It's been raining since early morning, so glad we're not walking today. We had breakfast, the usual croissants, jam and coffee, but also a generous slice of Basque tart. I'm not used to a sweet breakfast but it's still good.
With the drizzle still falling we spent most of the rest of the day in bed, reading after going through the usual clothes washing ritual. Later we ventured out for lunch to the second of the three restaurants in town. The only other patrons inside was a group of French country folk who were digging into plates loaded with meat and chips. They were a jolly lot, exchanging banter with the waitress, who also seemed to be the cook, bar tender and cashier.
We ordered, and it wasn't long before we heard our trouts sizzling in the kitchen, no doubt in a deep pan laden with butter sauce. The radio was playing Edith Piaf and the cook was singing along. The fish, no doubt born and raised in the Ossau river a few yards from the kitchen, were indeed grilled to perfection and we finished with them off with two more slices of Basque tarte.
Our requests for Café Americano was met with a mute response - nothing but espressos in the menu here. Before returning to our cosy room with a scenic view on the green valley pastures we purchased a generous slice of local cheese to take with tomorrow, as there'll be no towns before Sallent de Gallego. Don't know how we're going to stop ourselves from devouring if before then.
Yes, all's well in this corner of the French Pyrenees.