🇫🇷 🇪🇸 700 km  from Biarritz to Perpignan across the Pyrénées Mountains

Eight days. Twenty mountain passes. Over 700 kilometers.
From the Atlantic surf of Biarritz to the sun-drenched streets of Perpignan, this trip through the Pyrenees wasn’t just a cycling challenge — it was a journey through shifting landscapes, cultures, and emotions.

This is what stayed with me.

🌧 Day 1–3: In the Basque Mist

The ride began in Biarritz, a place where ocean breeze and pintxos hang in the air. Within hours, I entered the green folds of the Basque foothills — quiet, steep, and soaked in mist.

Then came the Col de Marie-Blanque.
Short. Steep. Relentless.
Despite its modest altitude, it turned out to be the most brutal climb of the entire trip — especially under pouring rain. The road kicked up to over 12% in places, with slick surfaces and thick fog masking the summit.

But between the clouds, the Basque region offered warmth:

• Creamy ossau-iraty cheese
• Rustic farmhouses
• Hot showers in gîtes where locals offered unsolicited kindness

That evening, while drying gear and warming up with soup, I quietly marked the day by adding a small regional patch to my panniers — a simple reminder of where I’d been.

🏔️ Day 4–6: The High Passes

This was the heart of the Pyrenees.
A chapter of mountain giants and mountain silence:

• Col d’Aubisque
• Col du Tourmalet
• Col d’Aspin
• Col de Peyresourde

Climbing the Tourmalet, fog pressed in from all sides, and the only sound was the crunch of gravel under tires and the distant clang of cowbells. No cars. No people. Just altitude and breath.

These days were tough, but also rich:
🫕 Garbure soup in the evenings
🧀 Melting wedges of Tomme des Pyrénées
🌿 Wildflower honey from roadside stands
💬 A few words exchanged in Occitan with café owners in tiny villages

Each region felt distinct, not just in food or dialect, but in the way the land curved. With each descent, the landscape changed — sharper ridgelines gave way to softer valleys.

Another patch joined the bag — a subtle tribute to the territory passed through, like adding a sentence to a travel journal.

🌞 Day 7–8: Into Catalonia

As I approached the eastern side of the range, the light changed. The terrain opened. The air grew dry and pine-scented. Welcome to French Catalonia.

Here, the final test: the Col de Jau — long, winding, and blessedly gentle compared to what had come before.
The descent brought heat and golden light. Stone houses with Catalan flags. Palm trees in the valleys. Plates of boles de picolat, local olives, and sips of rancio sec wine.

When I finally reached Perpignan, it was with salt on my skin and sunlight in my bones.
And one last patch — quietly affixed to a corner of my pannier.
A small, private way to say “I was here.”

🧳 What I Carried Back

Crossing the Pyrenees by bike isn’t about conquering anything. It’s about learning how to move through difficulty, culture, weather, and awe.

Not everyone rides with them. But for me, they’re a way of remembering without needing words.
A visual map of the soul of a journey.

🔖 Planning a Similar Ride?

If you’re thinking of taking on the Pyrenees, here’s what I learned:

✅ Don’t underestimate “smaller” climbs like Marie-Blanque — they bite hard.
✅ Prepare for rain and storms. The weather turns fast in the high passes.
✅ Eat local. The fuel and the culture are found at the same table.
✅ Don’t chase speed. Chase connection — with land, people, and yourself.
✅ Mark the road however you like — whether it’s a journal, a photo, or something stitched.

🗺 Where Have You Been?

Do you keep mementos from your tours? A patch, a sticker, a pressed flower?

Let me know what you carry home from your rides — I’m always curious how others remember the road.

Written by a rider who believes that the best souvenirs don’t live on shelves — they live on bikes.