Ascent / descent: 1053m (53803m) / 1164m (53587m).
Altitude (start / end / highest): 661m / 550m / 1450m.
Weather: Sunny and clouds, overcast after a while.
A sign that I've walked far and probably is a little bit tired is the tendency of me using a lot longer time in the mornings now. In itself not so bad, I'm not in a rush anyway. I slept well alone in the small dormitory and eat a good breakfast at the place after which I use a long time before I continue further on the trail. There is a clear sky at departure, but the sun hasn't reached down into the valley I'm walking in yet.
Montalba d'Amelie.
I have the feeling of being in a quiet and isolated place almost during the whole of todays walk. After a calm walk I come to the tiny hamlet of Montalba d'Amelie (543m), a collection of house situated on a small shelf on a hill. A dog is guarding a dilapidated and deserted house. As every place with respect for itself this place also has its own chapel, which should cover the needs for the few inhabitants in the valleys around, there are supposedly also a gîte d'etape here. It's just as quiet here when I leave as when I came.
The ruins of the old mill of Molli Serrador.
The trail is continuing through the forest and after a small ascent I arrive next to a house where the vegetation is in the process of overtaking what mankind has made, though it's only remains of a house. Inside behind thorns and scrubs is the ruins of that was once an old mill, Molli Serrador (833m). I have to go through a lot of thicket to get closer to the building. On a sign it says 'Risque d'eboulement', so I have to be careful so I don't get an old mill on my head. You can't help but think of how remote this mill is located.
Roc St-Saveur.
At Coll Cerda (1058m) my curiosity strikes again, it gets too tempting, even though I have to defy my feelings of being a little bit too tired to do my usual excursions off the route. Beyond the pass is Roc St-Saveur (1235m) rising up towards the sky, from here the climb looks manageable. But after having put away my backpack and climbed that was supposed to be a marked trail to the summit, I find myself on the other side of the summit instead.
Even so, it's a nice view from here; Canigou is now even further back in the horizon. But I'm unsure if the continuing path, which now goes further downwards instead of upwards, will take me to the summit. So I turn and climb back down again. I make a direct attempt at the summit from the pass instead, but there my attempt stops dead next a too steep wall after a while. I'm going higher up anyway, though darker clouds await me there.
View from Roc St-Saveur in the direction of Col de Paracolls.
Before I come to the French rock, I sit down on the border to Spain, lighting up my gas stove and eat lunch. The clouds have retaken the throne in the sky now, but below the clouds there is a nice view out over Spain and towards the ocean. Even though they for a short time descend down over the mountain and hide the landscape in a chill mist. I climb up to the Roc de France (1450m); Canigou is now cloaked by the clouds.
View from Roc de France.
Down at Col du Puits de la Neige (1240m) I shortly crosses into Spain where the GR11 (the Spanish variant of the GR10) is making a guest performance. From here and down the walk is less exciting. The weather seems to have got caught in a routine; nice weather in the mornings, for then to become grey and dull. Coll dels Cirères (1015m) is lying well hidden inside the woods, but a quiet place for a cup of hot tea. I get concrete under my feet after La Selve (612m); the trail is here following the road all the way down to Las Illas (550moh).
The Mediteranean in the horizon.
From the style of the buildings here it's obvious that I'm getting closer to the Mediteranean. There is no one in the gîte, and the persons running the gîte isn't at home either. I install myself in the gîte anyway. It's a quiet day here, the season is coming to an end, and I eat almost alone in the restaurant at the Hostal des Trabucayres. The food is excellent. Cured meat, trout, lamb and cake, all served with wine. On the way back to the gîte in the evening there is light at home of the persons running the gîte so I get to pay for the stay. Still there is no one else at the gîte. I didn't see Claire again after I talked to here in the morning at Moulin de la Palette.
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