It certainly has not the grandeur of Cauterets, the freedom of St. Sauveur, or the expansive loveliness of Luchon. It is hemmed in by the surrounding heights, of which, at the head of the Sourde (or Soude) valley (in which it lies) the magnificent Pic de Ger is most conspicuous, and doubtless this renders it a "warm retreat" in summer; but to see it as we saw it, with the sun shining on the rain-spangled leaves of the trees in the Jardin Darralde, on the lighter green of the beeches above, and glinting through the foam of the "Valentin" cascades; with no invalids, no gallant French horsemen, no gaily-dressed women, but only a few peasants dotted here and there, at work, to give life to the scene—to see it, in short, as it is in spring, can only give rise to pleasant feelings, which would mellow into pleasanter and more appreciative memories!
The amount of rain we had during our stay was only sufficient to cool the heated atmosphere and lay the dust; but Eaux Bonnes has rather a watery reputation, and many are the times that the visitors become victims to a shower, returning from their "constitutional" or their visit to the baths.
When we arrived the hotel had only been open a very short time, as the "season" was far from beginning, and the only other occupants, as visitors, were a rather stout man and a fat, jovial-visaged priest. We discovered them in the billiard-room as the priest was just in the throes of a most simple cannon, and our entrance appeared to damage his play, while his face rather lengthened, as though he felt ashamed at having been surprised at a worldly game. This may have been our fancy, as he was certainly the first R.C. priest we had seen with a cue in his hand; perhaps, however, he will not be the last.
After this we lunched, and after that, left the hotel and walked up the main road towards the Sourde Gorge, passing a choice marble shop, the bathing establishment, the church, and the town-hall. Beyond this last-named building the gorge narrows and extends to the base of the Pic de Ger (8571 ft.). Leaving this on our right, we followed the Promenade de l'Imperatrice, that ascends above the town-hall, till the path leading to the little kiosque—built on the summit of a rocky eminence called the "Butte du Trésor"—branched off to the right.
The view from the little pavilion is indeed a gratifying one, for though not extended, it is so entirely choice and picturesque; while the name of the eminence on which it stands, and from which some of the healing springs are said to rise, is decidedly appropriate, since there can be no doubt that they have proved a "mine of wealth" to several, although, as M. Taine remarks, it is "grotesque that a little hot water should have caused the introduction of civilised cooking in its very cauldrons."
Descending from the kiosque, we continued along the Route de l'Imperatrice, over which the beeches and other trees made a pleasant shade. This is a special walk for invalids, as it is constructed in zigzags of the easiest gradient, and while being both sheltered from west winds and open to the sun, it also commands at various points a good view of the River Valentin, the lower or Discoo Cascade, and the bridge which spans it; as well as the Route Thermale to Argelès, which follows the right bank of the river.
[Illustration: CASCADE DU VALENTIN.]
Most of the numerous cascades in the neighbourhood—thanks to the engineering of the "Empress's Walk" and the road to Argelès—are in easy walking distance for most people, even invalids; those usually visited being the Cascade des Eaux Bonnes, de Discoo, du Gros-Hêtre and du Serpent; the Cascade de Larsessec (33/4 miles) requires some fatigue to reach.
The road leading from the river back to the Hôtel de France passes between two walls of rock against which the houses are built. This passage has been made by blasting the solid rock, and it seemed that the work had been one of no small difficulty.
All great excursions were denied us, as neither the Pic de Ger nor the fatiguing Pic de Gabizos were sufficiently free from snow; while the road to Argelès still remained broken down in three places, and it seemed as though July would disappear ere the terrible gaps made by the avalanches could be built up anew.