Sun, Snow and Healing Waters High in the Pyrenees at Cauterets

 

Look toward the Light when the shadows of life pull you down.  Offer gratitude for your blessings and the breath of life.  Bathe others in kindness and love and seek joy wherever you may find it.

I am grateful I finally made it to Cauterets, a picturesque jewel of a ski village graced with thermal baths nestled high in the western Pyrenees close to the Spanish border.

Sun, snow, crisp clean mountain air and healing thermal springs, Cauterets is a perfect spot to replenish body and soul.

So it is that thermal baths beckon me each year.  Good for old bones and grieving hearts, each February I make my annual grief trek to bathe in soothing thermal waters.

The derivative of Cauterets comes from the old French of cauterisier.  Cauterization is the searing of a wound’s edges to promote healing. 

Not surprisingly the town’s emblem hosts two hot cauldrons suspended over snow-capped mountains.  Known since Gallo Roman times for its searing hot thermal waters that spurt out of rocks at 60C, the thermal waters of Cauterets are brimming with mineral elements that have long sported healing properties. 

These deep cauldrons of water are especially rich in sulfur, noted to promote relief of stiff muscles and pain in osteoarthritic bones and respiratory ailments.  

I go mainly to help cope with the death anniversaries of my son and mother, both of which fall in February.  As a therapist, I have long advised patients to plan ahead for these painful dates.

Grief is an ongoing process.  I liken it to a gray shadow, especially with the loss of a child, that one has to learn to live with.  We all deal with death anniversaries in different ways. I like to immerse myself in my spirituality and with life-nourishing earth-born waters.

Teetering on my tiptoes, the water jets knocked me off balance, as sometimes life does when you least expect it. Struggling to reach out as far as I could, I finally grabbed onto the wall.  A gush of warm bubbles burst on my face.

I love the intense contrast of feeling the freezing air above me while my body remains submerged in warm womb-like waters.  Vapors swirling around my head create a sheer gauze effect at night, my favorite time to go.  Falling snow and cold rain make it even more special.

Cauterets has two thermal baths, one reserved for the “curists” that attract those who will spend three weeks, following all sorts of medically directed treatments in sulfur-rich waters and mud for rheumatic and respiratory ailments.

Les Bains de Rocher is for mini “cures” and spa seekers, like myself.    The waters are the same for both, gushing out of mother earth after circulating for around 5,000 years!  Besides being sulfur rich, they are full of silica and radon gas, said to reduce musculoskeletal pain and general fatigue.

Cauterets was very sought after by Parisian intelligentsia and the literary society during the 1880’s.  Victor Hugo, Emile Zola, and George Sand were all captured by the thermal cures and wild savage scenery to hike or ski.   Queen Marguerite de Navarre, the grandmother of king Henri IV, wrote about the village in 1549 where she often came for cures.

I find a spiritual aspect to these thermal waters from deep within the earth that are full of the elemental minerals of life to renew, cleanse and purify.   Essential to life, water is a conduit of the Holy Spirit of God, used in Christian baptism, Eucharist and church blessings.

The Jewish purifying bath called mikvah must flow from natural sources, and the festival of Sukkot celebrates not only the earth’s bounty of harvest but the gift of water and rainfall.

I hold a sacred view of mother earth as worthy of the utmost respect and deserving of our stewardship.  The Cherokee name for earth is Elohi.  Surprisingly, in Hebrew, the name of God is Elohim.

Ama is the Cherokee name for water, and ama from Latin:  amatus denotes a beloved one, of a feminine nature. 

My own Catholic faith,  finds comfort that the river Gave surges through rock-strewn streams past  Cauterets, onto Lourdes.  There on the banks of the Gave, which the verb, gaver, means to fill up in French, Bernadette Soubereau had visions of Our Lady Of Lourdes.

On the banks of the Gave, Bernadette dug through muddy rocks as Our Lady directed, where healing spring waters gushed forth that still call millions to this world-famous grotto in hopes of healing.

The French often say they when they travel, especially in nature, they have a need to “resourcer.”  It means to go back to the source to regenerate or be recharged with life-giving properties.

Cauterets  was perfect for the four R’s I was looking for: regeneration, renewal, réconfort (fr)and resourcing.   The mother earth-born waters help cauterize the unhealed edges of my wounds of grief.

On the anniversary of my son’s death, I headed to the local village church for solace and prayer.  There my tears could flow in the privacy of quiet solitude.

In looking at the “creche” made with mountain rocks which remains on display throughout the year, I am reminded of the miracle of Christ’s birth, and the gift of the life and love of my son.

The local gastronomy is built around rich stick to your ribs comfort foods that warm the soul and fill the belly.  Tatiflettes, raclettes, cheese fondues, and garbures.

Tartiflette is a creamy dish of potatoes swimming in onions, smoked lardons or bacon nubs, and Reblochon cheese.     Raclette, which comes from the verb racler,  or to scrape, is melted slabs of mountain cheese that are regularly scraped off to top local sausages, smoked meats, and potatoes.

The first three dishes listed have been adopted from French Alpine cooking, but Garbure is pure Gascon.  Full of various meats, either duck confit, lamb or sausages, this toothsome cabbage soup/stew is perfect for exhausted skiers after a day on the slopes.

Bordering the Basque Country, various Fromages de Brebis, or sheep cheeses, are most popular.  Fresh brebis can be found too, eaten with fruits or perfect spread over bread.

Regional  red wines, such as Madiran, vins de Bearn, and Irrigouly from the Basque country are sturdy and headily perfumed, made from the Tannat grape, and go great with red meats and rich local specialties.

A brioche-like cake filled with wild blueberries, called a Tourte aux mytilles, made for a succulent breakfast each morning, basking on our sun-drenched balcony.

 

Patisserie Chez Gillou is the place to go, making hundreds of them every day to supply those waiting in long lines to carry one home.

Cauterets is also famous for their small hard candies called berlingots in multiple flavours and the batter-dripped spiral cakes cooked on a rotating spit.

In so far as restaurants; Lau Tant’Hic, with its intriguing patois name was my favorite, offering more interesting fare other than the mountain trios of tartiflette, fondues and raclettes.

Since Cauterets is quite hilly, it was real plus for everyday cardio exercise to getting around and up to the airbnb on top of a hill, allowing me to indulge in dishes I would ordinarily avoid.

Télécabines or cable cars from the center of Cauterets carried me up to the Le Cirque de Lys, a lovely ski station easily reached, offering slopes for all levels of skiers and beautiful views for sun-soaking ski bunnies.  Since we don’t ski, we had hauled up a sled, but gave up, as it was impossible to maneuver and didn’t want to crash into someone.

I didn’t make it to Pont d’Espagne, a short bus trip away where there are raquette or snowshoe trails, which I enjoy and a beautiful huge waterfall, mostly frozen this time of year.

Well, it is always good to leave something out, to look forward to seeing the next time.   The best route for me is taking the train to Lourdes, then an hour-plus bus winding up to Cauterets.

Next time, I want to go in either the late spring or autumn for some hiking.  Spring, the mountains flourish with wildflowers and mountain goats and the autumn is ablaze with golden red bronze hues.

Waiting for the train back to Paris, a balmy terrace in Lourdes, overlooking a palm tree beckoned us to soak up more sun sipping an aperitif.

Pulling into Gare Montparnasse,  late at night, the frigid air felt colder than in sunny Cauterets.  Paris with its dazzling lights and bustling, vibrant energy though is always fun to come back to!

As it is my custom when I come back from my travels, I like to recreate some local culinary specialties. I choose the buttery Tourte aux Mrytilles.

Not very humble to say, I know, but I found mine as delicious as the one from Chez Gillou and a lot cheaper!

 

P.S. You have beautiful nature around you regardless of where you live; some right in your backyards.  Spend some time marveling at mother earth’s bounty and be grateful for your blessings, big and small.