souvenir T-shirts; the bestseller Tor, tretze cases i tres morts, by Carles Porta, and other books on the Vall Ferrera and the Valls d’Àneu; craft; soaps; infusions… The clever Pili Tomàs has set up a sort of small bazaar in the dining room of her restaurant, Casa Sisqueta. The visitor who arrives attracted by the morbidity of the mediatic crime or by the routes of the smugglers, in addition to tasting the specialties of the cook, will also be able to return home with the souvenir of a town whose vicissitudes have filled many pages. Pili, an indefatigable woman, with character and determined, very determined, proclaims that her home is the one that keeps the fire burning for more months of the year, although none of the 14 registered in Tor reside permanently up here, at almost 1,700 meters.
Tor belongs to the municipality of Alins, but it has always been something like an independent republic that experienced one of its most disturbing moments in the summer of 1995, when the body of Josep Montané, known as Sansa, was found. The victim maintained a fierce enmity with some neighbors over the property of the town’s mountain.
Pili has just picked up the dishes, says that she has little time because she must go up the mountain to take a look at the cows before nightfall. Today, a Monday in mid-July, she has had few diners; this summer is not as good as the previous ones. “I am the last person to be born in Tor, in 1968, I am the youngest of seven siblings. My father died when I was only three days old and my mother was left alone. With seven cows she raised seven children! She also prepared lunches for fishermen, hikers, mushroom pickers… But the best time was the time of the smugglers, until the mid 90’s they stopped here and ate something at home, that helped her a lot. Now people are drowning in a glass of water,” she proclaims.
Pili’s is one of the eight houses in the village that are still standing. “My husband, Lázaro, and I go up from Easter to All Saints, we are the ones who spend the most months in Tor,” he insists. The rest of the year they move to Ainet, another of the centers that make up Alins, in Pallars Sobirà.
His restaurant is only open in July and August, and he regrets that it is becoming increasingly difficult to raise livestock. “The price of a trailer of alfalfa has almost doubled; there is also diesel, Social Security…, everything has gone up. My mother sold a calf for 100,000 pesetas (600 euros) in the 1980s, and now they pay me almost the same, 700 or 800, at best, but the standard of living has multiplied. Even with subsidies, it is very difficult for me to survive ”· It is not easy, but Pili smiles when she talks about her herd, her 80 cows, the Gascon, Limousine and Brown breeds of the Pyrenees, and the three bulls of her. She also looks after four riding horses with her husband, one of Tor’s reference work characters. “What I would like is to be here all year round, this is the life I have always dreamed of, working as a farmer and cook, going up the mountain, I am not afraid of being alone here, I have never been, nor when they killed the two woodcutters. I am so nostalgic for the Tor of my childhood.”
The hatred for the property of the mountain comes from afar; in 1980, they already claimed the lives of two men trusted by Jordi Riba, Palanca, a staunch enemy of the assassinated Sansa.
Pili does not spare caressing her dog, sick with lungs, who painfully goes down the stairs of the house. “Today, after the cows, I will take him to the vet, in Andorra”, he says. The relationship with the neighboring country is constant. Not so long ago tobacco smugglers arrived by roads through the coveted mountain, and after paying a toll. Now it is the 4x4s with tourists eager to follow the itinerary of the tobacco traffickers, and incidentally satisfy their curiosity about the disturbing reputation of Tor, who walk through this enclave. Pili feeds them, serves them trinxat, stuffed lamb, deer stew, grilled meat…, and they return to Andorra happy, with the occasional shot courtesy of the house.
Tor, a town on the border, is accessed from Andorra and from El Pallars. The truth is that driving along the 12-kilometre track that starts in Alins is not a relaxing task in a conventional vehicle, it’s better to ride in an SUV. The first section is overcome without surprises, later on things get a bit complicated and those less skilled behind the wheel have a hard time if they come across someone in the opposite direction. This makes Tor laugh. The narrow road runs parallel to the river, and a few meters from the entrance to the town a sign makes it clear that the stranger is on private land and that “the owners of the mountain are not responsible for the physical and/or material damages that may cause people to circulate” there. It seems like a warning from other times, from the time when it was feared that blood would reach – and did – reach the river through the mountains and the benefits it could give. The author or authors of Sansa’s death have not yet been uncovered. The disputes have been repeated in recent years and now, says Pili, it has been concluded that “the mountain is communal, of the twelve families that have houses, eight standing and four in ruins, and of the Bishopric of La Seu, with the church and rectory.
Casa Sisqueta is next to Casa Palanca. “My brother-in-law, Pablo, who has 200 horses, inherited it; we are the only ones who take the cattle to the mountains and who pay the community of owners for the pastures”. “Now – he insists – the thirteen, the twelve families and the Bishopric, have the same rights”.
Pili is the only one of the seven siblings – one deceased – who has returned to Tor, a very shady town, not very productive and with few permanent neighbors when she was a child. “In my childhood there were only five inhabited houses and we were the only children. I went down to the Alins school, two hours one way and two hours back, up to the third year of primary school. Then I studied BUP in La Pobla de Segur and, at 16 or 17 years old, I went to work in Andorra, in restaurants, hotels… Until I returned in 1998, when my mother was left alone when the last brother left ”, recounts.
In case she were, she didn’t move from here, the reputation of a rough town doesn’t matter to her, but in winter the access track there are days when it becomes impassable. Tor’s reputation, as well as the beauty of the place, is what attracts not a few curious people every summer, potential customers of its kitchen.
