Transhumance

Each hung bell's bow swung
finds tongue to fling out broad its name
I am me - for that I came -- Hopkins

Bells are all around the Valle d'Ossau - it is the time of the Transhumance and bells are ringing all across the lush pastures of the Plateau du Benou as the stock gather there in preparation for the the summer migration. As the movement begins bells are ringing all along the roads and echoing along the narrow streets of the villages - sheep bells, cow bells and horse bells - a multitude of sizes, sounds and tones. Walking along with the troupou I have sheep bells ringing with a rapid beat of sheep's feet in front of me, the slower tones of the languid cows behind and echoes bouncing off the rock walls of the cuttings, the steep sides of mountains and the stone walls of houses in the villages - stars above me and the company of centuries of shepherds walking along with me - What a night !!!!

Ashur and I started on the Plateau with a shepherd and her sheep and cattle and a tribe of helpers. We walked under clear blue skies with the mountains in the distance through the early evening. People lined the streets of the little villages - old shepherds with their berets on, women hanging out of windows, children in doorways - all offering encouragenment anmd adding to the feeling of celebration and anticipation as the stock and their shepherds set off on a 14 hour, 35 klm journey to the summer pastures in the mountains. After a rapid downhill walk of about three and a half hours to Laruns we spotted Sue's smiling face in the crowd, Sue joined the troupou for a while as we changed gear and then she and Ash stopped for the night - Ash would have liked to keep going but Anna the shepherd said it is a bit tricky in the night, not to mention a long way, so I went on into the night.

After Laruns it is all uphill - we followed a little track out of the vilage - up a steep hill and through a narrow rocky cutting - a dark night with the stars above, sheep bells in front of me, cow bells behind, rock on either side, striding along with a stick in my hand keeping the stragglers going - I could have been at any moment in time over the last 500 years.

After a few hours I was invited to hop on one of the horses and spent most of the rest of the night on a huge, wide French horse. It was a long night, constantly moving at a pace directed by the stock. a few short rests during which other troupous would move past and then off again passing mobs of cows standing quietly resting in the night. We went through a village around 3-00 am and there were people standing outside the restaurant waving and cheering - they should be in bed I thought !!!

We stopped for breakfast of Garbure, a traditional Bearnease soup at around 5-00 am, a little rest and on the move again as the sun came up on a very cold morning. Another couple of hours and we were at the hut at the base of the Pic de Midi. A small stone hut at the opening to a valley with a clear stream running past it. We left the sheep to their own devices and everyone busied themselves preparing the hut for occupation, building a sheep yard, a pergola materialised, four pigs appeared from somewhere and the sheep took themselves around behind the hut and to a ewe fell on the grass and slept. Anna and her husband Joseph will be here for the next three months, milking the sheep twice a day, making cheese and I suspect enjoying the absolutely magnificent mountains and countryside- no wonder the cheese is so good !!!

I stayed to help for a while and then walked down the valley to meet with Sue and Ash - what a wonderful night - to be a part of a such a powerful tradition - part of the essential rythm of life in the mountains - a little weary but buoyed by the experience, the bells still ringing in my ears.