The church bells have just finished, and the Plaza Mayor is quiet in a way it hasn't been all week. Sunday in Aínsa. The tail end of August, the air still warm but with a hint of that September edge. The arcades are in shadow, and a few locals are out, but it feels like the town is holding its breath before the fair arrives.
I got the day right. After two days of drizzle, the sun is finally winning. I checked the forecast this morning: high of 33 degrees, one millimetre of rain over four hours, but it's already burning off. The light is that golden, late-summer kind that makes the stone walls of the Casco Antiguo glow. I came here five days ago, and this is the first morning that feels completely mine.
I grabbed a coffee at La KoffeeCleta, a tiny speciality place in the new town below the hill. I think it was about €2.50, maybe €3 for a decent flat white. The owner was setting up his cycling tours for the day, a couple of ebikes leaning against the wall. I'm not much of a cyclist, but I'm told the trails around here are something else. Not today though. Today is for walking slow.
Today is also for doing some admin. I'm still waiting on my NIE, the foreigner's identification number that unlocks everything here: bank accounts, contracts, the lot. I submitted the application a while back, and I'm told the next step is the physical TIE card, the biometric residence card. You can't do it online easily; you need a cita previa, an appointment, at the Oficina de Extranjería in Huesca. The town hall here in Aínsa handled my empadronamiento, which is the padrón registration, the proof of address you need for almost everything else. It's all a bit of a paper chase, but it's progressing. Coffee first, though.
I wandered back up to the old town through the Green Corridor, the riverside walk along the Ara. There were a few families out, kids throwing stones into the river, someone with binoculars looking at the birds on the gravel banks. It's a beautiful, flat walk, easy and green. I noticed a few apiaries along the path, and the smell of wild mint crushed underfoot. Muy tranquilo.
Back in the Plaza Mayor, I sat on a bench under the arcades and watched the town do its Sunday thing. The old men gather at the bar for a vermouth, the smell of roasting peppers drifts from a balcony. It's the kind of quiet that makes you want to stay. I pulled out my notebook and finally firmed up the plan for Ordesa. The weather window looks clear for midweek, so I've decided on a two-day hike into the national park. I'll drive to Torla in the morning and take the shuttle from there, because the valley road is closed to private cars in summer. Worth checking the times at the tourist office, but it's the only way in.
On the subject of money, I've been mulling over the cost of this slower pace. My apartment in the new town is costing me about €45 a night for myself, which feels fair for a base in the Pyrenees. The fancier hotels, like Hotel Sánchez right under the arcades, are more like €75 to €100 a night for a double in this high season. And if you're on a real budget, a hostal bed is around €42 to €60. It's not a cheap place to live, but you get a lot of nature for the price. The park itself is free to enter, and the best trailheads are free too, once you've paid the shuttle.
I ducked into the Museo de Oficios y Artes Tradicionales for an hour, because I hadn't yet. It's a small museum, set in a restored house in the old town, and it's all about the working life of the Pyrenees. Wooden tools, a forge, looms, the whole kit of a pre-industrial mountain economy. It's a good reminder that this town wasn't always a tourist draw. It was a working place, with a huge livestock trade. They say the town was abandoned in the 19th and 20th centuries, the whole old town left to crumble while people moved down to the river. If the economy hadn't turned around, the Plaza Mayor might just be a ruin.
And that brings me to the fair. The Expoferia, Sobrarbe's big livestock fair, is just around the corner in early September. I've been hearing about it from everyone. The town is going to fill with farmers bringing their sheep and cattle, there's going to be machinery displays, local food producers, and the whole square will turn into this buzzing market. I've also read that the September patronal fiestas follow right after, around the 14th. So I'm arriving just before the storm, which is perfect. I can see the place in its quiet, working character, and then see it explode into celebration.
There's a legend attached to the square, the one I mentioned a few days ago, about the Spoon Race. The story goes that during the Christian reconquest, the townspeople were losing a battle against the Moors. The patron saint appeared, and a celestial spoon appeared in the sky, and the tide turned. Or something like that. The more mundane version is that they hold a race carrying eggs in spoons. I like the mundane version. It feels more like the people here.
For lunch, I went to Casa Alfonso, a place I spotted earlier in the week with a solid, busy terrace. I had a salad and a plate of cured local ham, probably set me back about €15 to €18. Simple, fresh, honest food. I had a caña with it, a small beer, and watched the families around me. It's a different kind of tourism here. It's mostly Spanish, people from Zaragoza or Barcelona escaping the heat. Not many foreigners, which makes it feel less touristy and more real.
After lunch, I did the one thing I've been putting off. I walked to the Ecomuseo, the wildlife museum, and I have to say, it got me. I was never a big birdwatcher, but watching quebrantahuesos, the bearded vultures, on the screen flying over their cliff nests was something else. They were nearly extinct in these mountains, poisoned and hunted out. Now, thanks to a local conservation programme, they're being reintroduced successfully. The museum is in the old town, and it's a small, thoughtful place. It makes you feel hopeful about nature, but also realistic about the work it takes. The work is ongoing, and it's mostly local.
I walked back down to the river to sit on a bench and just read for an hour. The light had that late afternoon quality, the mountains across the valley turning a warm pink. A heron fished in the shallows of the Cinca. I thought about this area's other title, the Sobrarbe Geopark, a UNESCO thing that recognises the area's geology. I'm no geologist, but I can see the story in the rock walls around here, the way the Pyrenees were pushed up. It's a landscape that makes you think about deep time.
For a change, I didn't plan a big splurge dinner. I went back to the new town and found a spot with a terrace facing the crossroads. I think it was Ordesa 88, or maybe Dos Rios, I can't remember, but I had a plate of grilled veg and some local cheese. It cost about €20 with a glass of Somontano wine, a nice ripe red from the foothills. It was good, but honestly, the best part was just sitting there in the open air, watching the light fade on the mountains and the locals taking their evening paseo.
I strolled back up to the Plaza Mayor one last time. The night was warm, the sky full of stars, and the town was perfectly still. A few lights were on in the windows of the old stone houses. The fair will be here in a couple of weeks, and this square will be jammed with people and machinery and music. But tonight, I've got it to myself. It's hard to describe, but I feel more settled here than I have anywhere on this trip. It's the feeling of being in a place that has a rhythm, a working, breathing life. And I get to be part of it, if only for a while.
I'm heading into Ordesa tomorrow morning, so this is an early night. I'll have coffee at the bakery in the morning and grab the shuttle from Torla. I can already feel the pull of those high valleys, the cool air, the sight of the Monte Perdido massif. Today was a calm, deep breath before that. The kind of day that reminds you why you came. Slow days are the best days, especially in a place like this. Hasta mañana, Aínsa.
That's all for today. If you're planning your own quiet days in the Pyrenees, or you're thinking about catching the Expoferia, wherever you book your shuttle or your room or your dinner, it's going to be in the episode notes. Buenas noches.