Day 37–Saturday, August 5. Auberge d’Astau (8 miles)

OK, I’ll own this one for the low mileage today. I didn’t write yesterday’s blog entry until this morning (mainly because Pam drugged me with Vitamin I and melatonin on top of 2 beers–the poor man’s rufie combination). I got up and headed in the gite about 7. Pam came in around 8, and that’s where she drug me into her crime world.

Since it was getting late, we decided to eat at the gite. We went into the dining area and they said to go ahead and eat and we could figure out who to pay later. The problem was that no employees were around later, so we ended up with a free breakfast (it was only bread, jam, and coffee–nothing really substantial). While Pam was behind the bar looking for food, she spied the salt and pepper shakers. She brought a pair over, threw the pepper shaker at me with a pill pouch and said “Pour it in or die.” I truly feared for my life.

When I got done pouring it in the bag, she yelled at me “Why didn’t you pour more in?” I can only pour in what you steal, next time steal a full shaker. She went behind the bar and came back with a full baggie of the dark stuff. She then asked me if she needed to label the salt or could I tell it from the other white powder she’s making me carry–I swear on the Bible, I’m only a mule. When they track us down with all the loot she’s been “sticky fingering” I’ll need witnesses. The real reason my pack is so heavy is all the hotel towels she’s stuffed in it!

By the time we left the gite, it was only 9:30, but still very foggy. Since we hadn’t paid for breakfast, we stopped at another cafe at the other end of the village for a cafe-au-lait. I prayed she had gotten her clepto fix for the day and we didn’t end up with another 10 sugars and a roll of tp. Thankfully, she was satisfied with just taking pictures. I feel like Bonnie and Clyde on a run across the country.

I’ve discovered another reason to not like the author of our guidebook; actually two. 1) He recommends taking a taxi (TAKING A TAXI) for the road sections when the GR10 actually enters the wilderness for a couple of 5 day stretches rather than actually carrying food, tent, and stove. And 2) He picks major points and then draws the elevation profile as a straight line between those points.

We were expecting a nice easy walk out of town with a 650′ gain over the course of 4 miles. What we got was a 400′ gain in 100 yards followed by a relatively level walk for a couple of miles and then another steep climb at the end. Not that it was that bad, but I like accuracy and truth–a problem I am having with the current administration as well as the guidebook.

We stopped for lunch before the really steep climb started–2000′ in less than a mile and a half. We did it in less than 2 hours including breaks. We are getting a little stronger. We started out below the clouds and climbed into a mist. By the time we got to the pass, we were in full fog with less than 50′ visibility. I can kick myself for yesterday’s post about our fog curse being over.

We climbed down 3500′ in what started as a drizzle, but kept increasing to a full rain. It was only 3 miles, but it zapped us with the steepness and rain. We were originally planning to go 10 miles today to Lac d’Oo, but we couldn’t see the point in hiking another 2 miles in the rain and fog, so we decided to stay at a gite and get out of the rain.

Yesterday in Germ, we met a nice guy from Paris who is about our age. Tonight before supper, we ran into him again and had beers together. I will remember to get his name and take a picture of him tomorrow. He is feeling the effects of age on his hiking and can tell a difference in the last couple of years. He’s 57, just a couple years older than Pam. I felt like a babe sitting at the table with both of them.

There were only 8 of us at supper: 3 French couples and us. This was one of the most uncomfortable experiences we have ever had. We could pick up a few place names from the discussion but no one tried to include us. The little bit of French I know didn’t give me enough comfort to join the conversation, so Pam and I ordered another beer to help pass the time. Someone farted at the table (an SBD–silent but deadly); I’m sure whoever did it, tried to blame the Americans and their beer.