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Malta- ITALIA
Izeron, Grenoble
First stop outside the Italian border! At last we leave the beloved homeland; somewhat dishevelled and rumpled, shirts and whatnot hanging out all over the place, but we’re in high spirits.
We’re sure we have left something behind or left the iron on or something, in fact I realised straight away that we didn’t take a spare AC/DC inverter…on the other hand, we have probably taken more things than we actually need and have probably left the one thing (that we haven’t remembered yet!) that we will need most of all.
We’ve left without booking a place to spend the night – this was a conscious decision as we knew, that as we would be just across the Alps and in France, we could rely with some reliability upon travellers luck. We decided not to head to the coast just yet and opted for the secluded hazy mountain landscape below Grenoble; a little more out-of-the-way and more private than the coast. After considering the freezing temperature, we were reluctant to open the tent and therefore opted for the cowards’ option of a further night in comfort. We finally stop in a small village by a path that leads to “Le Gorges de Nam” hotel. The faded sign of the hotel has definitely seen better days and had at some point been illuminated. I walk around the building, it is quite dark and my first thoughts are, that it is closed, I then notice a dim light emanating from one of the windows and knock lightly. A woman appears and confirms my mounting doubts that this is no longer a hotel and, suggests that I may fancy my chances further on. So far, travellers luck seems to be eluding us. Moving on, we eventually find ourselves outside a dimly lit rickety old building. A sign hangs creaking above its entrance and this one too has seen better days, it probably looked the business back in the 60’s., on the sign is written “Hotel des Voyageurs”. Its door stood invitingly open. Inside, we find a handful of locals and on first impressions they seem a rather rough lot. They were all busy chatting around the bar, which was manned by a rather stout, portly gentleman with a moustache to match. The place was full of character and had an authentic atmosphere. It reminded me of Benni and his “Bar Sport”. We try not to be too conspicuous, and avoid as best we can any daft questions, oh, and we try very hard not to initiate eye contact with the somewhat bountiful and lavish landlady. We end-up sharing the only table in the so-called “Restaurant” with a travelling salesman, who proceeds to advise us on what we should and shouldn’t order. Against all expectations and better judgement we heed his advise and enjoy a divine local dish. He later confides to us that the dish we had eaten is Jacques Chirac’s favourite!
The exquisite dish of a saucy veal head and legumes reminded me of the steaming boiled bones served at “Erme’s” in Modena. We were then served home-made ravioli with herbs, and a delightful red wine served in the kind of small emery decorated glasses that grandmothers keep in old cupboards.
Small French villages never let you down.
Oh we do like to be beside the seaside!
Today is a particularly blustery day and we are heading south towards the sea beyond Carmague. We don’t want to get to Spain just yet, because we still want to enjoy the colourful and autumnal France.
Searching for a good restaurant in this area proves to be difficult, as during this period, restaurants and eating houses, along with campsites close for the winter season. The Chambre d’Hotels are open but are quite expensive. Here it seems, that during the autumn, the entire service industry takes up residence in the land of Nod! Luckily, we’re blessed with good fortune at Torreilles, as we find a local chef, who even in the face of a customer deficiency, defiantly resists the somnolent call of autumn. His doors are still open for business and he cooks for us a delicious candied foie gras with fig sauce, the memory of which, will linger for a long while.
We are then faced with the prospect of our first night’s sleep in ‘Landy’. The blustery day is now a cold and very windy night, too windy to open the roof tent, so we are forced to seek refuge inside the vehicle. We feel safe and snug as well as secure, thanks to the bolts and locks that our trusted Daniele has fitted for us. Despite being a tad too hard, we are feeling so dog-tired and thoroughly done in, that we manage with relative ease to get a good night’s sleep…