution is needed in choosing sites to visit here

The walled town/bastide of Navarrenx

Main entrance and sallyport

And then the Find of the Day, Navarrenx' thirteenth century (1280, to be exact) still
completely functional bridge; we drove across it twice before we realized what it
was; a marvel not in any of our guidebooks! Note the vastly different sized arches

Iparla And Iparla Ridge

According to our guidebooks, the two must-see sights in the Pyrenees are the Pic du Midi and the Gavarnie Cirque and Cascade. J'ai été là; je n'ai fait que. Another guidebook said that the best day-hike in all the Pyrenees was the ascent of Iparla and a walk along its ridge, a loop trail. Next day we drove out to the trail-head and its "parking area," a wider-spot in the country lane--we ended up parking at an intersection half a mile down the lane--and I did the Iparla day-hike.

For all I know, it may well be the best day-hike in the Pyrenees. It would have been a great deal better for me if a) it had been 20, no, 30 degrees cooler, b) the flies and gnats had been less numerous and relentless, c) the guidebook directions had been a little clearer, d) the clear morning had not turned into a soupy haze, and e) the sudden thunderstorm had gone a different way and not caught me in the middle of a long ridge, where I had to ride it out sitting and then lying in the trail some few feet down from the ridge top, with no protection, and a lot of time to ponder "post funera, virtus vivit." In other words, it was a hot, dry, muggy, buggy, miserable trudge up a valley and then across a face and up a couloir, 1000m up all told, to see little but haze, and then get pelted by wind, rain, hail, but, fortunately, not lightning. The walk down was through a pretty forest, I think; the flies and gnats were too dense to see much of anything once down off the ridge. Did I mention the five vicious farm dogs I had to fight off, literally, with my hiking poles, walking back the country lane to the camper?

There is always the satisfaction of outdoor achievement and the thrill of a summit, nearly any summit. But I will not do this one again.

Trailhead signage; last of the signage on this trail, although it was excellently
blazed above tree-line

Iparla and ridge

A bit of the trail, a bit before the couloir; a griffon vulture sails by: look alive...

Atop the ridge, looking west, a lone mountain pokes through the haze

Back east, the valley I came from

Further east, more haze

Looking south along the ridge

Summit marker

A bit of the valley trail and two of the shepherd's huts it
passed

Cliff-dwelling sheep

The thunderstorm approaches; it didn't look that bad, until the thunder started;
I lay low for an hour or so until it passed

On the way down, looking back at Iparla ridge

In the forest; for all the other issues, it was a very nice loop

Fixer-upper shepherd's hut

St. Jean Pied De Port

Driving east and down from Roncesvalles we were looking desperately for a lay-by where we could a) run our generator and thus our air conditioner and b) stay for the night. It was incredibly hot, even in the mountains. We never found said place, although there were a couple prospects. At length, we landed in the beautiful little Medieval town of St. Jean Pied de Port, which I would characterize as a mini-Carcasonne. The aire there is in the city's athletics complex and can accommodate 200 RV's. Probably only 50 were there. We arrived, set-up camp, and then, stripping to our lightest clothing, walked into town, seeking shade all the way. It's a pretty, wall-girt town, Camino de Santiago to the hilt, but pleasing nonetheless. We had a crepes and wine and cider snack before returning to the camper and dinner there. It turned out that we stayed two nights at St. Jean Pied de Port, using it as a base for some more hiking in the Pyrenees.

Part of the aire at St. Jean Pied de Port

Vicki notes that we have stayed near futbol stadia, horse racetracks, acquatic
complexes, ski jumps, etc., but this was our first fronton (still in Basque country)

We were also very near the high school futbol field; but wait, those are American 
football goalposts and even an American football blocking sled...wait, no, a
second time...rugby!!!

Nonetheless, here is a view of wall-girt St. Jean Pied de Port; meaning "St. John
at the foot of the pass" (Roncevaux Pass); yeah, I thought it was about micturition
too

A pilgrims' hostel

Medieval signage and logo

Price list

Main street view

Ditto

Cheery Medieval thought: "after death, virtue lives on"

Carving at the door to local church 

Yes, it is a sort of mini-Carcassonne

But it had this wonderful produits du terroir (which we freely translated as
"terrorist shoppe") shoppe where I finally broke down and bought a can of foie 
gras

River

Seems like nearly every French tourist town now has a tourist train