For the cost, it was actually cheaper to do a trip like this overseas, than it was to do the same thing in the UK.

Me standing on Pic Maia.

I am obviously in Liverpool, and only need her to speak to confirm it.

Then I realise, that she is wearing an orange uniform, and it come’s back to me, I am on a flight to Barcelona with Easyjet.

I arrive in Barcelona and have several hours to kill. I spot somewhere that looks friendly, but I draw the line when I read its name. I refuse to drink in any pub called ars.

I had a very comfortable room with a bath, just what I wanted.

Unfortunately, there were mechanical diggers outside. Since we were mostly out doing activities it didn’t matter.

One concerning thing, is the weather, which at the time, is appalling. No matter, we are from the UK, and quite used to rain.

The superb thing, is that we are driven to the top by Landrover, and only have to walk down.

One thing I found surprising, was that we didn’t see any other walking parties.

You don’t see signs like this one in the Lake district.

It was flying so high, that I have had to enhance this picture.

Here the excellent Emma (a woman of boundless enthusiasm), acts as barmaid and serves me a pint.

Rushing around in the morning, to get ready, I slip on the bathroom floor, and injure my hand on the cast iron radiator.

This is a picture of me on a skidoo, I didn’t see much point in putting up a picture of a bathroom.

Apparently, up until 5 years ago, smuggling was a perfectly legitimate profession in Andorra.

Unfortunately, because of my injured hand, I was unable to ride a mountain bike at that point. I was pretty disappointed, but the views and the countryside made up for it.

I wander around, and find gun emplacements and dugouts like this one, used during the civil war.

I am saddened, when I realise that someone could have died on this hill, and it doesn’t even have a name.

I found the people there were very friendly.

At one point, we were passed by a police car, that was patrolling the border, looking for smugglers.

Some bikers had checked in and were watching a bike race in the main bar.

I couldn’t see the screen, but I could hear them cheering, and the commentary on Eurosport.

This picture didn’t turn out very well, as I turned of the flash. He was asleep, and I didn’t want to wake him.

For a TV personality, he was very friendly and genuine.

My hand is still causing me enormous pain, so when the group go to do Via Ferrata, I cant join them.

No matter, I didn’t come here to sit on my backside, the hotel owner tells me of an easy walking rout into the village, the Capsa a cale.

Not surprisingly, it is marked throughout with this symbol.

It was supposed to take 1.5 hours, but I enjoyed it, and took 4.

I didn’t see another person, during the whole walk, and only had animals and birds for company.

In this picture, I finally got the timer on my camera to work, and was able to photograph myself.

Although it wasn’t the ski-ing season, and the town was practically shut down, we found this English bar called the pussycat.

It was run by a guy called Robin, who like most of the people in Soldeu, works as a ski-instructor during the ski-ing season, and does another job out of season.

It made me wonder, how the infrastructure of the town, actually works during winter.

Because of my hand, I couldn’t do either, so I decided to walk into the town of Canillo and rest my hand.

On the rout down the road, was this spectacular outdoor climbing wall.

You can see from this construction how its cleverly raised above the water.

On the right, our multi talented barman Pepe. Throughout the week, he couldn’t have been more helpful, and literally nothing was too much trouble for him.

In the center, a charming girl called Laura. She worked at the pharmacy in the village. She was one of the few people I met who wasn’t a ski instructor.

I was so tired, and it was so warm, that I found a really smooth rock, lay down on it, and went to sleep.

In the afternoon, we drove to the top of the El Cortals valley and and peddled down.

I had thought it would be like gorge walking, but actually involved abseiling down waterfalls.

The ridge behind me, is the border between Andorra and Spain.

They were similar to mountain bothy’s in Scotland, but had beds and windows and stuff like that.

There were even tables for cooking and food preparation.

I was really sad to come home, despite my hand, I still had a brilliant time.

I would like to thank the hotel staff, the locals I met like Robin and Laura and the many friends who were other adventure company participants like myself.