The giant woman comes into view as we follow the road out of Sort, wending our way alongside the Noguera Pallaresa river. She is not some fabled Catalan ogre, but rather a landmark amid the surrounding Pyrenees, a rock formation that bears a striking resemblance to a sleeping woman in profile. In these parts, it is near impossible to take a road trip with a local without having her pointed out several times.
Despite suffering from what I can only assume is a touch of altitude sickness – not a hangover – I’m looking forward to a morning’s rafting through this immaculate countryside, lush and mountainous, which the river cuts through like a freeway. It reminds me of the best parts of Wales or the Lake District, but with better weather and much less mud.
My unlikely crewmates are a bunch of fifty-something Germans on a motorbike odyssey through Catalonia. Rolf, Jens and Peter are all well-educated, scrupulously polite and able to speak perfect English. But then there’s Klaus – an enormous Bavarian lump of a man – he must be 6’5” and 140kg, all of it straining against his XXL black wetsuit.
From a bank deep in the shade, we push our raft into the rocky shallows, clamber aboard and drift toward the other bank, bathed in sunshine. The undergrowth unfolds upward on either side of the river like a green felt baize tacked across the horizon. Klaus takes the berth on the other side of the raft, directly opposite me. His side groans and sinks noticeably under his massive bulk. The other Germans guffaw uncontrollably. The man runs on heavy fuel.
Before long, we are under way, drifting along peacefully, passing beneath rocky outcrops. Then, round the bend, the first set of rapids yawns up at us. Our guide, Jaime, sitting at the top of the boat, expertly turns us, steering sideways between two sharp rocks and into the swirling waters, where, as we bounce through, a vast spray of foam catches us all flush on our faces. “Buenos dias,” Jaime laughs from his end of the boat. “Good morning.”
Up and under
On another day, away from the jolly Germans and the banks of the Noguera Pallaresa, I find myself following a worn path through the scrub, high into the Pyrenees, where the air is thinnest and the sun brightest. It’s where our canyoning expedition is to begin, led by Marc, a climbing junkie in his mid-twenties. He follows the peak seasons around the world and it’s easy to imagine him scaling anything and everything he happens upon.
Canyoning is a combination of climbing, abseiling and caving – crevices in this part of the Pyrenees are made for it. The hills are full of nooks and crannies, concealed spaces used as hideouts during the Spanish Civil War. We follow the top of the ridge for a short while before arriving at the top of the ravine that zigzags all the way back down to the river below, where we suit up and pull on our waterproof boots.
The descent begins with some basic abseiling, Marc standing at the top of the small cliff, holding the rope fast. We attach our carabiners and one-by-one disappear down the smooth, steep rockface before landing with a splash in the waist-deep water that laps quietly below.
Navigating this snaking waterslide, worn by nature into the rocks, can be tricky. The ground, like wet marble, becomes slippery underfoot and the deeper we go, the more narrow the space overhead. But after jumping off the edge of a small waterfall, we land in a pool, where the ravine intermittently flares out, allowing the sun’s light to flood in. In other parts, the rock has eroded away, leaving tight chutes to slide through. The rope offers support at first, but the running water carries us the rest of the way down.
After a couple of hours of small rises and exhilarating plunges, we come to the highlight. At the end of a craggy precipice, the rocks open up, allowing entry to one of the mountain caves and a lagoon, with water as clear as glass, about 30ft below. Over the edge we go, spidering down the cave walls and into the shadowy depths. It’s a full morning’s work, exploring this maze of sweeping rocks and unspoiled underground springs, before we emerge into the light, arriving once more on the banks of the Noguera Pallaresa.
Foodie finds
Although Sort is the capital of Pallars Sobira, a mountainous comarca – like a county – of Catalonia, it is more like a village, with an official population of just over 2000. It is also home to a curious local legend. In Catalan, Sort literally translates to “luck” and one local shop – La Bruixa d’Or, meaning The Gold Witch – that sells lottery tickets has cultivated a bizarre kind of fame, attracting customers from all over the world by claiming it is disproportionately lucky.
Those who come to the region hoping to buy a winning ticket may leave disappointed, but visitors lured by the promise of delicious food and drink are more likely to be satisfied. Sort’s main street swells with sidewalk tapas bars, their tables overflowing with diners late into the summer nights, while the kitchen at the nearby Hotel Pessets is renowned for its traditional Catalan food – distinct from Spanish food. Just ask the locals.
But it is 10 minutes’ drive outside Sort, past the rolling vineyards of local winemakers Batlliu de Sort, in Surp, a tiny village in the Valley of Assua, where real culinary treasures can be found. It is home to Casa Mateu, one of the region’s famous formaggerie – or dairies – where Dimas toils away, producing some of Catalonia’s renowned artisan cheeses – his soft ewes’ milk cheese has won a stack of global awards.
Buried even deeper in Surp’s tightly spaced streets, overrun by cats and lined with 13th-century Romanesque cottages, their facades still intact, is Lo Paller del Coc, a rural retreat and kitchen where Mariano, a former restaurant chef, now shares his expertise at workshops for food-lovers.
Of course, to describe Mariano merely as a chef sells him short. On one wall of his kitchen, sleekly renovated yet still rustic, warm and welcoming, hangs a sketch of a kitchen in complete disorder, chefs running amok and food flying at all angles. But it’s impossible to believe that any such culinary chaos could ever envelop Mariano – to watch this unnervingly tall, pencil-thin man expertly prepare food with long, spindly fingers is to watch a master alchemist, a food ninja, at work.
An afternoon spent sampling Mariano’s tapas is a guaranteed high point in anyone’s gastronomic life – the portions are rich, yet packed with complex flavours and the kind of freshness delivered only by using local produce. Then, as we enjoy some of Mariano’s homemade blackberry liqueur, he brings out dessert.
“Mejor yogur del mundo,” he says flatly, insouciant. The best yoghurt in the world, that is. And after the first spoonful, it’s clear he’s not kidding.
Rolling on the river
Over lunch, I watch in awed silence as Klaus inhales a dozen sausages and four beers without drawing breath. That morning, within the first hour of rafting, he fell in twice – there would have been a third, but three of his mates managed to haul him back on board.
Returning to the raft for the afternoon session, we again wade in and take up our positions. I slide my right foot into a pocket in the base of the boat and latch my left in behind my leg to hold myself in place.
The water’s ripples catch the mid-afternoon sun, throwing up a soft, hazy light, the way an old camera might capture a lens flare. We pass under rope bridges fitted with containers used to transport cattle from one side of the river to the other, the banks pockmarked by small waterfalls trickling over steep, soaring ledges.
There is little time to take in the scenery, though, as we are soon bracing ourselves for the next series of rapids, all of which, of course, have their own names. There’s the Wall, the Angel Dam, the 800, because it spins the raft two-and-a-half times, and, perhaps most suggestive, the Washing Machine, a brutal, whiplashing whitewater maelstrom.
We speed down-river, bumping over rock-shelves, caught in plumes of water thrown up after each rapid sucks us in and then sends us cartwheeling through. Jaime barks instructions – when to paddle, when to row backwards, which side to stop rowing. At one point, he steers us into a rapid and then jack-knifes us out the side. The raft spins and slams hard into a broad, flat rock. Klaus, unprepared, loses his balance and takes his third dip for the day. One of his countrymen extends his paddle, which Klaus gratefully grabs, and it’s all hands on deck to drag him, dripping and out of breath, back into the raft.
Most of the rapids can be seen in advance, a pit opening up at the base of a wave, allowing us time to brace. The ones that come from nowhere, from the blindside, are the ones that cause problems. On one such rapid, even Jaime comes a cropper, tumbling over the side of the boat before bobbing up, drenched.
Klaus rocks back, his booming laugh echoing out across the Pyrenees, loud enough even to wake the giant woman.
Tom Sturrock travelled through Sort and the Pyrenees with adventure sport operator Paddle In Spain. A range of tours are offered; a day of rafting costs from £70pp, and a week of kayaking costs from £486pp.
More at paddleinspain.com
Gettting there: Return flights from London Southenad to Barcelona start at about £66 with easyJet (easyjet.com). Sort is then a three-hour drive away.
When to go: The Pyrenees are great any time of year, but if you want to get involved in watersports, the summer months are best, with the season running from now until mid-October.
Currency: £1 = €1.22
Accommodation: The Hotel Les Brasas in Sort is a three-star surrounded by the Pyrenees. Great views, clean rooms and an excellent breakfast make it a good choice for the budget traveller. Rooms from £19pn.
pyreneestourism.com.au; catalanculture.com.
See an Insider’s guide on the next page…
The Insider’s guide
Judith Perxes runs Pyrenees-based adventure sport travel operator Paddle in Spain.
Why should people visit Sort and the Pyrenees? This place is gorgeous, with lots of attractions to offer – it’s like a sweet candy waiting to be opened. Most people when they get here, they get impressed by its natural environment, the high mountains, and the Noguera Pallaresa River, which is a mecca for white-water adventure lovers.
What’s Sort like? Sort is the main village of the area located at the base of the Catalan Pyrenees. It’s a great holiday destination in the summer with its big range of outdoor activities, such us white-water rafting, kayaking, and canyoning. The Noguera Pallaresa River Festival takes place in the last week of September, and is a great chance to paddle with people from all over the world. There are kayak clinics and you can enjoy a whole week getting a good taste of the Spanish way of life. And in winter, from December to March, it’s a great destination too – we have trips with snow shoes, sleg dog rides, and snowmobiles. (noguerapallaresariverfestival.com)
What about eating and drinking? There are meals for all budgets, from the classic sandwich with everything and patatas bravas at one of the local bars on the main street of Sort, to some elaborate meals with proper wine tastings from local vineyards. Nights are warm, and there are lots of bars and pubs from which to enjoy the Spanish sunset. In summertime, don’t miss all the different local celebrations in the surrounding small villages.
What’s your favourite thing about the area? You’ll be made to feel welcome in Spain any time, no matter where you are.
The taste of spain: Tapas
You’ll be living off these small tapas portions of Spanish snacks. Here’s a guide to our favourites.
Gambas al ajill: Garlic prawns turn up everywhere from swankier restaurants to beachside shacks. But, be warned, they load up on garlic so people will know what you’ve been eating
a day later. Exquisite with a few glasses of white wine.
Patatas bravas: Basically potato wedges but, in Spanish, bravas means fierce, which gives you an idea of what to expect from the spicy Tabasco sauce. Probably the most common Spanish tapas.
Pulpo gallego: This Gallic-style octopus is served all over Spain these days, most often with a familiar recipe that involves cooking the octopus and serving it up with boiled potatoes, a squirt of olive oil and sweet paprika. Delicious.
Mejillones rellenos: In Spain, stuffed mussels are known as tigres, after they’ve been breaded and fried. They go down a treat with a few cold cervezas.
Tortilla espanola: The humble Spanish omelette is considered the national dish, made with eggs, potatoes and onions.
