Their green and pleasant land

Selva de Irati, Pyrenees, Spain

PEER among the massive beech trees and the silver firs that make up the Selva de Irati and you might catch a glimpse of movement among the leaves. A deer, perhaps. Or Basajaun, Lord of the Woods, a giant, shaggy creature, as fast as a deer, but as strong as a boar. Despite its rather frightful appearance, the Basque answer to the Yeti is a gentle soul that watches over sheep and alerts shepherds to approaching danger, all for a slice of bread that he collects when people are asleep.

Better meet him than the ghost of Jeanne d’Albret, the last Queen of Navarre, who, rumour has it, was poisoned in 1572 with a pair of scented gloves by France’s Catherine de’Medici. Now, Jeanne roams the dense Irati woods on windy nights, her spectral skeleton bearing a gilded crown.

With its maze of leaves and moss-carpeted branches—peaceful in spring, eerie in winter and always so intricate that it can almost feel impenetrable—this is a land that nurtures legends, as much as it does wild boar, deer and golden eagles. ‘We walked on the road between the thick trunks of the old beeches and the sunlight came through the leaves in light patches on the grass,’ wrote Hemingway in . He seemed more intent on fishing and picnicking by the Irati river than chasing after mythical creatures, but, who knows, perhaps he