Ola amigos y amigas! Mrs Z and I welcome all fellow travelers to the segona parte of our 'Born to Bielsa' Spanish TR. That first part dealt with Barcelona and now this next installment is all about our subsequent two weeks up in Aragon, where Bielsa is the last town before the French border (the third and final part of this TR will cover the French Pyrenees). We deliberately chose a contrasting rural location to follow Barcelona. After Barcelona, we trained NW to Lleida then had the driver take us up to a supermarket in Barbastro. He waited while we two self-caterers shopped there, then finally took us onto our very special rental in the tiny hamlet Usana (aka Banaston-Usana). The majestic mountain parks just north of there could be fairly described as one of Europe's the world's most underrated destinations. We added a few nights up at the Bielsa Parador after our abovementioned Usana rental.
In this chapter we will cover Usana, its larger neighbor town Ainsa, Ibon de Plan lake, Anisclo canyon, Escuain village/gorge, Pineta valley, Ordesa-Perdido Park proper plus both of our above Aragonese lodgings. Being in Aragon reminded us of our stay on Ischia, where our rental had a view of that island's 'Aragonese' castle. First, an overview.
VAMOS!

We used our newly-purchased Barcelona glasses in our historic Usana rental 'Casa Blas.'

First Usana, Ainsa and the Park (read 'mountains') then we'll conclude up in Bielsa before the French Pyrenees.

Hikers and mountain fans will love Aragon.

Reflective image of Escuain, an abandoned former butter-producing village with a spectacular gorge.

Timeless icon of Iberia.

Mountain flora. Also seen were the Edelweiss species 'Leontopodium Alpinum.'

Mrs Z, she of delicate language and sensibilities: "Hurry up and take the fucking foto!"

Lotsa' trees about. A lumber industry was evident, in addition to varied agriculture. Barbastro's 'pink' tomatoes are favored by some over the more-hyped ones from Murcia.

We felt sorry for this Canuck bum traveler and gave him a lift.

Lovely Raquel, the incomparable mountain guide and co-owner of Solomonte Excursiones. She led us on three separate daytrips. Her idea of a fun holiday is to climb cliffs. Very tall and oft-ice-covered cliffs.

Raquel's husband Juancho, co-owner of the outfit and also a highly-qualified mountain expert. Their young son was taking drum lessons, so after each daytrip I prepared a tip sheet for the boy. Those included different songs to practice playing along to and like that.

Jesus was my guide at Ordesa-Perdido Park proper. Mrs Z. passed on that loooong daytrip, preferring to chill back in Usana. I will later describe the unusual set of rules regarding visits to that park (see 'Torla').

Julian Garcia ('Excursiones 4x4') was our guide at Anisclo canyon, the daytrip we completed before meeting Raquel and Juancho. He is also a trained masseur based in Boltana. Julian brought his ESL tutor pal gal (see next) to serve as interpreter.

Friendly Mia, Julian's ESL tutor.

Ainsa town.

This is Isabel, one of the local sheep. She begged us not to tell her parents that she was pregnant. "Oh, no need to worry about that Izzy," we assured her. "We ate them last night."

Did I mention mountains? Ordesa-Perdido park's Circo de Soaso with the famed Cala Caballo (horse's tail). *Next=our wonderful Casa Blas rental house.

Trip Report fag and Spain tag added.

Mod' my friend, I will be suing for defamation. Lookit what you called me above. LOL!
Someone get a screenshot.
Kidding, ce n'est pas un probleme.
I am done. the ?

This is the secluded village of Usana (oo-Sa-nah), nestled 600m up a hilltop in the heart of the Pyrenees. Our rental Casa Blas is located smack dab in the middle where you can see white shutters. The site is directly along the Camino di Santiago Compostela GR19 route. It is one of nine hamlets that compose the Banaston municipality.

Here is a shot from nearby and larger Ainsa (ah-EEN-sah), a proper town with a population of 1,640. Seen in the foreground is the less attractive modern part of Ainsa. It has a much more photogenic heritage section with Spain's largest village square, one which we will show later. Usana can be seen again at top left.

One enters sleepy Usana from this tiny chapel shown on the left. In the distance, we see the tunnel that is the hamlet's key feature. Usana has a pair of historic vaulted tunnels, apparently the longest in Spain. They are authentic and the cobblestone footing is both gnarly and uneven. In other words, the real deal. Casa Blas is found at the very end of the tunnel shown here. On Solstice days, locals gather for a celebration as they watch the sun rise to fill the entire length of that tunnel!

The view from the end of the aforementioned tunnel is wonderful. An effort has been made to decorate both tunnels with some artifacts. Shown here is our rental's quaint garden, with its nocturnal jasmine and more.

Same spot seen from opposite direction. This is Casa Blas. For us it was indeed 'Casa Bliss!' Property manager Jayne Calvert had described this house to us as being cozy and having a prime location. She was right.

The corner of that same garden. Once during our 9-day stay, a hiking teen couple obsessed with the perfect Insta image posed while standing directly atop those beautiful flowers shown to the right!

The rustic door to Casa Blas. Note the symbolic scallop shell, so meaningful to those along the Camino trail.

The knocker on that same door.

Dramatic, heart-stopping views are but one advantage of staying here. The above manager Jayne Calvert lives not far off and will take care of all your concerns.

The second historic tunnel, which was located one lane below us. Usana was a paradise for both shutterbugs and painters.

That second tunnel features a sudden glimpse of history: a press from that fast vanishing yesteryear. Olives? Grapes? Both?

There, one finds the excellent four-bedroom Dos Arcos B&B. Owners Emma and Yiftach had agreed to be available for assistance if we'd needed any upon our arrival. Mrs Z and I appreciated their gesture, even though we eventually found the secret location of our hidden door key aided by the actual owner lady. Yiftach also operates a Bike Workshop with tours. Their impossibly-clever children are trilingual and will be quick to tell you that!!!

Some outdoors decor speaks to the arty steak of Dos Arcos.

More of same.

There was a full-on rural quality to the village. We just loved it.

There were artifacts both outside and...

also inside.

A village of stone and...

...also wood.

Style here and there.

A sunset view from our terrace. Such an endless expanse of sky. Perfect for drinks, be they a sunrise coffee or a sunset Rioja. And a great place to dry wet laundry!

That same wonderful terrace view also included a nearby semi-derelict church in neighbouring Banaston village. It was located across some gnarly bluffs, raw and wild (see below).

That same southerly view shows the sheep farm in the foreground and the Embalse de Mediano dammed lake in the distance.

The latter flowed into a stretch of quasi-submerged trees lining its banks.

Ethereal sunrises never ceased...

...to enthrall us.

Mrs Z likes to paint.

Bucolic landscape was never far away.

Such moody clouds.

Some of our grocery purchases shown inside Casa Blas. Olive oil plus pimenton. We'd actually bought the latter in Barcelona at Casa Gispert.

An antique coffee grinder.

Usana pomegranates.

Usana beans.

Usana eggplant.

Our landlady Pepita was incredibly spry for someone her age, let alone while recovering after recent surgery to mend a broken leg! That hospital stay had been near her son's home up in St. Lary just across the French Pyrenees border. She was a citizen of both countries. Mrs. Z is totally bilingual and carried the conversation during our visit to her home next door to Casa Blas. She grasped some of my clumsy Spanish and French. I think.

This painting is of her husband. Pepita owns other rental properties within the tunnel. We met one of her other vacation renters, a couple from the States now living in Panama.

Local laundry.

In flowered fields...

...the mind delights.

In addition to old rakes, ropes and tools, these dried flowers decorated the tunnel. One day there in the tunnel, I learned that I'd been calling Pepita's dog by the wrong name. Whereas I'd called him 'Charcoal' in fact he was actually named 'Choco(late)' for his brown fur.

Spanish wine has a looooong history, just like Usana.

We found more than one variety of grapes on the outskirts of the village.

It was the very end of the viniculture season here.

Next: our first daytrip with Raquel (Solomonte): the Ibon de Plan lake.

Wonderful photos of a beautiful area of Spain. Those "dried flowers" full of thorns were traditionally used to clean the wool of the sheep, still seen in many households, now as a decoration.

You made my day! Starting your TR with these sumptuous photos.
I know you don’t drive, so please include all your logistics and other options you found for getting around this area.
More please …

Hey Ade and Hey Mikelg! Muchos Gracias.
Mikelg, thank you for your clarification about those thorns. Who knew about that fact? They remain a pyrennial fave of my wife wherever we go. Seriously. We would be grateful if you were to continue with such clarifications plus any other input whatsoever that you may have for this region.

Hmm, so driving logistics. I'll start by clarifying that the 'driver' abovementioned was a taxi that we caught outside the Lleida (aka Lerida) train station. We'd taken that train from Barcelona's busy Sant station. The train itself was fine but the leadup was nearly a shit show, all the more ironic coz we'd just raced through heavy rain to finally catch a cab to Sants (taxis had refused to enter our Gracia area citing some possibly-bogus excuses). Sant Station authorities then kept the crowd of us waiting to board in a tightly-packed corner for over an hour. Couples with young children and elders were kept standing throughout as there were only so many seats. One could sense the mounting frustration. I remarked then to Mrs. Z how unnecessary that corralling of riders had been: there was plenty of room in the original waiting area. When the stationmaster finally announced boarding, a mad rush ensued. We were supposed to followed a staffer towards an elevator down the far hall, but I thought 'screw that' and just hefted both of our heavy suitcases (see 'misguided machismo') and lurched through the throng straight down the nearest stairs onto our reserved train car. Maybe not so good an idea for a 67 year old. Huff huff...

Some looooong-distance car transfers were necessary for this itinerary to continue to unwind. I will def address those further down the road. As for mountain daytrips, both Solomonte and also Julian above were willing to fetch us for a fee. The aforementioned property manager Jayne Calvert also once kindly drove us into close-by Ainsa so that we could see the historic town and shop for groceries. Traditional taxis did not seem to exist throughout that part of Aragon, and there were precious few buses - we knew all that ahead of time. One daytrip that we'd love to have done, if only there's been sufficient buses, was the medieval town of Alquezar.

OK, now time for Ibon de Plan.

*Ibon de Plan is a pristine lake with an entry hike. Raquel picked us up. Juancho had earlier been busy transferring some cyclists to a mountaintop for sunrise. Those riders had been part of a major international cycle fest centered up at Bielsa. Raquel brought the Solomonte jeep, not the van. Note that she and Juancho speak good English. In addition, they guide various adventure water sports popular in the area e.g. canyoning. *image above shows elsewhere SOLOMONTE phone +34 617 99 5434

We headed north past Solomonte's Escalona HQ up the vale di Christau. The lovely aquamarine Cinca river was right beside. We passed the now-blocked shortcut to the lake, a route ruined by recent flooding. Then we went through the ex-hydro town Lafortunada and the Desfiladero des Devotas. A waterfall streamed atop us in the tunnel there. A historic pilgrim woman came from afar to worship there, hence the name. On the way up to Ibon de Plan we went to the village of Saravillo (seen above).

There on the outskirts, we shopped at Queso del Artesano de Saravillo. If I caught their family name correct, these folks were Andres Miro and wife (shown here). They make their own varieties of goat cheese, plus 'arandanos' or Pineta blueberry jam, honey, yogurt and eggs. We bought a wide variety. It was amusing to hear their unseen goats bleating in their nearby pen.

Spectacular is the only word to describe the Freda Mirador. It was worth the by-now bumpier ride on dirt trails. What far-reaching views! We were most of the way up to the lake by this point and the fresh smell of pine was wonderful. Base-jumpers sometimes utilize the area.

There were two pine species, black plus orange or Scot. Each preferred its own altitude. During our brief stop at this mirador, we asked Raquel to clarify various Spanish accents. She explained that Andalucians drop the final letter; Northeners (inc. Toledo) are proper and pronounce all letters; Zaragosans 'sing' sentences while the Euskadi do a hard 'K' as their language is not a Latin-based one. Her explanation was fun!

Below one saw the curiously-named village of Sin. Its neighbor there in this Feixon Ziego area was Gistain. Clearly audible far below was the Paso Inclusa d'Escun man-made hydro embalse/dam.

Above, a die-hard American mountain-biking couple and their local guide navigating through the immediate Ibon de Plan periphery. Upon our earlier arrival at the parking lot terminus, we had just seen the 'Comlet' megalithic stone circle. That'd been unexpected. So had been the filthy condition of the attached Refuge Labasar. Trash had been left uncollected. This neglect had embarrassed Raquel. She was rightly disgusted. We carried on past the massive scree of avalanche-prone Mt. Punta es Litas (2623m). the nearby pasture had a rainbow pole that indicated winter snow heights here.

After the rocky entry hike and its tiny brook, we finally made it to the lake: Ibon de Plan. Only a handful of other folks were there on this weekday, whereas weekends can be much more crowded. Mrs Z and I saw clear evidence of this being a glacial valley. Mother Nature and her moraine had gouged and carved the terrain of Cotiella Mountain (2912 m) into artistic stony striations. The legend: a Moorish princess from long ago will dance above the water at sunrise for any good-hearted folks who sleep shoreside there in the Basa (basin) de la Mora.

The sun kept making the mountain brighter.

Cotiella's Clump Massif had a neighbor, the 2427m high Penu del Mediodia. The latter had intriguing patches of gold-coloured scree high above.

This was a particularly floral area, with substantial pasture. Shown here is violet saffron crocus, but there was also 'oreja de osos' (bear ears') a primrose that survived the tropical prehistory and grows near karst cracks and fractures. Also seen: gentian, saxifrage, lilies, houseleek, cinquefoil, alpenrose, rododendrum, silverbirch and a notorious fake cannabis that is toxic. Here, beech is called 'fresno.'

These hikers were excited to have just seen a nearby ostrich fossil on one particular rockface. They may have been German. Raquel and Juancho's clients tend to be French, Belgian, Dutch and Spanish. *next: Julian and Mia's tour of the wild Anisclo canyon.

Thanks again for your beautiful pics and report. A side note: in Spanish, an "Ibón" (with an accent on the "o") is how we specifically call the small lakes on the Pyrenees (and funnily enough, nowhere else!). It´s also a popular male name in the Basque Country (one of my best friends is called Ibon, but there are no accents in Basque).

Fun Fact: Monte Perdido /Mont Perdu (both the French and Spanish sides) is one of only three UNESCO world heritage sites listed for both natural AND cultural wonders.

the other two are in Poughkeepsie, NY

sorry if I missed this, but when did this part of your trip take place? Hard to figure out from the photos. If it’s winter, I am surprised how green it looks.

super exciting trip!

Glorious photos and fascinating commentary!!! I love this!!

Shlemm: Are you kidding? Poughkeepsie?

Very interesting, completely unfamiliar part of Spain for me.

Well, I suppose it could possibly be true, but I do know that one of the three is the Falaise de Bandiagara in Mali. I don't remember what the third one is, so who knows? Two is certainly an exaggeration.....

Welcome aboard Shelemm, Eks and ANUJ! Time for a musical interlude. Raquel and Juancho are big fans of the German soundtrack composer superstar Hans Zimmer. Perhaps the funniest morning moment of our trip (Shelemm, it was this past fall) occurred when Juancho fetched us with the big Solomonte van blaring Zimmer's brilliant Dune soundtrack! We loved it. Outstanding.
Raquel and Juancho were excited about Zimmer's upcoming Pamplona concert - they had tickets.

And also this longer, more relaxing piece from same.

thx for posting beautiful and interesting photos of rural Spain.
A dedicated urbanite like me will probably never visit those parts of the country.

The following were selected due to the various intros: roosters, cowbells, church bells.... So very apropos for a village like Usana. Let's call this section ORCHESTRA ARAGON.

Stunning landscape.

OK so now Anisclo Canyon. Aragon has but 3% of Spain's national population and oye, was that ever evident in this wild and remote area. Julian drove us up through tiny Puertolas village and tinier Santa Maria hamlet. We passed only two or three vehicles. "Mushroom pickers," explained Mia from the back seat. She'd lived in London plus Toledo. Soon, she was off to a tutoring job in the Canaries. A coincidence: she knew our landlady Pepita's adult son Lorenzo!

Anisclo Canyon (alt. 1740m) receives fewer tourists than more high-profile parts of Ordesa-Perdido park. The drive there is interesting too. One farm on its outskirts featured a collection of multiple different scarecrows. Were they for sale? As mentioned above, our guide Julian had brought his ESL tutor pal Mia as translator. Btw, another sign here said NO DRONES.

On the long, rocky entry trail, we drove past waterfalls with rainbows and also some landslide damage. The latter was the result of recent rainfall. It was a comfy 12 degrees in the sun, paired with exhilarating fresh air. One can see the route in this photo, as it appears horizontally three-quarters of the way down.

The signature berries of the Pyrenees are the 'pataculo' or damask rose. Despite being high in vitamin C, it can cause constipation (see 'culo'). Julian handed us some dried ones, already turning a yellow-orange tinge. Elsewhere: a kind of vine growing out of rockfaces used for both animal plus human abortion. We were also shown the large, light-green bush known as 'the difficult mother-in-law'! A hard, inflexible bush mind you.

While viewing this holm oak, we were approached by duck hunters. "Seen anything so far?" they asked. "Naw, just some marmots n' chamois tracks," came the reply. The rock bastion Castillo Major (2014m) was in front of us. Beside it were the highly-visible trio of snowcapped peaks known as 'The 3 Marias.' Using Julian's binoculars, we saw cliff faces stained from the white shit of 'bearded' nesting Egyptian/African vultures. Birds of prey were ever-present high in the skies throughout this trip.

Anisclo. The sole sounds in the otherwise silent valley, were the whinnying of a few ponies plus the discordant tinkling of cowbells. Mia informed us that locals will say, "LETS GO FOR SOME SAKSIA THERAPY!" Saksia refers to the meditative quality created by that symphony of cowbells so identified with remote mountain hiking here.

Julian with his telescope. He also showed us all a cool app on his phone that labelled the names of the mountains and other features as they appeared right in front of us.

Intriguing geology was never far off. The huge green hills just across were streaked by strange irrigation streams, looooong ones made by Mother Nature. A major fossil field also lies close by.

Anisclo's signature attraction (that word) was an immense, deep gorge gouged out millions of years ago. Eons of sculpted erosion. The gurgling Bellos trout river was just below. Unfortunately, its other key attraction seems nearly-extinct, the rare 'sarria' or 'chamois' goat-antelope, also known as 'capra pierneca.'

Anisclo's smooth pastures were filled with cattle. Cow patties were mixed with the mud everywhere. The black companion to this pair of cows was unexpectedly startled by my presence and began a panicked charge in our direction. I'd merely been walking by it with my Nikon inside my Domke bag. That sudden cow run was FELT as well as seen: the big beast's weight made the ground shudder. It soon backed off. Lucky that it wasn't a bull!

A corral was nearby. Cowboys have ranching rights throughout certain park domains, and this has led to some controversy.

These teen punks were into Drake and Lady Gaga.

We four had our bocadillo picnic lunch at the remote and empty Refugio 'Plana Canal'. Julian had supplied the meal. Birds of prey dive-bombed the area from the clouds for their own lunch as they hunted something nearby. Rabbits? Marmots?

The steep and deep ravine is popular with hardy hikers. We only lasted part way. *A coincidence. We actually saw the above-pictured guide Raquel leading a troupe of 20 senior hikers there, not realizing whom she was! We'd not yet met her and did not know what she looked like. We finally met her for the first time a couple of days later, along with her husband Juancho.

There were no washrooms so...

Afterwards we stopped in little Bestue, a sleepy Pyrenees village with outstanding views and much humanized landscape. I mean that it is known for its extensive farm terraces. This charming Bestue corner revealed a traditional bit of local architecture: the truncated stone chimney known as a witch's hat seen above. Those were once created by superstitious Pyrenees builders to ward off the approach of evil witches. The village vista's 'table' was actually a wide chunk of ancient sea fossil!

A golden Bestue wall. The hamlet had a lot of traditional uneven slate work roofing. After leaving the hamlet, we later passed through a centuries-old stone enclosure wall in the wild. It'd once been used to store cereals to feed livestock. Once back home at our rental, Mrs Z created an ingenious remedy to our pesky 'Spanish fly' problem: a makeshift plastic bag trap that did the trick. No more annoying flies. I married a genius.
Next: more music.

Welcome and gracias Danon! We are aware of your extensive urban adventures.