Last night we stayed at a Gite/Chambre, not really in a village, but a beautiful property. As usual everyone at dinner was French, so to include us the conversation was in French, Spanish and English, sounds impossible but it worked. One of the Frenchmen commented how difficult it is to go to a country that uses a different language, and that many of the French would not travel to other countries for that reason. That explains why many of the French end their Pilgrimage at the Spanish border. Monica and I never consider it, there may be a bit of frustration, but we seem to communicate for all our needs wherever we are.
The one French couple passed us on the trail earlier in the day, but we ended up together at dinner. The husband was 52,and an engineer for Air Bus. He was surprised when he told us that he worked for Boeings main competitor. We immediately said Air Bus. They live in Toulouse, and several years ago, went out their door with their packs, put the key under the mat, and walked to Santiago de Compostela. One of his hobbies is sail planing, but he is passionate about the Caminos to Santiago,and they plan to do the northern route next.
This morning was more farmland although we did pass a small vineyard, and flush pheasant from one field, on our way to (pardon the expression) Condom, France. The cathedral here is another marvel of rock stacking. We got here early, so had a very nice lunch. A large salad of lettuce, tomato, and duck gizzards, Monica had duck confit and I pushed the envelope with a beef tartare. I ordered a bottle of Rose, and ask if it was local, the waitress said the vineyard was only 3 kilometers away. Yes, less than two miles, that is local.
Here as all of Franne local wines are featured, but this is the Armagnac region, so meals end with Brandy, Armagnac of course.