From mushroom picking to taking a peek at the snow capped mountains of the Pyrenees, this was an unexpected hike in Aragon.
When heading out for a walk, somehow, we always manage to reach some mountain peak. This woodland walk searching for mushrooms was no different, as we ended up 1,623 metres high and taking in the stunning views of the snow-capped mountains of the Pyrenees.

It was an Autumn visit to Huesca in Spain’s Aragon region. The hot summer had been left behind, winter was yet to come. Outdoor conditions were good, but many tourists had already left the mountains behind.
The village of Nueno is quaint, a restaurant, church and an array of impressive mountain views. Only felines visited our rented apartment.
After a short drive from Nueno with my rucksack full, our late morning walk started at the foot of the hills, looking for mushrooms in the green, damp woodland. They were gone, only the signs of earlier scavengers remained. We continued upwards, along tracks others had made before us. 5km later, the ‘Pico de Aguila’ was to become our final destination.

The tracks were rough and crumbly, the views of every twist and turn took away what little breath I had left. Overlooking reservoirs, villages and valleys, photo stops became my rest points as we set our individual paces.
The only other people were ramblers coming in the opposite direction, they would share a knowing smile of what you were enduring, with the knowledge it was worth every step. Some mountain bikers would occasionally skid by with a greeting before disappearing again.
Two ladies whom I spoke to were full of joy, the exhilaration of the top was still flowing through them and they were in high spirits. Telling me not to worry, I had already walked further than I had left to go, they continued with a chuckle. Just minutes later I smiled at their jest, I stepped from between the pines, I had arrived.

It was stunning, looking far into the distance were the Pyrenees mountains, the snow had already started falling and before long people following the same path would be looking out at mounds of pure white. Within minutes my lungs and legs had forgotten all about working so hard and one by one I was re-joined with my companions.
As we left, thoughts of beer and tapas pushed us onwards and downwards as we headed for the vegetarian restaurant of Nueno.
The next day, we too would be leaving the mountains behind.