Aveyron

Breakfast was at 8am. Actually, 8:02am. Our room was in a separate building that served breakfast, but not dinner. There were perhaps 20 rooms, and it was managed by a large, non-English speaking grump. The room set up for breakfast was behind the entrance foyer. She turned the lights on and unlocked the door at 8:02 when the foyer was crowded. Inside, each table had cutlery, a napkin, a basket with croissants, chocolate rolls and sliced baguette, plus a small, silver bowl of jam, but the crowd moved in formation straight to the coffee urn, which meant the things beside it (hot water, milk, cheese, salamis, yoghurt, cake) were invisible to the world. Perhaps five minutes later they appeared again, and we had breakfast, too.

We left around 9am. The good St Craig of Kiama let me keep the waterproof overpants again. I have suggested to St Craig and his wife, Liz, that I will buy the pants, or a new pair just the same at the first shop we find (probably on Monday in Espalion, which is c, 4,000 people (Nasbinals 500)), so my suggestion was that we solve two issues and I buy him the size he wants and take his. We will see...

We walked through the town, up a wooded hill, then across fields. When we arrived at the exposed fields an Arctic gale set in. Thankfully no heavy rain. It might even have been that we were in clouds: it looked like there was rain all around us, but there were never many drops. There are, after all, a couple of Alpine ski resorts (one with black runs) less than 10 km away. It was not the stuff of guide books, but it was different and invigorating, and even charming in its own way. I had not anticipated walking on wind-swept moors, but it had that ethereal, isolated and rugged feel. Call me Nellie Dean, if you will, but Heathcliff would have felt right at home. We heard that one man was (literally) blown over.

After a small village we walked up a road for a bit, then through a forest and along a very stony path that had some steep, slippery sections (all down, thank goodness), then between mossy rock walls. It was the muddiest day to date, with boots and lower trousers all suffering. The wind dropped down around 1130, and the clouds lightened, so soon it was lovely just walking along. We passed a young French couple from Normandy whose English was as bad as our French, but they want to go to Oz even thought they have heard that it is very dangerous with all the animals.

Lots more downhill to St Chely, . We arrived around 1:45pm, and the hotel opens at 3pm. It wasn't snowing as at St Privat, but it was cold! We walked around the village, which is extremely pretty, looked in the church, then sat at the tables outside the hotel with some others...mostly Australian, as it turned out.

The hotel (Les Coudercous) is good. It is another in the Logis chain, which Rosie alerted us to as being good. Dinner was amazingly good. Anne had a terrine, incredibly tender veal in mustard, and a nut cake. I had a vegetable soup with cheese, trout perfectly cooked) and a raspberry cake ( the healthy option). The waiter had worked in the UK and US for years, then spent a long time in Asia, and beside our table was a man walking from Bordeaux to Lyon (a different but recognised trail) who had started off in 29 degrees carrying all his gear, and wondering why he brought cold-weather gear. He was from Annandale Street, Annandale (Sydney).

Lovely room, good-humoured man at reception, and we had to leave our muddy boots in an annexe. 1. Soap, good shower (best, per RAS),wifi in room, but no tea or coffee. 2 middle of town. 3. Good room with good bed, accessible power points and controllable heater.

Tomorrow we walk only 16km, then 7km the next day to the larger town of Espalion, and the chance to sight-see and shop. The forecast for tomorrow is not bad at all: 6 deg-12 deg, likely to rain a little (but heavier at night) and the wind will drop. Rain may be a little heavier in the days afterwards.

25,778 steps, 19.6km and 76 flights. Easier than yesterday!Weiterlesen