We had nothing to do today and all day to do it. We had the most leisurely or lazy morning enjoying tea and a book in bed then headed out into the wet, cold and rainy day with the intention of touring the old city of Lyon. The weather sure wasn't favourable to sightseeing. A good walk took us across a bridge and the river to the old city where we needed a cafe and hot chocolate to warm up. My ankle was hindering my already limited stride so when we discovered that we could take a furnicular up the huge hill to see the cathedral we were all over that.
The cathedral is like a gigantic inverted elephant with its huge thick legs pointing up into the sky. The cathedral looked out over the city of Lyon, a truly impressive sight - red roofs for miles and miles. After the cathedral we walked over to the Roman ruins. Just such a weird sight to have their magnificently restored Roman amphitheatre and ruins right in the heart of this area.
It was still wet and cold when we came back down and started to retrace our steps back to the hotel. We passed a huge square where there was another strike protest but everything seemed relatively in control and peaceful. We ended up at another Italian pizza restaurant and then back to the hotel where we repacked and watched a Germany cooking show - just like Chopped. Couldn't understand the commentary but, hey, it's a food show and food is a universal language and all the food looked great.
Saturday, October 30, 2010
Moissac to Toulouse Thu. Oct. 14, 2010
We have finished walking for this year and for this half of our Chemin Le Puy. We've walked half as far as last year, only about 420-450 kms, and for half as many days, only 17, but our bodies feel no different than when we finished the complete Camino Frances. We're tired and aching and mentally relieved to be done. At the same time it definitely feels unfinished. Part of being mentally and physically finished is because of our starting expectations. With limited time this year we had planned to walk only to Moissac and so that's what we were mentally geared up for, what we worked towards and anticipated. I'm sure if we had initially set out to end up in St. Jean Pied de Port we would have just put on our boots and packs again today at 7:30am and started walking.
As it was, we gave Julia our mefix, extra snacks, a whistle and our love and then we did put on our boots and packs at 7:30am but it was to head out and catch a bus. The potential train strike is now in fact an actuality so we needed to catch a bus. Julia walked us to the gare and we had a very tearful goodbye. She was desolate and we felt like deserters. It's amazing how well the three of us have fit together over the last eleven days. We been together pretty well 24/7 for that time. We've shared our fatigue, jokes, challenges, food, friendship, stories and sarcasm. A cutting example of the latter was when we were leaving Lauzerte and we passed Le Maison des Retraites and Julia pointed out, "Oh, Karen and Dayton, here's the gite you should have stayed at"! I thought it was a retreat but she informed me that it was a retirement home for us old folks.
As Julia headed out into the dark, we waited for the bus. We had to take a bus to Montaubon and then transfer to a train for Toulouse. Surprisingly, when we got to the train station there were conductors waving us quickly into and through the train station, across the tracks and onto the waiting train. So that part of our trip went okay. In Toulouse, it was a lot more confusing. Everyone was lining up at the ticket office to try to make arrangements to travel and no one really had any definite answers about which trains were still running or would be running the next day. I made the mistake of taking one clerk's advice and decided to wait until later in the day to see if the rapid trains were going to run. If I had just purchased tickets on the regular trains we could have gotten to Lyon via Montpelier in about three hours. As it was, by the time I purchased our tickets all those trains were completely sold out and we were lucky to get tickets for Lyon via Marseilles. The bad news was it was about eight hours on the train with a couple of hours layover in between; the good news - we would get a scenic train tour of the Mediterranean coast. Also the train travel was relatively comfortable and I had my ebook so quite content. I have to give a shout out to the ticket clerks. They kept their cool on what must have been an extremely hectic day. They helped one frantic traveller after another, fluctuating from French to English or Spanish or German and did everything they could to get people on trains to wherever they needed to go.
The strike was quite evident all around us in Toulouse. There were protests at the train station and riot police at the ready everywhere. When we got to our Hotel Victor Hugo, the concierge, a former pilgrim and kindred soul, commiserated with our train ticket woes and, almost proudly, stated that, while the French can't win a championship in football (soccer over here), they are the world champions of strikes. On our walking tour of Toulouse we passed a couple of schools, a lycee and an art school. French students are quite political and they were adding their demonstrations to the protest. The strike centers on proposed legislation which would raise the retirement age from 60 to 62 which isn't making anyone happy. Older workers resent having to work longer and students worry about the lack of jobs for the youth.
We just counted ourselves lucky that we could still get on any train and that we had a chance to get to Lyon in good time to catch our flight to return home. A few days later, we may not have been so fortunate.
By the way, I did get my McDonalds comfort fries at the Marseilles train station.
As it was, we gave Julia our mefix, extra snacks, a whistle and our love and then we did put on our boots and packs at 7:30am but it was to head out and catch a bus. The potential train strike is now in fact an actuality so we needed to catch a bus. Julia walked us to the gare and we had a very tearful goodbye. She was desolate and we felt like deserters. It's amazing how well the three of us have fit together over the last eleven days. We been together pretty well 24/7 for that time. We've shared our fatigue, jokes, challenges, food, friendship, stories and sarcasm. A cutting example of the latter was when we were leaving Lauzerte and we passed Le Maison des Retraites and Julia pointed out, "Oh, Karen and Dayton, here's the gite you should have stayed at"! I thought it was a retreat but she informed me that it was a retirement home for us old folks.
As Julia headed out into the dark, we waited for the bus. We had to take a bus to Montaubon and then transfer to a train for Toulouse. Surprisingly, when we got to the train station there were conductors waving us quickly into and through the train station, across the tracks and onto the waiting train. So that part of our trip went okay. In Toulouse, it was a lot more confusing. Everyone was lining up at the ticket office to try to make arrangements to travel and no one really had any definite answers about which trains were still running or would be running the next day. I made the mistake of taking one clerk's advice and decided to wait until later in the day to see if the rapid trains were going to run. If I had just purchased tickets on the regular trains we could have gotten to Lyon via Montpelier in about three hours. As it was, by the time I purchased our tickets all those trains were completely sold out and we were lucky to get tickets for Lyon via Marseilles. The bad news was it was about eight hours on the train with a couple of hours layover in between; the good news - we would get a scenic train tour of the Mediterranean coast. Also the train travel was relatively comfortable and I had my ebook so quite content. I have to give a shout out to the ticket clerks. They kept their cool on what must have been an extremely hectic day. They helped one frantic traveller after another, fluctuating from French to English or Spanish or German and did everything they could to get people on trains to wherever they needed to go.
The strike was quite evident all around us in Toulouse. There were protests at the train station and riot police at the ready everywhere. When we got to our Hotel Victor Hugo, the concierge, a former pilgrim and kindred soul, commiserated with our train ticket woes and, almost proudly, stated that, while the French can't win a championship in football (soccer over here), they are the world champions of strikes. On our walking tour of Toulouse we passed a couple of schools, a lycee and an art school. French students are quite political and they were adding their demonstrations to the protest. The strike centers on proposed legislation which would raise the retirement age from 60 to 62 which isn't making anyone happy. Older workers resent having to work longer and students worry about the lack of jobs for the youth.
We just counted ourselves lucky that we could still get on any train and that we had a chance to get to Lyon in good time to catch our flight to return home. A few days later, we may not have been so fortunate.
By the way, I did get my McDonalds comfort fries at the Marseilles train station.
Day 17 Lauzerte to Moissac Wed. Oct 13 2010
So often the days and the towns and the paths just merge together in one's impressions and memories. Dayton has an incredible memory for geographic detail. He can recall where the path was paved, where it was rough and rocky, which came first - a farm field or a river walk. On the other hand, I'm hopeless. I need photographic evidence and journal entries to recall where we went, when we went and where we stayed and where we turned in and when we were on the road. Ergo - my blog. The entire point of being on a pilgrimage is to live simply and to be in the moment but sometimes during the walk I just follow the leader and rather than 'be in the moment' I'm often 'lost in the moment'. I keep losing touch with one of my primary goals - to pay attention.
This was the morning that Valentine and I were at breakfast early and were talking about our children. She reminded me of Sainte Rita, the patron saint of hopeless and desperate causes and encouraged me to pray to Sainte Rita to ask for help for some of the things that are worrisome for me. I'm anxious that, now that my children have completed their Masters degrees, they find a viable and satisfying job and career. I'm anxious that, now that my mother has moved out of her home and into an apartment, she is able to sell her house and lessen that financial burden. Following Valentine's spiritual advice, I added a few prayerful moments to my walking meditation.
Sometimes the camino adds extra kilometres to the route just to take the walkers away from a busy auto route. Today we walked an extra two or three kilometres through a non-descript field just to avoid a half a kilometer along a main road. Not sure I needed to be spared that. We had also been warned that when you see your first sign indicating you were in Moissac you really had another three kilometres to walk. Good to know. Coming into Moissac was our first instance of commercial and city life; streets, traffic, industry and noise. As we walked the three kilometres into the centre of Moissac, I was excited to see a McDonalds sign. Now McDonalds holds no particular appeal to me at home but here it was a beacon of comfort and I was on the lookout for the promised golden arches. Never did find them. McDonalds must have been off the GR65 and I don't veer from the GR65 - not even for McDonalds.
We did find the tourist information center beside the beautiful abbey and then went on to find our chambre d'hote, Ultreia. This gite d'etape with chambres was run by an Irish couple who had walked their own pilgrimage a few years ago and opened their gite with the intention of making the experience of other pilgrims a good one. They definitely added to our camino. We were greeted immediately with the offer of food and drink and a good chat. Julia was in the gite and Dayton and I had booked a room to ourselves. Before dinner, we headed back up to the abbey to hear the nuns chant vespers. The nuns voices were so pure and beautiful. Didn't have a clue what they were singing and chanting but it was a nice sound nonetheless.There was a little boy, about 6 years old, who sat silently beside one of the nuns following the service in a huge hymn book. After the service, it was this youngster who proudly stamped our credenciales.
Back at the gite, we had a simple but hearty dinner of soup, green beans, carrots, boiled potatoes, chicken in wine sauce for the non-vegetarians and a pasta with veggies and chevre cheese for me. Dessert was ice cream with peaches and a raspberry coulis and a biscuit. And for the first time, tea and coffee were offered after dinner. Wonderful. I'm not saying we didn't eat well on our Camino Frances in Spain but we certainly did not have the variety that we have had in France and, other than potatoes and soggy white asparagus, we certainly did not have vegetables. This is good, really good.
This was the morning that Valentine and I were at breakfast early and were talking about our children. She reminded me of Sainte Rita, the patron saint of hopeless and desperate causes and encouraged me to pray to Sainte Rita to ask for help for some of the things that are worrisome for me. I'm anxious that, now that my children have completed their Masters degrees, they find a viable and satisfying job and career. I'm anxious that, now that my mother has moved out of her home and into an apartment, she is able to sell her house and lessen that financial burden. Following Valentine's spiritual advice, I added a few prayerful moments to my walking meditation.
Sometimes the camino adds extra kilometres to the route just to take the walkers away from a busy auto route. Today we walked an extra two or three kilometres through a non-descript field just to avoid a half a kilometer along a main road. Not sure I needed to be spared that. We had also been warned that when you see your first sign indicating you were in Moissac you really had another three kilometres to walk. Good to know. Coming into Moissac was our first instance of commercial and city life; streets, traffic, industry and noise. As we walked the three kilometres into the centre of Moissac, I was excited to see a McDonalds sign. Now McDonalds holds no particular appeal to me at home but here it was a beacon of comfort and I was on the lookout for the promised golden arches. Never did find them. McDonalds must have been off the GR65 and I don't veer from the GR65 - not even for McDonalds.
We did find the tourist information center beside the beautiful abbey and then went on to find our chambre d'hote, Ultreia. This gite d'etape with chambres was run by an Irish couple who had walked their own pilgrimage a few years ago and opened their gite with the intention of making the experience of other pilgrims a good one. They definitely added to our camino. We were greeted immediately with the offer of food and drink and a good chat. Julia was in the gite and Dayton and I had booked a room to ourselves. Before dinner, we headed back up to the abbey to hear the nuns chant vespers. The nuns voices were so pure and beautiful. Didn't have a clue what they were singing and chanting but it was a nice sound nonetheless.There was a little boy, about 6 years old, who sat silently beside one of the nuns following the service in a huge hymn book. After the service, it was this youngster who proudly stamped our credenciales.
Back at the gite, we had a simple but hearty dinner of soup, green beans, carrots, boiled potatoes, chicken in wine sauce for the non-vegetarians and a pasta with veggies and chevre cheese for me. Dessert was ice cream with peaches and a raspberry coulis and a biscuit. And for the first time, tea and coffee were offered after dinner. Wonderful. I'm not saying we didn't eat well on our Camino Frances in Spain but we certainly did not have the variety that we have had in France and, other than potatoes and soggy white asparagus, we certainly did not have vegetables. This is good, really good.
Day 16 Lascabanes to Lauzerte Tue. Oct. 12, 1210
When we walked the Camino Frances last year, we always started walking around 6:30am just as the sun was rising. It was May and the days were lengthening and we loved to take advantage of the peaceful silence of the early morning. Now, in October, on Le Chemin Le Puy, the daylight comes much later so we wait for it, indulging in a light breakfast and leisurely cup of tea or coffee and usually head out after 7:30 or even 8:00am. Not so Valentine. Our lovely New Caledonia lady walks at a much slower pace than her travelling companion, Jocelyne, so they have developed their own routine. Valentine has an early breakfast and heads out into the dark with her headlamp on. Jocelyne leaves an hour or so later and they meet up later in the morning. There are usually several phone calls back and forth to keep in touch. By late in the day their pace in a little bit more in sync. It is really ideal to have a walking companion whose pace matches your own. In that sense, Dayton and I are not ideal walking companions. My stride is too short so it's difficult for him to inch along with me. We tend to walk several meters apart, Dayton path finding and leading the way. Julia fits in with us really well. Sometimes she'll stride out and keep up with Dayton but often is content to settle back with me. And sometimes all three of us are spread out lost in our thoughts. It was a beautifully clear and sunny day as we walked from Lascabanes to Lauzerte. The only problem was the mud caking on our boots. Jocelyne had walked the first couple of hours with us until we got to Montcuq where we went in search of an epicerie for fruit and drinks and Jocelyne went in search of Valentine. This should have been an easy day but I just don't find any days EASY, not when it's hot, not when I'm carrying a pack, not when it's muddy and my boots weigh 3kgs each, and not when I'm walking 25 kms. Not that I'm whining at all. We took a lunch break after Montlauzan and walked a fairly sheltered path into Lauzerte. It was going into Lauzerte that we were surprised by a 'supermarket' - a cross between a dollar store, a grocery store and a Zellers. Shampoo and wine were at the top of the shopping list and the the usual food for the next day's lunch - banana, apple, cheese and bread. A short walk up the hill (of course) and we found our gite, a long, low salmon coloured brick building. Being greeted at the open door of a gite by a friendly face and someone telling you to drop your pack and sit and have a cool drink is so wonderful. Once again we have found a wonderful gite; a friendly helpful hospitalero, free computer and internet access, big clean rooms with ensuite showers and washrooms and great food. Michel, the owner, helped us book a gite in Moissac and tried to find us the best way to visit Rocomadour. It turns out there is no best way. The trains are probably not running because as Michel says, "It's France". Julia, Dayton and I walked up to the lovely medieval city. It was lovely with a beautiful big centre square but once again everything was closed up and deserted. The only signs of life were the sounds of children playing in the schoolyard. It seemed an odd juxtaposition; the joyful sounds of children playing and the silence of the empty square. Dinner at Lauzerte was another marvel. Just the potatoes au gratin, made with deliciously creamy Gruyere cheese, were enough to make me rethink my French Fry addiction. I'm not saying they were good but tomorrows 25km probably won't be enough to wear off the four servings I indulged in. There were at least six courses served starting with an aperitif and appetizers. Apparently that downing that potent aperitif was imperative! The second course was not going to be served until everyone had finished their drink.Then we had soup and a creamy meat infused salad and bread and the potatoes and a pork meat course. There was the de riguer cheese tray, grapes and a mousse dessert. It was a very lively group at the table and conversations were going side to side, across the table and down the table, in English, French and German. Whew! We waddled away from the table with a few extra kgs under our belt and some good memories.
Friday, October 29, 2010
Day 15 Cahors to Lascabanes Mon. Oct. 11, 2010
Well today we found out when the cafes are open - 8:00am! As we walked out of town through the slowly awakening city streets, we found the cafes quite busy with morning coffee drinkers, leisurely taking time for their caffeine boost before they head off to work. The way out of town took us across the river via a beautiful three towered bridge and to the foot of an imposing cliff. And yes, we began our steep climb up the rocky steps of the cliff which was called the 'passage sportif'. It was very slow going as the steps were slick, wet and slippery and really, really deep so it was quite a stretch and a struggle for my short stride. After we reached the top and were catching our breathe, Dayton took out his Alison Raju guide book and NOW read the advice that says "if it is wet, or if your packs are too heavy, then take the road not the 'passage sportif". Might have been a good idea to read that at the bottom of the cliff! The rest of the day was on and off light rain, fairly flat terrain so it should have been easy going but.........mud! The mud of the paths would cake our boots so that it was like walking on four inch platform heels and carrying an extra four pounds of weight on our feet. Julia and I were both complaining of shin splints and Dayton was coughing. Not looking good. It was slick and wet all day and we were averaging not much more than 3kms an hour. Pitifully slow. One thing that isn't slow is the way the French drive. There seems to be a tendency to drive all out, pedal to the metal and all. This time the wet roads took their toll as we noticed a car overturned on the side of the road and the emergency crews working at the scene. The gite in Lascabanes, Le Nid de Anges, was a five star gite. There was an opportunity to go to mass before dinner but we decided to stay in the lounge area, write our journals, massage our shin splints and share a very nice bottle of red wine. I personally found that to be a very spiritual release. That Cecile, our hostess, was a very dedicated, talented perfectionist had already been evident by how clean and neatly organized her gite was. There were shelves of items for purchase on the honour system; chocolate bars, soaps, fruits and postcards. Posted signs informed us of the 'house rules' - where to put muddy boots, where to put used sheets and pillowcases. The dining room was set up with a variety of teas and cookies. Very welcoming. Dinner was a marvel. We had a wonderful soup, followed by a bulgar wheat vegetarian entree for the vegetarians (doh) and a chicken fricasse that the meat lovers raved over. The apple cobbler with a raspberry coulis for dessert was wonderful. This was one of the gites we'd like to return to just for the food.
Day 14 Vaylats to Cahors Sun. Oct. 10, 2010
If ever there was an easier day on a 'camino' this would come close. We had petit dejeuner at 7am and were packed up and looking for our way out of town by 8:15am. Wisely we trusted Dayton's research and instincts and found the right path. We soon stopped to put on rain gear but it was more of a spritzing of rain so not a problem. The trail was level but rocky. We were in Cahors by 2:30pm. We followed a steep paved road into town and over a bridge and came across a pilgrims' information centre. What a godsend! The pilgrims' centre was manned by a very helpful gracious lady who served us cookies and cold drinks and who called ahead to reserve us a space at the gite Jeunes de Quercy. This was our first truly shared gite experience so far. We shared a very cramped room with Julia and Fleme, a Belgium fellow we had met in Vaylats. It was Sunday and it was afternoon - ergo - everything was closed up tight. Julia, Dayton and I ended up going to a restaurant around 6pm and had to drink tea and wine for an hour to kill time until food could be served. It was another pizza night and it was great. At the gite, I was surprised to meet up with Jocelyne again. Jocelyne and Valentine were the two ladies from New Caledonia whom we met our first night in St. Privat. When we had met them, it was around 5pm and I was in my 'day is done and it's time for wine' mode and these ladies were just taking a quiche break before heading out for another 10 kms or so. They hefted their humongous packs onto their packs and set out. I thought they would have been many days ahead of us by the time we got to Cahors but they had taken a variant route to go an extra two days north to Rocomadour and then two days back to the main G65 route. Their guide books had been off quite a bit on the mileage and facilities available. What was listed as 27kms turned out to be more like 37km sand the 29kms the second day was 40kms. Jocelyne had finally called 'foul' and took a taxi into Cahors. Valentine was still walking. (She eventually threw in the towel after 11 hours walking and she too called a taxi to finish up the day.) In my mind, there's nothing worse than expecting to walk 25 kms and finding out it's 27 or 30 or more. I think the writers of these guide books have a moral responsibility to be accurate or at least over estimate so that we can have the joyful relief of finding out that we're done earlier than expected. All of our 'camino pod' was at this gite; Ann Marie, Brigitte, Jocelyne and Valentine but it soon became clear that the pod was breaking up. Ann Marie and Fleme had declared the next day a 'rest day' and were going to spend the day in Cahors at the cafes and going to the cinema. Brigitte was going to get a train to Toulouse. Brigitte had heard about the potential train strike and wanted to ensure that she was in Toulouse in time to get her plane back to Montreal. We were warned about the impending storms heading our way and wondered what our plan should be. What to do? Walk.
Day 13 Cajarc to Vaylats Sat. October 9, 2010
Our proprietress, Madame Celine showed up at 7:30am armed with baquettes for our breakfast and the invoice for our night's lodging. We were off at 7:45am and met Ann Marie as we were leaving town. Meeting up with Ann Marie is always a good sign because she always knows where the route is.
We played leap frog with her all day. We walked for half an hour before we hit the morning's steep climb - 50 minutes up a rocky path. We took one rest and drink break and then had lunch in Limogne en Quercy. We had our picnic lunch on the patio of a pizza shop. We didn't worry about taking advantage of their patio as the restaurant was closed and the sign indicated that it was only open three nights a week; Thursday, Friday and Saturday from 9:30pm until 11:30pm. Seriously! As I've mentioned, businesses, shops, restaurants and grocery stores all close down in the afternoon. We were fortunate enough to arrive at the tourist office in Limogne en Quercy and make reservation at the monastery in Vaylats just before they shut down for the afternoon too. We've discovered that most towns have tourist offices and that most of them are closed most of the time. That might be a slight exaggeration but not much of one.
This was another hot, sweaty, thirsty and long day. We weren't moving very quickly and our water bottles were empty. The few little villages we passed through had 'rien', nothing; no epiceries, no cafes and no potable water to be found. Our guide book said there was an nice restaurant in Bach, just three or four kilometers from our destination but that it was not open on weekends. Well, as we passed said restaurant, I saw some people sitting at tables on the patio and we were delightfully surprised to learn that it was open and the owner welcomed us up for some drinks, tonic with lemon - marvellous. Her restaurant had been featured on one of Jamie Oliver's cooking shows and she was still beaming with pride. That welcomed rest and the drinks gave us enough of a second wind to walk through the fields and laneways up to the monastery.
The monastery in Vaylats is still a very active convent of nuns. It was a huge complex of buildings. At dinner the dining hall was quite full of nuns, hospitaleros, pilgrims and visitors. It was a rather unassuming and unpromising start to the dinner. A very watery, 'maybe vegetarian' soup and large bowls of green beans with hard boiled eggs, and a marinated mystery meat salad were served to each table. Everyone was helping themselves to seconds and thirds, thinking this was the entire menu. Surprise! Large platters of pasta and bowls of a lamb stew were brought out and this course was followed by a large selections of cheeses and just when we thought we were finished, the hospitalero gave us all ice cream nutty buddies. Going to need a big morning climb to wear this one off.
We played leap frog with her all day. We walked for half an hour before we hit the morning's steep climb - 50 minutes up a rocky path. We took one rest and drink break and then had lunch in Limogne en Quercy. We had our picnic lunch on the patio of a pizza shop. We didn't worry about taking advantage of their patio as the restaurant was closed and the sign indicated that it was only open three nights a week; Thursday, Friday and Saturday from 9:30pm until 11:30pm. Seriously! As I've mentioned, businesses, shops, restaurants and grocery stores all close down in the afternoon. We were fortunate enough to arrive at the tourist office in Limogne en Quercy and make reservation at the monastery in Vaylats just before they shut down for the afternoon too. We've discovered that most towns have tourist offices and that most of them are closed most of the time. That might be a slight exaggeration but not much of one.
This was another hot, sweaty, thirsty and long day. We weren't moving very quickly and our water bottles were empty. The few little villages we passed through had 'rien', nothing; no epiceries, no cafes and no potable water to be found. Our guide book said there was an nice restaurant in Bach, just three or four kilometers from our destination but that it was not open on weekends. Well, as we passed said restaurant, I saw some people sitting at tables on the patio and we were delightfully surprised to learn that it was open and the owner welcomed us up for some drinks, tonic with lemon - marvellous. Her restaurant had been featured on one of Jamie Oliver's cooking shows and she was still beaming with pride. That welcomed rest and the drinks gave us enough of a second wind to walk through the fields and laneways up to the monastery.
The monastery in Vaylats is still a very active convent of nuns. It was a huge complex of buildings. At dinner the dining hall was quite full of nuns, hospitaleros, pilgrims and visitors. It was a rather unassuming and unpromising start to the dinner. A very watery, 'maybe vegetarian' soup and large bowls of green beans with hard boiled eggs, and a marinated mystery meat salad were served to each table. Everyone was helping themselves to seconds and thirds, thinking this was the entire menu. Surprise! Large platters of pasta and bowls of a lamb stew were brought out and this course was followed by a large selections of cheeses and just when we thought we were finished, the hospitalero gave us all ice cream nutty buddies. Going to need a big morning climb to wear this one off.
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