The morning began cool at 58F. The skies were clear as dawn arrived with a lonely contrail. Time to get moving. Breakfast at 7:30; I had to meet by taxi at 8.

My driver was Bridget (yesterday’s was Aimée). She whisked me back to Ducazeville’s main church as my starting point for the day — 8:30.

Leaving Ducazeville, a former coal mining and steelmaking city, I was climbing past a large mural celebrating the Chemin de St Jacques. Behind me was my starting point. Nick and Jeff had spent the night there. A really sad story of an industrial city declining after their industries died. Very few options for dinner were available. They went to a Carrefour supermarket for chips (crisps) and wine. I really lucked out going back to Conques. The invisible hand of the Chemin.

I crossed the River Lot at Livinhac-le-Lot. The reflection on the river gave me pause for a minute or two. I walked the rest of the stage until Figeac on dusty trails and small windy roads. I still had 16 miles in front of me. The temperature was rising; it reached 87F by the time I reached Figeac. I was guided by my Buen Camino app and some ingenious signs along the way. Even with these aides, I made a few wrong turns here and there.

Given the weather predictions, I carried nearly 3 liters of water. I also stopped at Le Bourdon, a one woman shop (Cécile) at about the 12th mile near St Felix. I ordered a Coke (the first of the trip) and a ham sandwich. That stop saved me. I was running out of gas and the Coke helped stretch my water supply. By Figeac, I had no water left.

I also included a photo of the toilet — my first experience with one that you shovel in what appeared to pine wood shavings after you are done. Some of you may be familiar with this method from camping, I am guessing. I am certainly not.

I finally made Figeac at 5:50. I was on the road for eight and a half hours, 19 miles, 2617 feet of elevation gain.

I opened Google Maps to locate my hotel. Bad news. No internet connections. Hum. Hotel Le Mont. Where would it be likely located? I made my way to centre ville by the main bridge. There it was.

At the check-in desk, the clerk told me that she could not find my reservation. Oh no, I thought. Yes, oh no — no other words hit my mind even the very obvious ones. I was tired.

Alors, they had reversed my names in the reservation system. Voilà, your key.

Nick and Jeff had made a dinner reservation for 7:30. The terrace outside the hotel-restaurant was superb. Here are two images as sundown progressed.

Canard was the star of the dinner. If you look back to the Le Pont image, you will see a sandbar. On it, were ducks quacking. I won’t write what I thought when we were served with the chorus quacking. Omnivores that the three of us are, we thoroughly enjoyed the duck salad and the duck main course. The soufflé like dessert was excellent — fluffy with a light vanilla sauce on the side.

We said our goodnights and good-byes. Nick and Jeff will be staying tomorrow in Figeac. We are no longer in synch. I’ll miss seeing them.

I was asleep within minutes.

The morning wake-up started later than usual. You know why. The weather was cool and the fog softly blanketed the valley in the early morning.

I walked with Monique to the bus stop just outside the pedestrian only zone. Who knew our chance meeting in Japan would lead to three more walks. Who knows whether another walk will happen in the future. But we enjoyed this one that reinforced the principle of living in the present. Thank you again Monique for helping edit the blog, giving French and history lessons, and your humor throughout these days. Always a teacher.

On the way back to the hotel, I met up with our Canadien friends who always seemed to be ready to go before 8 PM. Our French friends — Vincent and Patrick — told us that the Canadiens said they could never be Americans. I asked them if the statement was true. Of course! If you don’t know the words to the Canadien national anthem, look them up. I don’t think a 51st state in the future.

I will miss seeing them. Although they will go to St Jean PP and over the Pyrenees, they will be taking a few days to visit Rocamadour, a walled city similar to Carcasonne. Our walks won’t be in synch.

The way out of town was down the hill, across a bridge, and then up a very steep slope that thankfully had a small flat area a quarter way where the Chapelle Saint-Foy was located. Lots of people were huffing and puffing by the side of the chapel. A few went into the chapel to say a prayer or perhaps to catch their breaths. By the time we peaked, the upward ascent was over 900 feet.

Just outside of the village of Noailhac, another uphill went by an outside version of the stations of the cross. I have walked others such as one in Baiona with Laird on the Portuguese coastal Camino. Another that comes to mind is in Wurzburg, Germany. These stations are probably recent because I don’t think that the metal Camino insignia would be allowed to be attached to really old monuments.

Where was Decazeville? I had to be there by 3:30 to meet my taxi. I had to return to Conques because the accommodations in Decazeville were sold out. Nick and Jeff were staying there. Did I make it? You will find out. It was nearing noon and I had some distance to go. I could not tarry long anywhere.

Why the rush? You just don’t know what is ahead on the road. In this 12 mile trek, the ascent was over 2100 feet. Eventually, I would have to descend without knowing the trail conditions.

All turned out well. I was at the Decazeville main church by 2:15. I searched for a bar and as luck would have it, there was Nick and Jeff sitting at an outside table with beers in hand. The way of the Chemin.

The taxi back to Conques took 30 minutes. Time for a quick rest and writing yesterday’s blog with time to spare for dinner. Steak tartare #2. Unlike the potatoes Aligot, steak tartare will always be my go to dish in France. This version included olives — Med style.

The cathedral was a short hop from the restaurant. Every evening at 9:30 during the summer, a concert is performed. This one started in front of the sanctuary with singers and a string quartet and then moved around the cathedral to the north transept, apse, and finally the south transept — a first for me. The melodious early church music had a haunting quality to it as the sounds echoed through the cathedral. The night lighting added to the solemn mood that the music created.

Before the end of the concert, I stepped out the main doors to see the light show of the tympanum. Imagine what those old monochrome brown stones looked like when the cathedral was first built? It was breathtaking to behold the colors. Too bad that we can’t see them in the daylight as well.

Enough excitement for one day. I have to be ready to go tomorrow for my taxi ride back to Decazeville and onto Figeac.

I was gifted with one of those mornings that compels one to be an environmentalist. The sky was clear and what I saw were compositions and the dazzling colors that the images below didn’t capture in their fullest. No pollution to spoil the scene.

Imagine eating breakfast with this canvas before your eyes. We feasted on the best baguette yet; the same could be said of the chocolate croissant. The sunrise enhanced the moment.

As we walked through the village of Golinhac, another representation of a pilgrim was in the town square. I am sure that these pilgrims saw many beautiful skies throughout their journeys.

We crossed a foot bridge and felt that we were in a primeval forest. What a contrast to the Aubrac plateau from days before.

Our first break was in Espeyrac. As we ordered our drinks, a ceramic statue of a French Bulldog sitting on the counter caught my eye. Moments later a real one peered at us from behind the front door while we sat a table outside. We had a good laugh about his expression. I could not coax him to come to us.

When one walks these multi-day hikes, you come to recognize people who are in the same stage as you are. We saw Vincent, 64, and Patrick, 62 (French, not Irish) who have showed up everyday since Le Puy. They called out to me from their resting spot today on day 10. They will be finishing up in Figeac in two days.

The descent into Conques was steep and rocky. Regular sneakers would not have provided the ankle support to prevent twists or more serious injuries. Even in the village, we were careful because of the steep inclines and cobblestone streets.

The center of it all is the magnificent Romanesque cathedral which was built between 1045-1120. Its tympanum of the Last Judgment is one of most treasured art works from the period. I liked the devilish characters on the right — try out Hieronymus Bosch from late 15th-16th century for more ghoulish representations of the dark side.

Also striking is the interior height of the cathedral without the use of the flying buttresses of the Gothic churches. The stone masons of the times were probably the most revered craftsmen because they produced the major structures of the times especially the religious ones.

To end the day and what caused the delay in publishing this day’s blog was our dinner at the one-star Michelin restaurant, Émilie & Thomas. Our dinner started at 7:30 with our amuse-bouche served on the patio along with our pre-dinner drinks. I tried a Negroni Verde – with no Campari but with Chartreuse. I have to find the recipe for that drink. Magnifique! Our dinner ended at 11. I provided images below of the dishes. We shared a white and red wine from Aveyron, the wine region the includes Conques.

It was Monique’s last day on the road. We made several toasts to her during dinner. Her fluent French helped us along the Chemin.

Inside, we were treated to dishes that were refined and whose flavors burst out. The three types of bread (not pictured) were some the most tasty that I have ever had with a crunchy crust and medium to firm inside. I tried all three! I did not include an image of the cheeses — only three modest portions — nor the petit fours at the very end. Had to condense somewhere,

We walked home in the dark with help from Jeff’s iPhone flashlight. The walk included going up the steep streets of Conques in complete darkness. We were as quiet as we could be. At the main street where our hotel was located, we were rewarded with the Conques Csthedral bathe in lights.

Morning Fog. Bracing. No rain forecasted – high of 73F. All accurate for the entire day.

We picked up the Chemin route two blocks away at the new Espalion bridge spanning the River Lot. Facing south, the original bridge was open but no vehicular traffic. The towns along this route have retained many of their old structures. These towns were honored with World Heritage designation.

The path out of town was well tended. A pheasant led us for about 400 meters and then flew on its merry way. A first for everything.

We were soon in farmland. I took a photo of French field corn. Notice the gaps between the stalks. In Iowa fields, you would encounter a phalanx of stalks with no daylight between the stalks. You probably could walk through the French field — not in Iowa.

We shortly started our climb up the mountain. The path very steep and slippery. We both were thankful that this climb was at the start of day. Tired legs would have made this climb more challenging. We couldn’t even think about what it would have been like in rain or coming downhill.

Halfway up, I took this photo of fog enveloping the trees and field.

A paved road appeared when we reached high ground. We walked along the ridge. At a sculpture honoring the settlers of this region, a beautiful panorama presented itself. Look closely for the small tip behind the first mountain on the right. The castle above Espalion sits on top of the tip. That castle overlooks our start point for today. Note the hovering fog over the valley in the far distance.

Moving briskly, we came upon the hamlet of Verrièrs. Every building seemed built for a movie set. I entered the chapel on the right side of the image. You can tell that the chapel had settled over the centuries. The hamlet and towns are clearly part of the World Heritage.

Our next stop was Estaing, the ancestral home of Valéry Giscard d’Estaing, once President of France. Quite a castle in the middle of the village.

We stopped for lunch at a restaurant at the far end of the bridge. Monique had French toast (yes, that’s what it is called) and a double espresso for the road ahead. I really liked the St Thomas Abbey beer on tap and the rare burger. We had miles to go and I only had a modest breakfast. Those calories burn quickly on long and steep climbs.

After a lovely stroll along the Lot, the trail becomes serious with long and sometimes steep climbs. After an hour and a half, we were in need of a WC. Voilà, one just 500 meters said the sign. As we approached what clearly looked like the WC, a sheep dog was laying flat out on the ground next to the WC. We thought that the dog belonged to someone using the WC. We knocked on the slightly ajar door. No one inside. Not waiting, I went first.

A sign on the WC had a photo of the dog named Garou. He had completed his work as a herder and was retired. The sign stated that passersby should not be afraid of Garou. He comes to this spot on his own to give comfort and receive pets. At the end of the day, he walks home alone.

Well……I could not resist. Garou and I had a love fest. He didn’t move but readily accepted the pets and tickles to his nose and chin. I took a selfie with him. (My friends know that I never take a selfie but an exception can be made.) What a soulful dog.

Refreshed, we pushed on. At the split in the road leading to the village of Fonteilles and the Chemin path, was a memorial to Pépé Catusse who sat on the spot greeting and talking with pilgrims as they walked by. He passed in 2008.

I had seen wrapped bales of hay before but not so many that were not stacked. While touring in Norway in 2000, Sharon and I had once came upon bales wrapped in white plastic with a red “X” marked on the top. I named those — hot crossed buns. These looked like checker pieces.

Towards the end, we walked through a grove of very tall pines. These were really tall and straight. They reminded me of the British Royal Navy using North American pine trees for their masts. I wondered whether the Admiralty ever asked the French about pine trees like these especially during the 17th – 19th centuries.

We pressed on in the final miles to reach Golinhac, Camp Bellevue. When I first received the itinerary from Camino Ways that we were staying at a “camp,” my head moved right to left and I mouthed — No Way. Ron never camps. But in Golinhac, the alternative is the dormitory Gites — REALLY NO WAY!

Also of note, read the entire screen below. Donkeys allowed. Before modern transport of baggage (La Malle Postale), donkeys were used. There you have it

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Jeff, Nick, Monique, and I were assigned chalets. As I wrote, no camping for this boy.

They were spacious and adequate but with no insulation or heat. It got down to 46 last night. My hands were cold.

Our dinner was in the camp HQ. Believe it or not, the lasagna was very good. Since Monique smiled and finished her serving, the chef used mozzarella, not emmentaler.

Gray clouds in the sky. 30% chance of rain as we left St-Chély-d’Aubrac. The coat of arms of the village was a combination of its religious history — loyalty to the Catholic bishop and the Camino — and its textile industry, bobbins for weaving adjacent to the mitre.

Immediately after crossing the pilgrim’s bridge, we ascended up a steep hill affording a view of the village and its cemetery. From this point to St-Côme-d’Olt, the path that we are taking is part of the UNESCO World Heritage recognition of the Camino because it follows the original path. Other sections of the GR-65 have changed the original route to help current day pilgrims avoid traffic or to experience scenic viewpoints.

We went through forests, and fields with trees including the chestnut with its pods maturing. The 30% chance of rain turned into a reality at about 10:15 AM as we descended into the Lot River Valley. You can see Monique in the distance with her cerise colored umbrella. She reported receiving several compliments for her color coordinated rain gear.

As we entered St-Côme-d’Olt, we met up with Stefan from Montreal. Stefan, his sister, and brother-in-law will be hiking to St Jean PP and then over the Pyrenees. Expect more appearances in future blogs. After the selfie, Stefan took off like a TGV and was quickly out of sight. He was carrying 30 pounds in his backpack. We later learned that he is in late 50’s and will be retiring in a year. To be so young.

The rain stayed with us until 1 PM when we had lunch in St-Côme-d’Olt designated as one of the most beautiful villages in France. We agree — a well kept up village with original structures from the 12th century.

Our lunch was in the center of the village at a brasserie with a wide awning that allowed us to dine outside. Monique is another anchovy pizza fan! Look at those little fishies. Pizza came without cheese. The French version uses emmenthaler not mozzarella. Not the correct flavor according to Monique.

I ordered a bowl (bol in French) of guacamole pronounced like whack a mole in French – no o-lay at the end. Did I get a bowl (of chips)! The guacamole was a superb rendition.

After lunch, we toured the walled old town and its church before leaving on the bridge crossing the Lot.

After we crossed the bridge, we sauntered on a pathway along the river. Then, the GR-65 took a path up a mountain where we had the view below of the Lot River valley. We agreed that the view was spectacular. But ….. surely the pilgrims would have taken the easier route on the valley floor. What was diagramed in the guidebook as a stage with a descending slope had us working pretty hard to get to Espalion, our final destination.

We finally arrived in Espalion at 5:15 PM. We had been on the road for nine hours including our lunch break. It was a long day.

Dinner was served at 7 PM. An opening of melon, ham, and salad verte. The main was to be sausage and Aligot. Not again? We pleaded with the hostess to serve us an alternative. How about canard and pasta. Pasta, you wonder? The kitchen only serves guests of the hotel and plans one menu for all. Thus, no veggies because none were in the kitchen. But pasta was. We were all smiles.

As a note, we really like the rosé from the Languedoc of which the Lot is part. Six € for a half liter.

You saw the stars in yesterday’s blog. Now, sunrise from my window around 6 AM. The sky glowed.

We started by 8 AM to take advantage of the cool weather. The Aubrac has very limited shade as we learned. Shortly after leaving Nasbinals, we passed a threesome with the man towing a wagon. My first such occurrence on any multi-day hike. It will probably be hard to maneuver the wagon on the tracks that were yet to come. You’ll see what I mean.

Believe it or not. We came upon a lengthy and thick stand of trees! The image can’t capture how the sunlight filtered through the gaps between the trees. Beauty in nature.

As we turned away from the trees, the starkness of the Aubrac presented itself. A cow by its lonesome on this vast plain. Where were her companions?

Our final ascent consisted of ruts along the hillside. Remember our wagon driver? Mt Gudette stands in the background peering over the Aubrac.

After that final ascent, we started on a long downward slope that brought us to the village of Aubrac and its main town square. We ordered our mid-morning cafe au lait and settled in for our well-earned break. The L’Annexe d’Aubrac was decorated in a late 19th, early 20th Century style. Two chandeliers had translucent glass scallop shells (the symbol of the Camino) hanging from its frame.

We finished our coffee and started further downward until we reached an outlook. An information board stated that we had left the Aubrac Plateau. Pilgrims of old had exited the dangerous area of unpredictable weather, usually bad, of a barren land with limited food and water, and of marauding brigands. They were now safe to more comfortably walk on.

The image below looks west from that point. I’ll be traversing the land beyond the horizon to reach St Jean Pied-du-Port.

The first test after the point was the steep rocky path where we carefully placed each step. We went on for a mile with these rocks underfoot. Towards the bottom of the path, we encountered a cow nursing her calf.

We reached Saint-Chely-d’Aubrac by 2 PM because of the short distance of this stage. We stopped for lunch — mine was liquid bread. Other hikers that we have seen throughout the past days walked on to other destinations or stopped for lunch and drink as well.

We relaxed at our table until 4 PM when we were able to check into our hotel which was about 200 meters down the main street from where we had sat. In this village as the one before, the owners appeared to have several places to house tourists. The tourists then come to a central hotel for breakfast and dinner. As the Chemin becomes even more popular, this model of expansion seems to be quite successful and lucrative.

Before dinner, Monique and I took a walk around the village. We crossed the pilgrims’ bridge and walked through the village square. The people must be doing quite well. Several buildings were being renovated — gutted and the outer stone walls being realigned and pointed. You can imagine what that must cost.

Time for dinner. We opted to try the regional meats rather than the buffet. My cut was in the foreground — very good though it might not meet American tastes because of its leanness. I gave fellow travelers almost a half of my cut.

The roasted veggies were excellent as rated by our panel of experts. Condiments were brought to table for the pommes frites. American mayo! Of course, the ever present Heinz in Europe.

No aligot or cheese tonight though they were on the menu.

We started by 8 AM (59F) to beat the heat. Our way out of Aumot-Aubrac took us by a flatiron building and then a quick uphill to what is known as the Aubrac plateau.

The heat caught up to us around noon (80 F). We estimated that we had less than 1 percent shade throughout the walk. With the drought lasting over the summer months, the land was parched. We were told later to come back in April when the land is covered with wildflowers. For now, it was desert-like similar to what Camino veterans describe the Meseta, the Spanish plain west of Burgos.

I have included several photos of the Aubrac plateau to give you a feeling of the vastness of the area and the heat we experienced. About a third of the way, we stopped for coffee. I also tried the myrtille tart as luck would have it. A selfie would have shown a big smile.

Before we entered Nasbinals, we walked by some vacation units available for short-term renting. My twisted humor thought of these as the future American home for first time buyers. A sad and indeed a twisted thought.

We reached our final destination or so we thought. The Bastide family owns three hotels. Although the one with the family was listed on our manifest, we walked another mile into the village and then out to our hotel in the countryside. As I later discovered, a very quiet and dark location that afforded an episode of star gazing. Going with the flow, oftentimes results in a serendipitous ending.

But before revealing the hidden gem, dinner. Yesterday, I mentioned Jeff and Nick. They ended up at our hotel. The four of us walked back to the village to the Bastide establishment for dinner.

Although we could have ordered à la carte, we went with the menu — three courses but only one choice for each course. We all had paid for the menu ahead of time. À la carte would have been an additional cost.

We started with baked eggs and a salad. Both were good — only my second lifetime taste of a baked egg. I can’t recall the first. The salad was excellent — such fresh greens with a light mustard vinaigrette.

The next course was the local sausage and Aligot potatoes. Serving the Aligot was certainly eye catching especially for Nick.

I ended with the cheese course. Why do they tempt me so? For the first time ever, the waitress brought the board to the table and left it there. I cut what I wanted and the portions. I was “modest” in what I cut. Didn’t I say no more cheese in the last blog?

So, here are the four of us (left to right): Ron, Monique, Jeff, and Nick. All contented. We better have been. That’s not Ferdinand, the Kindly Bull, overlooking us.

Finally, the star gazing. As we walked the 400 meters back to our hotel, we all commented about the density of the stars. The sky was wondrous. We were awe struck. When I got up in the middle of the night, I could not resist taking an image of the star filled sky. Tap the photo to get a better rendition of the image.

The adventure continues tomorrow.

Our guide stated 20km Les Faux to Amont-Aubrac. We figured an easy day — 12 miles. It turned out more difficult because of the heat — 80 degrees at the high with very little shade. Monique even took out her umbrella midway to shield her from the sun. My skin took a beating even with a healthy smear of sunscreen.

Much of the hike was on paved or fine gravel roads. Once in a while, we encountered some very uneven and rocky terrain. Should have been fairly easy except for the heat.

We mostly saw fields that had been cut for cow feed or had been left fallow. You can tell in the photo below that the cows were impressed with the quality of the straw given to them. Remember Elsie, the contented cow, of Borden milk fame. I don’t think that any of these cows would even make the preliminary audition for a new Elsie given their looks.

We reached Aumont-Aubrec at 4. Before checking in, we stopped for some refreshments sitting outside at a local bar. The wind had kicked up and clouds were magnificent. A moment to savor.

At 7, time for dinner at our Hotel Prunieres, a sixth generation hotel and restaurant. Jeff and Nick, the English fellows at our dinner table last night, joined us. Their stories and photos will come later because they will walk to St Jean Pied-Du-Port as well and the booked with Camino Ways, my company.

The dinner was excellent. I chose the local sausage rather than the tripe. The showstopper was the aligot mashed potatoes which was mixed with creamy tome cheese. The potatoes’ texture was like thick pancake batter. We all gave it the thumbs up.

I also had another tough choice to make: myrtille (blueberry) tart or local cheeses plus Roquefort. I chose fromage. We have the Historic Bethlehem Blueberry festival annually so I can get my blueberry fix. But real French cheese. I’ll need to cut out cheeses when I get home. For the moment, one happy boy.

A potential 20 miler tomorrow. Time for bed.

We started out at 8 AM, still dark and cold (48 F) with a statue pointing the way south. Although the ascents were mostly gentle, we still recorded almost 2,000 feet of elevation gain.

What struck us was the topography of area through which the trail went. We were in open fields for a mile or two then in dense forest. We were in direct sunlight for 30 minutes and then in shade. Thank goodness for the shade. We certainly felt the sun’s power as the morning approached noon.

Monique commented that it was quite warm for mid-September. Coupled with low rainfall, the fields had browned. I included an image of a house in the middle of a dry field – a perfect setting for filming the new Little House On The Prairie.

In between, we took two breaks. The first included coffee for Monique and of course beer for me. We shared a pear tart. The cost will break your heart – 5.50 € or $6.30. At the other establishment, a coffee and beer where it sold local products such as shiitake chips and crisps (probably appealing to both an American and UK customers). Check out the flavors: Original, Truffle, Garlic, and Wasabi. Monique told me that wasabi is gaining a large loyal following in Europe. Shiitake. I should have checked the nutritional table. The healthy alternative to my favorite potato chip. I say potato and you say shiitake. Does have quite the same flow.

We eventually reached our hotel at 5:30. We were on the road for 9.5 hours. I thought that I would notched a 20 miler. Alas. But several future several stages have the potential of being 20 milers.

Soon, it was dinner. We shared a table of eight — four French, two English (who will be going the distance to St Jean Pied du Port using Camino Ways, my travel planner for this trip), one Swiss (Monique), and one American (moi). After a quick discussion of American politics, we moved to a wide range of topics.

Dinner was served family style with an opening salad, roasted chicken thigh and drumstick with potatoes and beans that ended with a thick chocolate pudding. Our wines were from the region – Puy de Dome. Very satisfying. I was not thinking clearly. I did not take a photo of our table. C’est dommage.

Another quiet night in the French countryside.

Shortly after leaving St Privat d’Allier, we descended down a path covered with broken pieces of terracotta roof tiles. We surmised that they were placed there to create more traction for hikers. The rocks underneath were probably very slippery especially during rains. A first for both of us.

Our first stop was the Rochegude Chapel and Tower. A kindly Canadian took our photo before the chapel in the distance which commanded a wide view of valleys of the D’Allier River.

Rounding the chapel, we began our 1000 foot descent to the floor of the valley where we crossed the D’Allier River by the Pont Eiffel, yes, the same guy of tower fame.

After a refreshment break, we started our 1500 foot ascent towards Saugues. We had a wonderful panorama of the river and its town, Monistrol-d’Allier. Nearing the top, we passed the Chapelle de la Madeleine that was built into the face of the mountain.

After six miles, we encountered wooden sculptures on the outskirts of Saugues, our end point. Notice the scallop shell hanging from the tallest candle. The descent was steep but we knew that our hotel was about a mile away.

Dinner was early — 6:30. Our waitress told us that people in this town are early to bed, early to rise. The town was eerily quiet and dark when we made our way back to the hotel.

But a short commentary about dinner which began with a glass of kir. We both ordered the lentil salad — excellent. I had a local fresh water fish while Monique asked for an omelette. I ended with three local cheeses from a semi-hard like Comte to a very subtle blue. In between was a creamy cheese with a soft rind with ash — not Morbier but a distant cousin.

A short walk back to hotel for a well deserved sleep. I took an image of the Tour des Anglais built in the 13th Century during the Hundred Years War that loomed in front of my window. All was peaceful tonight.