The tiny stone-built villages of Escalona, Buerbe and Vío are just a few kilometres apart, but the road which connects them is almost 25km long with some of the sharpest and scariest hairpin bends you could imagine. The rocky path joining Buerbe and Vío is only suited and safe for the most sure-footed and agile – and then only when the weather is dry and there is no ice. Over the centuries many people taking this short cut were seriously injured when loose, razor-sharp rocks and ice or wet meant they lost their footing.
High up in the Spanish Pyrenees, life has always been very hard, and people have learned to be self-reliant. There is little point in hoping that some civil servant in faraway Madrid, sitting at a desk passing the hours until finishing time, will have the needs of tiny villages such as Escalona, Buerbe and Vío foremost on her mind. ‘Old’ Diego, and his wife ‘Old’ Maria realised this, and thought they might be able to do something about it. Diego bought a mule. He used this mule to ferry people between Buerbe and Vío. The animal was surprisingly sure-footed, and as it had grown up on the mountains, was hardy and learned to eat anything green. Good grass is a scarce commodity high up in the Pyrenees.
Almost fifty years later, ‘Young’ Diego (now in his late 70s) is still carrying on the tradition, along with his wife ‘Young’ Maria. The official one-way fare is €2, but lots of people don’t have to pay. The doctor or the priest never need pay when making a call, nor do older or sick people. Diego, of course, knows everyone in the area and decides who can or can’t (or should) pay. His decision is final. Last June a French tourist fell on the sharp rocks, twisting her ankle badly, and was charged the maximum fee for a special call-out - €5. For that €5 she was collected from where she had fallen on the track, taken to the doctor’s house, then to the nurse’s clinic, and later back to the hostel where she was staying. Unfortunately, by the time you read this, the mule service will be no more as Diego is retiring and no one wants to take over.
My daughter works with a Canadian engineer called Brian. Brian was getting married to a local Vío girl. My daughter, her husband and I were invited (I was working near Barcelona at the time). The newly-weds will live in Vío and are going to renovate the 17th century church and make it into a community centre (with the altar behind a curtain when not in use).
The wedding was held in a field 1500 metres from Vío with some of the most spectacular views of snowy mountain tops, sunshine any every shade of green, grey, brown and black you could imagine. A million butterflies of all colours and sizes gatecrashed the ceremony and filled the air with a gentle whirring of their wings. An eagle slowly and majestically flew in large circles overhead keeping a sharp eye on the proceedings. In the distance goats with bronze bells around their throats kept up a continuous clanking sound as they deftly searched the rocks for that scarce juicy grass.
Young Diego told me that sometimes people would take extraordinary risks during the war to cross the Pyrenees from occupied France to (theoretically) neutral Spain. Many of them were suffering terribly from injuries sustained, sickness or from frostbite. Local tradition was that anyone who arrived in need of help would be helped as much as possible, with no questions asked. Earlier in summer 2014 a 80+ year old Canadian veteran from World War II – obviously a very fit old man – made the trek over the Pyrenees to Vío and donated a substantial sum of money to the people of the village who had unhesitatingly risked their lives helping him recover from his arduous journey 60 years earlier. Some of this money was going to be spent on renovating the old church and converting it to a community centre.
There is just one shop in Vío. They sell everything you can imagine, and what is not in stock can be ordered. Many tourists use the town as a base for serious walks into the mountains, where the paths are marked with coloured arrows painted on larger rocks.
From time to time someone who is unprepared for the journey heads off into the mountains and gets injured. Everyone setting out is reminded to make sure to notify someone in the town of their planned walk and expected return – there are several signs erected during the summer months in prominent places around Vío. They should carry a fully-charged mobile phone; have a whistle and a waterproof torch. They should be prepared for any kind of horrible weather that can change in a few minutes from bright warm sunshine to sub-zero snow and sleet.
Nevertheless people get stuck on the mountain, usually by hurting themselves on an area of the slippery sharp rocks, by not taking suitable precautions against getting lost, and then a search party must be called out. On average one tourist dies on the mountain each year, often because of inadequate preparation.
The people are so nice to visitors who come and stay at the hostel. Many visitors brave the terrifying road in from Escalona and walk, cycle or even drive down this incredible piece of early 19th century engineering – every rock, every stone from which the road was constructed was moved by human or animal power. Escalona, Buerbe and Vío have fullspeed wifi in the hostels, mobile phones work with full-strength signals, and you can expect all the mod cons such as clean running water, reliable electricity, and a selection of free and pay TV channels.
Many visitors come from outside Spain so locals in the hospitality business have learned bits of English, French, German, Dutch and various Scandinavian languages. For example, Young Diego worked in Florida during the early 1960s and speaks English with a distinct American twang. Young Maria worked in Germany for some years and speaks what she describes as ‘tourist German’. Their eldest son, also Diego, is a civil engineer working in Argentina, but plans to retire to Vío in about 10 years’ time. He bought a field, planted it with hardy grapes, and comes home each year for a month or so to tend to his crop. He hopes to make and sell enough costa, the local rough red wine, to pay for his old age. Tourists are never offered costa as the flavour and strength vary enormously from year to year and even from field to field – it is for local consumption only. Locals fear tourists would be put off by the sight of wine being served from a bucket!
Escalona, Buerbe and Vío are really nice places with really nice people. However, Buerbe and Vío, in particular, are very inaccessible places, and no matter what mode of transport you choose to get there, allow lots of extra time. Locals told me there are 200 hairpin bends on the road, and most of them have nothing to stop you falling off the edge into the abyss.
At each bend in the road be prepared for views that will blow your mind and distract you from your driving. Be prepared to pass el enferno (not of flame or smoke, but of a mountain river blasting through a gap, tossing up spray that soaks everyone who stops to investigate, and making so much noise that you have to scream into the other person’s ear). Look out for eagles with their leisurely effortless flight. Maybe a million butterflies might distract you from your worldly worries!
First published in VISA 118 (December 2014)
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