Day 7. Sunday 14^th May 2017.

Breakfast was a leisurely affair. The sun was out in a clear blue sky and we all anticipated a great day ahead. Things looked great until someone burst in the door and asked who was driving the English registered car. It seems it had had its wing mirrors snapped off as well as the car parked behind it. Tim and I rushed out the door. Sure enough there was Tim’s Jag with the mirrors hanging limply down, my Toyota parked immediately behind had the passenger offside mirror snapped. We first thought it was an Anglophile attack but why mine? It was a hire car on French plates.

Then the Casino store manager came across and explained his son’s car had also had a mirror smashed and he had called the Gendarmes. Within twenty minutes a couple of Gendarmes pulled up and were all business like. Taking pictures and noting down details of registrations. They suggested we meet them in the Gendarmerie at the top of town in twenty minutes as they had another vandalised car report by the church to check out. As we had already loaded our bergans into the car and bought todays quiche we all agreed we might as well drive to the nick now and await them.

Arriving a few moments after us the young female in charge escorted Jackie, Suzie, Tim and I in and within 30 minutes or so we had completed all documentation and had our crime report for the Car Hire company.

It is at times like these that one is glad one took out the all-inclusive insurance for 15E a day. At 62.50E it was a bargain. It would have cost more than that to replace the wing mirror.

Off to the village of Laschamps for 1130hrs where we park the cars beside the church.

Booted we cross the road uphill onto part of GR4 / GR441 and follow the tracks SSW gradually climbing uphill through some deciduous but mainly coniferous forest. Lumber operations were, during the working week, obviously in full flow. Timber was cut trimmed and stacked everywhere. Huge rutted tracks ran in all directions. Being Sunday there were couples and families out strolling. There were also plenty of mountain bikers out. As in England far too many of these had no bell!

We reached a small saddle between the Puy Pelat and the Puy du Mercoeur. Continuing onwards and downhill we passed the Puy de Monteillet on our right before reaching a cross track where we swung left and began our approach up to our lunch stop at the Puy de Lassolas.

This was a bit of a climb and had us breathing hard. At the top we enjoyed fantastic views to the South where away in the distance we could see some snow still on the tops of various features.

On the steep climb up to Puy de Lassolas.

Nearly at the top but not quite!

We brewed up and ate our quiche. The next objective was to lose 300 feet cross a small stream and climb another 300 feet before descending to pick up the path in the valley floor. It was here that we saw one of the earlier morning walkers recrossing our path. When Suzie queried him about what he was training for he suggested something like “Training be beggared, I’ve lost my cars keys somewhere on route and need to find ‘em”. Good luck with that. From here it was pretty much level walking between pastures back to the parked cars.

Lunch stop on Puy Lassolas.

Finish walking at 1530hrs. then a short walk up the road for a few panaches then back to the hotel for a shower. We agreed to meet at the car, parked now directly in front of the hotel at 1900hrs. dining tonight at an auberge. The hotel was closed to diners on a Sunday evening.

At the Auberge  Mazaye Basse for dinner at 1900hrs. The short fifteen minute drive brought us to what was once a stable block but now very tastefully converted. There were numerous tables inside but very few diners. It might well be that we are still early in the season. On parking the cars someone notice quite a few rabbits in cages. Were they pets or were they being bred for the pot? The menu will give us a better clue.

The cuisine is terraine “of the land” and so is simple fair. It is all well cooked and presented, the staff of two ladies efficient, if not somewhat distant. Various menu options are available from a la carte to the set menus. The wine list is as heavy as your family bible. Mike opts for the slightly more expensive menu with the standard soup starter followed by Foie Gras, which was delicious. Far better than the Foie Gras I had in Limoges on a previous visit. I am told that the quality can vary widely. Dependant on the base product and the way the chef has prepared it. These were roulades, cold, dressed with sea salt crystals. Accompanying this is a small side salad and some chutney and toast.  This was followed with a duck and mash dish in which I was slighty disappointed as it hurt my eyes looking for the duck. The creamed potato topping was smothered in cheese. When originally, I ordered my main I thought it would have been duck breast smothered in cheese. The cheese board followed for all but only “Fat Mike” could face it. I didn’t need it but the three cheese’s I chose were delicious. My gourmand dessert followed with five different sweets. Nothing spectacular. Tim and Jackie had chosen from their menu an Ile de something or other which was some sort of huge fresh meringue floating in a sea of custard. We had all eaten far more than we needed. It seems that we were privileged to eat here this evening as the Auberge was only catering for its residents. Madame at La Hotel de Poste had obviously put in a good word for us. The whole experience was very pleasant and relaxed.

Returning to Pontgibaud we parked directly opposite the hotel and then decided we would have a nightcap in a local bar. Which one?? There was no choice. The only bar open in town was La Chasse. We were pretty much regulars here. We were warmly greeted by the young chef patron. Offered his best table in the centre of the room, a table which had only been delivered at the start of the week. We ordered drinks and before long, he started switching down the lights, on went the coloured flashing disco lights and the large TV on the wall started playing music videos starring young ladies with little or no clothes on gyrating on poles and pouting rather provocatively. Peter who was sat opposite the screen was mesmerised. We had no conversation from him till it was time to leave. A few young chaps came into the bar and at times it was quite raucous but when we came to leave all of the guys wished us “bon nuit”. On exiting Jackie question if it may have been one of those that had smashed the various wing mirrors in the square? How could she think such a thing?