Andorra the Explorer
When our van heating system decided to give up the ghost a week into our trip, we foresaw that certain future destinations would provide us with a special challenge in keeping warm – and this was one: Andorra. Sandwiched deep in the Pyrenees mountain range between Spain and France, this oft-overlooked sovereign state affords a smorgasbord of surprises, that we were very much looking forward to sampling. I have always had a fascination with less publicised or advertised micro-states and particularly Andorra, ever since receiving my first alphabetised book on flags as a child and reading about it on page one.
Having painlessly crossed the border late the night before and swiftly sought refuge, we had no idea what our surroundings would look like come dawn. Nestled in a deep gorge next to a frigid river and blanketed with snow, our first daylight view certainly left a lasting impression. As Lowri and I huddled around a single cup of slightly-less-than-boiling tea for warmth, we observed the van-life family parked behind us, parents and three young children, put on their colourful snowsuits and start building a snowman next to Vishnu. This was less than twenty-four hours since getting sunburnt in a Barcelonian beer garden – bizarre. We quickly drank our tepid mug and joined in the festive frolicking.
Andorra may be miniature, but it isn’t so small that one can stroll its length in an hour or two e.g. Vatican City or Monaco. It would probably require at least eight or nine and would take you through numerous proud, distinct towns and villages – each with its own bus stop and welcome sign. Our first, Sant Julià de Lòria, was positively teeming with winter enchantment. Traditional stone chalets, the kind one may find at a Swiss ski resort, with towering, elegantly decorated Douglas firs in the driveways certainly placed us in a merry mood. That was soon disrupted when our internet provider couldn’t decide if we were in the EU or not and decided to cut our connection – not ideal with a full slate of afternoon lessons to deliver. We managed to find a ‘shopping mall’ with WIFI that was just accessible from the car park and hunkered down for the eve.
The capital, Andorra la Vella, was to be our destination the following day and, post morning brew, we caught a dawn bus to its core – ready for intrepid exploration. What yesterday’s town had in alpine charm, today’s city had in duty-free shops, designer brands, and a distinct air of haughtiness. Meritxell Avenue, the central thoroughfare also known as ‘The Shopping Mile’, wasn’t exactly what we had in mind before our arrival, although it made a change from our staple Spanish supermercados. After an hour perusing the poshest of parlours and pretending that we could afford anything more than an ‘I ♡ Andorra’ fridge magnet, we went in search of the country’s most photographed attraction.
While it may not challenge Barcelona or Berlin or even Baghdad in terms of tourist traps, who knew Andorra was home to an original Salvador Dali sculpture. The intriguing ‘Nobility of Time’ monument was gifted by Dali’s agent in 2010 and now stands proudly in the centre of the capital. It also stands in front of Andorra’s most photographed bridge: Pont de Paris – which I risked getting rammed by a raging motorist to get a suitable shot of. We were on a sightseeing roll.
Unfortunately, the slightly noteworthy bridge was as noteworthy as it got. We instead sought stools next to the central Gran Valira river and chugged a few halves which, given our precipitous and snow-capped backdrop, was a far more satisfying experience than any tourist trail. Whilst we were given an interesting introduction to an Andorran existence, it is beyond the boutiques and small bridges that the country comes into its own. For it is its magnificent mountains on which it has built its venturesome reputation, and that’s exactly where we were headed next – into the great frostbit peaks of the Andorran Pyrenees. Maybe just one more beer first, though.
J
