Color therapy Franco-Argentine author Laura Alcoba casts a poetic gaze at the Béarn region and its capital: sensitive, personal impressions of a multicolored expanse from a writer who spans two worlds. Green This was the color of my first encounter with Pau. The green of palm trees—I had never dreamed there would be so many of them prior to actually visiting the city. On the Boulevard des Pyrénées, palm trees stretch for nearly two kilometers along the ravine by the promenade that overlooks the mountains. In places, they loom up from the bottom of the valley. There is also a palm grove at the base of the walls that support the boulevard. When you take in the panoramic view from this famous spot, the green stretches far into the distance. Beyond the palm trees, the intense emerald green of the foothills—their woods and pastures dotted with villages and steeples—shimmers and fades according to the season, time of day and the weather, creating an interplay of alternating shadow and light. Beyond the hills lie the Pyrenees —rocky peaks with scattered patches of snow. The mountains are visible from Pau, stretching from the Basque Country to the far reaches of the Ariège. Signposts along the promenade identify the names of the peaks— the horizon can be read as you go. My favorite is the Pic du Midi d’Ossau, perhaps because of its odd, somewhat hunchbacked form, with two peaks poking out from the top. It looks a bit like a tooth or a gaping mouth trying to drink in the blue sky. In some cities, the landscape provides a kind of framework; in others, it seems to defy the city, like an adversary. In Pau, however, the landscape surrenders freely: the city and landscape are inseparable, intertwined like lovers. And there’s yet more green, with the funicular linking the station with the promenade. Blue In their workshop-boutique, Hervé and Christophe Pando, father and son, make shepherd’s umbrellas the traditional way—with scissors, sewing machine, needle and thread, and of course, the little lighter used for the trim. They are the last in France to use these traditional techniques in making the umbrellas, which look like portable domes. Shepherd’s umbrellas have exactly nine ribs, in rattan, The world of childhood is ubiquitous in Bruno Laxague’s Galerie du Jardin Intérieur, from the paintings in front to the sketches in his studio. and a beechwood handle with an engraved knob. The secret lies in the rattan ribs, which protect from lightning and ensure that the umbrella doesn’t turn inside out, regardless of wind strength. There are umbrellas of multiple hues in Hervé and Christophe’s workshop, and smaller, more manageable models as well, which they call “city umbrellas.” But the one they proffer with a broad smile is a genuine shepherd’s umbrella, huge and midnight blue. Holding it is like having a second sky made of canvas and rattan overhead. Red The Château de Pau faces the Pyrenees, overlooking the city and the mountain stream. It is light in color and surrounded by gardens below, accessed via an arbor and a few steps. The bricks of the Gaston Phoebus Tower, also called “the dungeon,” lend a touch of red that gives a sense of balance to the ensemble. But it is inside the castle that the color red fourishes, on tapestries produced for the most part in the Gobelins Manufactory. The collection is thought to be one of the largest outside Paris. In comparison to the other colors, the blues and reds of these wall hangings have withstood time better than the other colors. I don’t know the reason for this extraordinary phenomenon, but the effect is unsettling. In scenes featuring children, the seasons and feldwork, these two shades are always incredibly intense. They actually seem to pulsate at times, as in the one featuring a child whose hands are plunged into a sack of grain. His coat is red, the burlap bag before him has two blue stripes; above the blue and red, the child cocks his head and smiles. Brown and gold Huge chandeliers hang over the monumental table in the Salle aux Cent Couverts, unequivocally the most beautiful room in the castle. Surrounded by tapestries, the brown and gold table occupies most of the room. It is quite massive, yet extremely simple, nothing but a table top on trestles, in fact. Wood and gold The juxtaposition evokes the slopes of Jurançon—the “happy valley” located near Pau. Soon after leaving town, just before Gan, turn right in the direction of the Rousse Chapel and you will come upon terraced vineyards set against a landscape of forests and pastures dominated by the peaks of the Pyrenees. Jurançon wine has an intense golden color. It is much more than just a regional wine, however, and has played a key role in Béarnais legend: they say that at the Château de Pau, the lips of the future King Henri IV were moistened with the wine right after his birth (after they were rubbed with a clove of garlic). Clear water Once in this hilly landscape, it is diffcult to resist the urge to continue climbing. And the higher you go, the lighter it gets. After a few kilometers, the frst waterfalls appear. Today, three young people are deep in discussion at the foot of one of them in the Aspe Valley. Pau is nearby, yet already feels far away. 143