GR10: The green gateway to the Pyrenees

Editorial: From Travesía Pirenaica, we are excited to share this adventure signed by Geert van Nispen, one of the European references in self-sufficiency and long distance in the mountains. His challenge: to join GR10, GR11 and HRP in a single trip. Here is his account, in first person.

This article is an authorised translation of the original published by Geert van Nispen on his website: GR10 route: The green gateway to the Pyrenees

Three routes. One mountain range. One shared story.

The Pyrenean Triple Crown AdventurePyrenean Triple Crown), for which I am now resting, will train again and towards which I am directing my steps, has been postponed. Sometimes, an adventure does not ask for acceleration, but precisely for patience. That is why I am returning to the three legendary routes that together form the backbone of this mountain range: the GR10, the GR11, and the Haute Route Pyrénéenne. To two of them, I return through memory; to the third, mainly, through longing. I have known the GR10 and the GR11 in their entirety; the high route, the HRP, I have only walked in fragments, though enough to know that it never fully reveals itself. This is the story of the first route. The GR10, the green gateway to the Pyrenees.

📋 The "Pyrenean Triple Crown is a concept inspired by the renowned "Triple Crown"The Triple Crown is a challenge to complete three of the most iconic long-distance treks in the United States. The American Triple Crown is a challenge that involves completing three of the country's most iconic long-distance routes: the Pacific Crest Trail (PCT), the Appalachian Trail (TA) and the Continental Divide Trail (CDT). These trails total more than 12,000 kilometres through some of the most breathtaking scenery in North America. HERE ALL THE INFORMATION ABOUT THE ROUTE.

A path without beginning

The first steps on the GR10 never feel like a beginning. On the contrary, it's as if you're picking up a conversation that was interrupted a long time ago. As if the Pyrenees recognise you and allow you to return without asking questions. No grand welcomes or ceremonies. Just a narrow path winding through the green, damp with dew and bordered by ferns and beech trees.

I don't have to prove anything here. I just have to walk.

The GR10 does not impose itself. Instead, it whispers. It demands attention, but not haste. The trail winds through forests where light filters in soft green hues. Water is everywhere: streams crossing the path, rivers shaping the valleys, and springs bubbling unexpectedly from the hillsides. My feet find their rhythm on earth that yields and breathes. This is how movement feels in its most natural form.

I'm not walking the heights yet. The mountains hold themselves back. First, they let me land.

Villages like breaths

Along the way, villages appear and disappear again. A few houses, a church, a fountain. Sometimes, a shaded bench. Here, people live with the mountains, not against them. The GR10 route links these places like beads on a necklace, threading together landscapes and lives.

I come across people who have their own pace, their own routine. First a greeting, then a nod. Sometimes a brief conversation arises that doesn't need to go anywhere. Then the silence returns.

Meanwhile, the days follow a rhythm distinctly separate from the outside world. I wake with the light, walk until my legs say enough is enough, eat simply, and sleep soundly. Time stretches out and distances lose their meaning. In the end, only the next bend in the path or the next clearing in the woods where the landscape decides to reveal itself for a moment truly matters.

The gentleness of perseverance

Although the landscape may appear gentle, this route is far from comfortable. It tests you not with extremes, but precisely with subtlety. The long days through undulating terrain prove deceptive. The climbs and descents are rarely dramatic, but they are ever-present. Consequently, the challenge lies in the repetition, in continuing to push forward without adrenaline sustaining you.

Little by little, the GR10 trail is teaching me to listen to my body. To pay attention to the small signals. Here, overload doesn't come from heroic ascents, but from underestimation. This is a path that rewards patience and honestly corrects a lack of attention.

What always impresses me again is how alive this side of the Pyrenees is. The French slope is green, lush, and almost overflowing. Flowers by the path. Cows in the alpine pastures. Forests that swallow me up and only let me out again when they want. Even when the weather changes, the landscape retains its gentleness. The rain intensifies everything: the smell of wet leaves, the sound of running water, and the deep colours of moss and stone.

The mountains do not close. On the contrary, they open up.

Learn to look

As the days pass, I realise I walk differently. More attentively. The GR10 doesn't force you to concentrate because of danger or altitude, but because of beauty. And beauty demands presence. That's why I can't move forward distracted here. Every moment invites contemplation.

In the evenings, when I finish my day surrounded by nature, sometimes in a gîte or on a simple campsite, I feel a deep sense of calm. Not the euphoria of a great achievement, but the satisfaction of a day that fits together perfectly. My body is tired in a good way, and my mind is clear. This trail does something within me without needing to raise its voice. And yet, beneath that calm, something else beats. It's not dissatisfaction, but curiosity. A gentle push forward.

The mountains hold something.

Sometimes the landscape opens up, revealing wilder terrain ahead. Rockier. Higher. Less forgiving. Although the GR10 route remains clear and the markings reliable, the environment changes character. It becomes more open and windy. The mountains slowly show their teeth. Not to bite, but to remind you they are there.

Little by little I'm beginning to understand why the GR10 route holds such a special place in the hearts of so many hikers. It's accessible without being superficial. Friendly without losing its character. Precisely for this reason, this route invites you to look beyond and to keep growing. Not by becoming harder, but by delving deeper.

Sometimes I walk for hours without seeing anyone. Other times I share the path with other hikers, each with their own story and their own reason for being here. The GR10 connects not only places, but also intentions. Everyone comes here looking for something, even if they call it by a different name.

Fundamentals

It has taught me that adventure doesn't always lie in height or in solitude, but often in perseverance. In carrying on, day after day, without adrenaline taking control. Here I move light. With what I need and nothing more. Sometimes running, sometimes walking. Trail running and hiking merge into one, depending on the terrain, the weather, and my feelings. In self-sufficiency, at a pace that leaves room for adaptation. This way of being on the trail fits this path. Without forcing, without clinging, but flowing with what the mountains allow. As I continue to move forward, the feeling grows that this path is preparing me. Not only physically, but also mentally. The calm. The rhythm. The confidence that is born simply from continuing to move. They are the foundations. For something bigger. Perhaps wilder. Something less forgiving.