Decision time! having got past the high glacier section of the trek, we now felt more confident to commit ourselves to a meeting place with Karen's parents. Logistics returned us to the same place again and again; just the other side of Port de l'Artigue, we would be ready for a good rest and could re-supply at Auzat or Vicdessos. Karen called out from the refuge telephone and confirmed this arrangement. That then was the place and occasion to aim for, but it was impossible to predict how events might conspire to interfere.

  GR11 balisage led us through mixed woodland, rich with birds and flowers, to mount steeply in a wide open bowl topped with crags. The height enabled good views back to the steep valley used in descent on the previous stage; Tuc Mollieres was just visible with Aneto peaking over the valley rim. To the south, the angular peak of Tuc de la Tallada (2970m) stood boldly, while the ground at our feet was littered with the ubiquitous colchiques. Voici! Using binoculars we spied on the demanding descent and the abri which eluded us; being bright orange it was quite conspicuous from here, but was set away from the route, hidden by a ridge. Resuming course, our slanting switchbacks led upward and to the col Port de Rius (2330m) where we stopped to snack on fruit saved from the refuge supper. Karen wanted a full breakfast right away, (eggs, beans, hash browns, tomatoes and fried mushrooms on toast would have been ideal!) but I wasn't ready as usual and gratification was deferred.

  While pausing, we puzzled over the altitude here and that at the lake; the generally accurate guide placed the col lower. 'Impossible', I said; 'the lake would then flow out this way, and neither could we truly be at the col'; reason gives a harder wrestle when something is presented in writ. It would have been clearer if the lake had been in view, but we only saw and confirmed the truth after resuming course.

  Circumnavigation by the north shore of Lac de Rius led us on the soaring flank of Tuc de Sarrahera (2645m) which was yet lower than our col of yesterday. At the far end of the lake we stepped across to a bouldery island and settled to eat our breakfast proper, with water all around. Then, satisfied by our muesli pots and warmed by the sun, we both lapsed into a mellow nodding reverie, a state of consciousness which was neither awake nor asleep but meandered idly in the grey space between, rich with mental interchange. A cool breeze cleared this daze and I rallied Karen; 'Enough! the day may be short but best to enjoy repose at completion'. We even scorned the interesting deviation proposed by Véron; this would have extended the stage with another couple of lakes, but it seemed a bit artificial. Besides which, we were off the map now and travelling directly we needed only to follow balisage.

  The descent lead us into scattered trees, pines and birch which called me to a halt. There was an ambience here which no film could capture, it invited me to be here now and perchance I did accept that stillness for some moments. Then I knew I must continue, and felt compelled to salvage what I could, a poor result which could feed but one of the senses. Voici! Down to the northeast the deep Val d'Arties cut into the mountains, complete with service roads for forestry and dam maintenance; these could bring hikers into the refuge, which would not by then be much further distant. Karen_comments I hurried after Karen but she was not in sight until final approach to the refuge; she had been busy discovering available comforts inside which included blankets, electric lighting and even space heating. At this hour, it looked as though we had it all to ourselves! We spread ourselves generously, and then sat out on the dam to catch the last of the day's sun.

  Ref Restanca stands on the fringes of the Parc National Aiguestortes which preserves an area comprising nearly 400 lakes of varying size, but most of them humble lacquets. It is an area almost reminiscent of the English Lake District; just think in metres rather than feet, exchange buzzards for eagles, and expect to meet 95% fewer folk, and you have the picture! I was reminded of the park name in regarding water which gushed into the reservoir from an outlet, as it means 'twisted waters'; perhaps the flow was conducted from the Lac de Rius intake where we had seen the stream dissappear into a concrete catchment structure. The area offers protection to flora and fauna excepting water dwelling creatures. Many of these are subject to the vagaries of urban power demand, which may drain a lake or empty a stream unpredictably. The system relies on just a few dams linked to more than 200 intakes using several hundred kilometres of gallery network.

  Clouds boiled up and a cold wind hurried us in to shelter and prepare food. Our concern of the next few days was whether we could get to Isil on present rations, but on discovering a large can of beans amongst the free food, I declared 'This will see us through!' Karen_comments We made a hearty pan of tasty stew (though someone added too much salt!) and settled to discuss the exciting new passage from Port de Bonaigua which we hoped to undertake in two days time. For this we would depend upon the guidebook, but a refuge wall chart allowed us to copy valuable supplementary information. That done, we signed in the visitors book and slept.