Andorra: don't walk on by

View from hotel window at the top of Arinsal, the northern most point of Andorra and Europe.

“It’s ever so ‘portant how you walk’.”    – A.A. Milne (Winnie-the-Pooh) 

Standing on the highest mountain in Andorra[1] (and, some would claim, in all of Europe), my legs began to quiver in protest. My rigorous regime of squats, lunges, stair climbs, yoga, and runs proved laughably inadequate for the reality of steep ascents, stream-leaping, and tiptoeing over treacherously loose rocks during several hours in Comapedrosa National Park, ambitiously aiming for the Pic de Comapedrosa. I had already passed the Camp de Refuge, a hut with facilities that is a respectable hike in itself. Up to that point, the trail had been considered “moderate”; the final 862 metres, however, are classed as “difficult,” a fact firmly reiterated by the hotel staff, who warned me there might still be snow preventing me from reaching the summit. I visited in early June, before the official hiking season begins in late June, and sure enough, the snow patches grew ever larger until I found myself standing before a vast slab of snow beneath which a waterfall thundered unseen.

Snow and a waterfall blocking the path to the Pica de Comapredrosa.

During the hike I had been overtaken by a group of four people, probably in their twenties, and I could just make them out far ahead, moving more cautiously now as they negotiated the steep incline. Their footprints trailed across the snow towards the brightly painted markers on the rocks. Knowing I still had at least an hour to go and that I would need to make the descent alone, I made the reluctant but sensible decision not to continue further.

On my way down, past the refuge, I encountered a cheerful group of teenagers accompanied by their leader, a few teachers, and a devoted dog. The students were struggling noisily but enthusiastically up the slope near the hut, calling out a chorus of “hola” and “buenos días” (though it was very much the afternoon). One young man even greeted me in careful English, declaring, “Madam, what a lovely day it is.”

Later, I met the group leader again with the dog still loyally by his side, on his way back to town. He told me the students would be spending the night at the refuge, which was fully equipped with dormitories, a kitchen and bathrooms, and that they had no intention of attempting the main mountain. I felt an unmistakable sense of smug satisfaction that, on that day at least, I had managed to climb farther than the teenagers, though I wisely kept that small triumph to myself.

Hikers just past the Comapredosa Refuge.

Comapedrosa is the highest mountain in the principality of Andorra and part of the township of Arinsal. It was no coincidence that I chose to stay in Arinsal, and that the bus stop adjacent to my hotel was the second last stop at the end of the line. To reach the micro country of Andorra, one usually travels via Spain or France as it is sandwiched between the two. I used its location as an excuse to return to Barcelona (but does anyone need an excuse?) and spent five days there prior to taking a bus directly from the Barcelona Airport to Arinsal. Despite my tendency to overplan, somehow I missed the first bus I booked (blame the taxi drive that dropped me in the wrong spot and two bus drivers that gave me incorrect information as to the location of the bus pick up spot) and was forced to book another one online using my phone. This is how I became aware of the farmer’s strikes that were happening in Spain and that this event may cause a delay. Once I had booked the bus, I received notification from the bus company that this was the last bus of the day and that all other ones were cancelled. Relieved when I finally took my seat on the bus, I breathed in the majestic views of the Montserrat Mountain range on my right side and the charming Pyrenees towns with narrow roads that we passed through. Soon, from my google maps location I guessed that we had just entered Andorra but not the border, however, the bus pulled into a bus location and the drive spoke to us, first in Catalonian and then in simplified English. The Asian passengers to my left, looking confused, asked if we were in Andorra yet? ‘Change bus’ I explained, to which they acknowledged that they understood and we hastily grabbed our belongings and found ourselves split between two smaller buses. Although there was no explanation given, the reason became apparent as we drove to the next stop and were again asked to take all our luggage and start walking. The striking farmers had completely blocked off a major intersection and were all sitting at picnic tables eating, drinking and socialising whilst we passed by them with our luggage. After walking perhaps a kilometre, we were ushered onto yet two more buses and headed towards the border. I had read conflicting advice about whether we would need to do any border procedures but understood when we were told to again get off the bus. The other tourists again looked confused, so I told them “Passports” and we all headed to the border, walking from window to window with no one to tell us where to go. Eventually a window opened, our passports were hastily grabbed, and then handed back. One of the border guards said something in Catalan, pointing to the sky; she was warning us of an impending storm. Protecting our passports, we rushed back to the buses and proceeded towards Andorra just as the heavens opened. At La Vella (the main city) everyone disembarked except me as I was heading to Arinsal, which was the highest point and at the end of the bus route. Many tourists only visit Andorra as a day trip from Barcelona and mainly explore the city, perhaps for the tax-free shopping, I was about to spend one week in Arinsal, end of the line but perhaps the most renowned location for hiking and trekking in Summer (and skiing in Winter).

Looking down, almost from the top of the Comapedrosa.

Many rivers (or streams) to cross when hiking in Andorra. to add text.

Pathway with trail markings.

The Comapedrosa tunnel all must walk through before beginning the trek.

Andorra was to be the half-time break of my five-month travels in 2024, and I had decided to indulge myself with a week of spectacular mountain views from a hotel balcony. I reasoned that even if it rained every day, I would still have that view and a comfortable apartment all to myself. It did indeed rain, but only on my arrival and departure days, leaving me with perfect weather for hiking in between.

I also spent a day in Andorra la Vella, the capital city. I had booked a free walking tour, only to discover on arrival that it had been cancelled. Fortunately, there was more than enough to keep me entertained and well-fed without it, so all was not lost. My first stop was the famous Salvador Dalí sculpture La Noblesse du Temps (The Nobility of Time), which stands proudly in Plaça de la Rotonda. In typical Dalí fashion, the sculpture features a melting clock. The clock, immortalised in his painting The Persistence of Memory, represents the passage of time. Its pliable form supposedly symbolises how human perception can distort our sense of time, although there are, of course, a few Freudian undertones to this rather flaccid motif. The dark storm clouds that loomed overhead during my visit seemed perfectly suited to Dalí’s dramatic flair.

Beyond the melting clock, the sculpture includes several other figures. The clock rests upon a great tree whose roots pierce through a brick platform, embodying Dalí’s recurring theme of decay and renewal. An angel sits on one side, seemingly lost in thought or perhaps in mourning, while on the other, a woman rises from a bath, gazing optimistically towards a new day. With characteristic Surrealist tension, the piece balances uncertainty with courage. Standing five metres tall, the sculpture was gifted to the government of Andorra by Enric Sabater, Dalí’s agent between 1968 and 1982, and today it remains one of Andorra la Vella’s most recognisable landmarks. The subject of the melting watch is, unsurprisingly, quintessentially Dalí, a whimsical reminder that even halfway through my own travels, time, like his clocks, was bending and slipping away far too quickly.

La Noblesse du Temps (The Nobility of Time) by Salvador Dali in the centre of Andorra La Vella.

Obligatory Selfie in front of the Andorra La Vella sign, Andora La Vella, of course.

Street decorations in the shopping district of Andorra La Vella.

Misty view from my Aparthotel.

Andorra is a popular tourist destination with around 5,000,000 tourists annually which is more than five times its population. Andorra is undoubtedly synonymous with nature with more than 90% of the country being made up of mountains, forests, rivers, lakes and meadows, all of which I experienced in my week in the micro-country.  

Just another misty view from my hotel balcony.