Alpes-Maritimes - September 9, 2000

After rising early we walked downstairs and had our petit dejuner at the hotel with Madame and read what we could of the French newspaper on the gas strike. We packed up and left St-Martin on GR 52A to Berthemont-les-Bains where Bon thought we might stay. The trail started out on a road which soon became a dirt road. It was a cool morning walking on the shady side of the mountain for the first four miles or so. Then, at a little collection of buildings called le Bioulet, the trail began to go straight up the mountain. We passed six men coming down at a fast pace; the only people we passed on the trail that day. As we climbed we came to an area that had burned a few years before so we had great views back to Venanson across the valley. Then, as fast as it had gone up, the trail plunged down very steeply and the footing was uncertain on loose, dry gravel. Finally the trail leveled out and we reached Berthemont-les-Bains about 1:15 p.m. It was not the little village we expected (though there was a town further down the mountain), but only a hotel and with sulfurous and smelly baths. We decided to push on to Belvédère. After a long climb we stopped in a spot with Venanson across the valley from us. We took off our boots and socks and had a relaxing picnic. After lunch we continued on a shaded piney trail but we were both quite tired. Finally we reached the cement gullies with rushing clear water which signaled we were near the town. We passed a nice elderly couple who said, "Oh la la!" when we said that we had walked from St-Martin.

In the central square we found a large map of the town showing a hotel and a chambre d'hote (B&B). Finding the hotel closed, we walked south to locate the B&B. We found la Raisinée and a nice woman who had been playing the accordion (how's that for atmosphere) said she was "complet" or full. She began to tell us where we might stay but when she'd she learned the distance we'd come she gave us another alternative. She said that she had friends with children coming and perhaps could put the children upstairs if we would be willing to have dinner with them when they arrived. We were thrilled! She showed us to a room which was white with a colorful blue green and white wall at the head of the beds. The room looked out on the patio perched on the hillside above olive and fruit trees with an arbor of grapes above and the mountains and the valley between beyond. The pedometer said 12.83 miles, 27,450 steps and 1291 calories – I'm not sure it got all those uphill and downhill calories!

The madame, Françoise, asked if we'd like coffee and she made a pot of black French coffee which she Bon drank on the patio. (I was too thirsty for coffee and drank a pitcher of water!) She also brought a bowl of fresh figs from a tree in her little orchard below the patio. After showering and washing out our clothes, Bon and I walked up through the town which was very old and somewhat run down, but also quaint. Most of the young people had left and many elderly people remained. There was an old clock tower but a new church – the old one may have been bombed in the war. It was a clear sunny afternoon and we felt fortunate to have found such a lovely setting. We both read a little on the patio. Then, sometime after 8:00 p.m., Françoise's friends arrived: a married couple, both doctors, with two cute boys 12 and 14. We had an extended dinner on the patio with night falling and the mountains in the background. It was a dinner as only the French can do. It began with an aperitif with homemade orange wine, crackers with eggplant and hummus spreads and two types of cakes. This was followed by soup; couscous and ratatouille; a cheese course; salad and bread, and then dessert with pear sauce (like applesauce), peach crumble and little cakes! All this was served with a nice rose wine. It was a dinner filled with fun French conversation about the gas crisis, why "French" kiss (from the fourteen-year-old boy), and how America had not aided French in Algeria due to petroleum. They also talked about young French professionals going to the US to work – their elder son had moved to Silicon Valley. Our hostess was very bright and very good at managing everything with seemingly no effort. We left them to talk on the patio and went to bed about 11:30 and really slept.