At the foot of the Pyrenees, a route follows the footsteps of the legendary Cathars. Our reporter heard so many great stories along the way that hiking almost became a minor matter.
Things don’t start well. As soon as you got off the train, hailstones the size of pebbles fell from the sky, which had just been blue, and a wall of rain pushed itself in front of the entrance to the station hall. There are no taxis and only a few people. With a determined expression, the last of them soon trudges out into the wet gray. Take this, you tourists! seems to be the message from heaven. There is still a copy of the local newspaper on the ground; we learn that 74 brown bears currently populate the region. In the distance, the Pyrenees shimmer, covered in snow. Hello, Foix.