Diet program, Hostel, Market day

Dear friends and family,

Charley’s slow weight loss method seems to be working. The routine is pretty simple: sleep well, eat croissants, baguettes, cheese, lunch meats followed by pastries all day. Perform a few strength and core exercises and watch the pounds fall off. Oh, did I forget to mention to pedal your heavily laden  bike five hours per day?

In La Reole I booked a hostel both to change things up and because we are finding many lodgings closed for the season. We approached the town in the dark, glad we had bright bike lights. Not the plan, but our navigation technology kept directing us into farmer’s fields and to ride through the muddy paths to stay off roads. Thinking it not a good idea we spent some time retracing routes for better routes. We don’t need paved roads, but at least better than a route through the dairy barn and corn fields.

Once in town Google for bicycles directed us up a steep stairs, which we declined and rerouted. The full moon was blocked by the tall buildings and narrow alleys and we finally reached the site and sign of Amañi Hostel. All was very dark when we knocked. It took a few minutes before Julien, the proprietor, opened the door for us to park our rides inside and ascend the staircase that originally joined the two buildings from the twelfth century, one of them being the oldest structure in the town. 

Julien bought this place four years ago, renovated it to modernity, and opened it as a seventeen bed hostel two years ago. He said it hadn’t been renovated since the seventies and I had to think whether he meant the 1970’s or possibly the 1670’s!

He let us know he was also a trained chef and we could dine there this evening as well. Once he opened the kitchen door and we smelled the beef bourguignon that he said was cooking since ten AM, the decision was easy.

Julien worked in the accommodation industry for several years before going to school to study formally, taking in lodging and cooking. He mentioned that at the age of 30, he was one of the older students.

It seemed to “take” as the accommodation was wonderful and the dinner out of this world. Easily the best meal of the trip so far.

At breakfast the next day we met three guys from Georgia ( not the US state) who were traveling around France working illegally for cash wages. One of them spoke pretty good English and failed to see the irony of letting us know that the election in the US would be good to clear out all those illegal immigrants taking jobs from citizens. He felt comfortable in sharing his work plan with us, which surprised me. He also explained that they could earn about 90 Euros for a day laboring here, versus the 400 Euros ( converted) for a month working in Georgia. They were careful with the Shengen tourist visa they traveled on of 90 days out of 180 days, but open about the illegal cash work.

He was curious as to what a US social security amount might be at age 65, and I explained that it depended on how much you paid into the system. He said it was similar in Georgia in that it depended on your earnings, but quite low.

Meeting Julien I remembered that I once tried that industry myself by applying to enroll at the Cornell School of Hotel Administration for my college choice. My father took me to Ithaca, in upstate New York, to tour the campus and check out the school. Surprising to me, I had an interview with the application director.

He asked me ” Why would you want to attend our school?”

And because of my extensive preparation I replied ” I’ve traveled a lot throughout the world, staying in hotels and I thought it would be interesting to be involved in managing”.

In those days there was no such think as a college counselor to help with preparation.

Well, I guess my “interview” answer wasn’t adequate because they no longer had interest in my gracing their program. 

On our way out of town the next morning, we came across a young man carrying food so asked where there might be a market to get our lunch supplies. He pointed through the arch and then turn left for the market. Wow, what a market it was! Saturday AM and everybody in town and out of town seemed to converge on this huge parking lot filled with food trucks and open trailers offering prepared foods from adjoining countries and anything else that one could want to eat or decorate with. We waded into the crowd with our laden bikes. Between the tiny dogs on long leashes, the kids on no leashes and the strollers and shoppers with their rolling market baskets we pursued our lunch. Liz went for cheese, enjoying a conversation with a young man who set up a sampling of his best varieties for her. I found the baguettes and I’m sure they thought I was a local when I ordered a couple of “chocolatines” for dessert. In other parts of France these are called brioche au chocolate, but here the language evolved from when the English tourists ordered those things with “chocolate in” to be re-Frenched into the local name “chocolatine”.

Armed with our lunch treats, we went for our route that started along the Canal du Garonne, which meanders near the Garonne river. The navigation is less challenging now: follow the Canal on the side bike path. Period.

The last three cycling days we expected short easy rides, but each day some diversion makes for a longer and more challenging day. Yesterday we found the canal path closed due to a bridge out and our detour added many more miles, but also showed us more old tiny towns. 

In these country towns there are several buildings shuttered and for sale. The towns still seem alive and vibrant, but my research showed that the youth is abandoning small towns for more opportunities and fun in bigger cities. The government is responding with incentives for investment in these little towns to keep them alive. It will be interesting to see how it works.

Sending love,

Charley