Wednesday 1st November Auroe to Ostabat
It's a meagre breakfast today - there is no Madame to provide us any delicacies and our last bit of bread has to be made to stretched to supply four hungry tummies. Luckily there is butter and jam in the fridge and enough coffee to fill the last filter paper we found to make some coffee. Washing up is done and the kitchen is put back into order.

We are finishing the French chemin not in a world of gastronomic delights that's for sure. We let ourselves out probably the earliest we have been yet at 7.30 to stride out into the morning - we lock the door behind us, hide the key under the rock again and bid our farm farewell. As we walk out the door we can see the cows following each other in a row heading off to their fresh pasture for the day. It's a cute scene.
The heater was on last night so my washing is dry- I do not have to hang from the back pack for a change. The cold start like yesterday has been replaced with another moderate day. I think I will be peeling off the jacket and the bottom part of the pants before the day is too old.
Jean Jacque leaves us as he is walking further than us- he wants to find a hotel that has food. I can understand why after that low calorie breakfast.

The mewing squawking sound in the sky makes us look upwards- above there is the swirling mass of birds retrying to get into formation- it looks like they are waiting for the friend who is always late and is still trying to find that lost shopping list. It's the geese getting ready to move south - they have sensed the chillness in the air and have decided to pack their bags and to Spain they go. We see them regularly during the day- maybe it takes them a while to gather everyone up and to organise themselves, to close up the house and empty the fridge, put out the garbage. Some one has told us that they are geese and then another has told us that they are storks- who knows but they are big birds.
We come across many of the little vans that we have seen often in the countryside parked today up the little country lanes. it's a public holiday today so obviously there are more hunters having a free day to go out again and try their luck. I hope those geese are able to fly high enough to be out of range. Yesterday as we walked through the woods we had a gunshot fired extremely close to us that really made us jump and a bit too close for comfort. You should have seen us - we employed our survival tactic of singing in our worst voices - I'm sure the hunters were not impressed with us scaring away their game but we were happy to scare away the hunters
We are on high alert afterwards and quick to note a tall ladder leaning against a wooden man made structure, covered in khaki mesh to make it totally camouflaged and with intricate cables that come down to the ground. We could hear voices so the hunters were at home high up in their sky palace. It must take them forever to climb up to the top.
This last section of the trip has not been as pleasant as other stages. I don't know whether the Basque farmers would not allow people through their territory but we are often forced onto the road. The other problem is that the day begins in little hamlets which have no shops and then we can walk all day without coming across any villages that provide a bar or places to purchase food. It makes the day too long when you don't have the distractions of a bar to recover your energy.

The guide says that the gite we are in tonight is somber. When we arrive we can definetly agree that the description is sombre. In some of these places the guide describes the gites as renovated farm houses or renovated barns. I think in this case it is just perhaps the old farm house and barn and the word renovated definitely cannot be used. We have become complacent reading about the romantic rural farmhouses as often they are beautiful and tastefully decorated and we expect this today. It is to be the complete opposite.

The door is unlocked and a piece of paper lets us know who is booked George-3 Denis-1 complet ( full) there is no one around so off we go to explore. The kitchen is downstairs with nothing in the fridge, nothing on the shelves, nothing in the cupboard, a bottle of port but no coffee or tea, things look bleak. The bathroom is also downstairs with two showers in the same room and a toilet. When I try the shower I think I see a dribble of water try to escape. After awhile it tries to pretend to be warmish at least.
Up the rickety wooden stairs to a room with four wooden beds, two small windows with shutters closed and an attempt to decorate the glass with a scrap piece of lace for each window. There is a bit of wire mesh for only half a window in another attempt to stop the flies. The light is dim and I wonder if it is actually doing anything. There is a door out to the balcony at the front of the building that is held together by a piece of string. I don't feel confident walking out there as the wood looks like it could be a few centuries old. There is a note to leave our backpacks out on this flimsy arrangement- I feel there are more chance of getting bugs here than inside.

There is another floor after the first floor that is under the eaves and wooden steps that are slanting away to I don't know where. At the first stage level on the other side of the house there is a door that opens out to a 2 foot drop to the ground- there is an attempt to stop people from falling by the special placement of a pot on the edge.
There is no heater and the doors don't seem to close. This is probably the most basic accomodation (gite) we have had for the entire trip and I am being philosophical by seeing it as the chemin' way of reminding us of the need to appreciate what we have and take nothing for granted.
Denis turns up and he is a very pleasant Frenchman from the middle of France who is just retired. He is an ex marathon runner and is powering through the miles. He realises that probably the fact that he has travelled too fast has led him to having his current shin problems- he says that it is difficult to make himself slow down. What a problem!
A farmer turns up and comes inside to grabs the only thing that gives us hope- the port and we are not sure if he is the owner or just the man tilling the ground opposite the house. He says that the pizza shop is open but on investigation there is no activity.

News flash- update on the accomodation situation- we are now in a hotel 3 kms down the road. We would have stayed at our previous basic abode but since it is a public holiday everything in town was closed and there was no opportunity to purchase any food to cook as well. Tomorrow's boulangerie will be open in the morning but there will be no bread- so with this glum news of no dinner and no breakfast with a longish final day ahead of us meant we had to think of Plan B.
The hotel down the road from us is where Jean Jacque had headed and it now beckoned us like the mirage in the desert. It was looking perfect even if we hadn't seen it. A call to the proprietor and with the right timing being on our side (after the late lunch crowd and before the dinner onslaught) he was more than happy to come and pick us up and transport us to his hotel ( he gets three more clients so it's good for him) and we get a hotel room with a shower that works and a dinner. Denis decides to stay as he has food supplies in his bag. I don't think I would want to be in that dark spooky old house on my own.

I feel like I have been transported from one side of the world to the other in just a few minutes. The dinner was delicious -fish entree, lamb main meal, and an eclair for dessert.

PS Happy new month