Bouchons

Small roads through the mountains have long held a fascination for us; the idea that somewhere not far is a retreat, an old church, or a farm selling chevre.

Passing under the motorway on just such a tiny road, we were soon away from the roar of the traffic and deep into the Pyrenees, where we found ourselves in a hobbit land of cork trees, the recent rains making it far more verdant than usual. Some of the trees here are are still being harvested for what must be a relic of a once thriving industry that provided the cork for the now deserted bouchon factory in Le Bolou at the foothills.