A Day in the Clouds

Rain all day, and the breakfast waiter pressed his finger to his lips this morning and said, yes, it will rain for another three days, but hush, say nothing.  And we didn't, just laughed and walked out of the village, found our car, and went on our merry way.  Up the road to a ville plus charmant with a church to die for (literally - the graveyard around it was gorgeous) and then up through all the villages of the Val D'Argent, including St. Marie de Mines, a lovely name for a mining region that began in the 10th century and reached a pinnacle of production in the 16th, and led to the revolte du Canut in the 19th.  (Nothing like a little social upheaval, complete with vast differences in wealth and growing inequality in access to capital to piss people off.). Fascinating tour of a textile museum there too, no really - fascinating - and then a climb to the Haut Koenigsbourg for a long tour of the castle.  Once out of Hunawihr, the village plus charmant, we spent the entire day driving winding mountain roads in impenetrable fog, and either intermittent or spitting rain.  So no long views of valleys below or mountain passes in the distance, and instead glimpses of the next hillside thrown into relief by the depth of the clouds parting among the forest.  It made the walk through the castle - the keep, the grand bastion, the salle d'armes and kitchens - even more of a tour of imagination that it might have been otherwise.  La forêt mysterieuse, the shadows of nooks and crannies, peering out of the cannon keyholes to the misty depths of greenery below, armor and lances, tapestries and stuffed heads on the wall.  Very effective for being transported to another time and place.
Oddly, we went from there to an Ikea-like grocery store in the largest village in the area, where we found everything we could possibly want for lunches and breakfasts over the next few days. Impossibly cheap and fabulous cheeses, croissants and pain au chocolat, fruit, smoked fish, yogurt, ham and yes, bottles of wine.  This left us drooling with hunger and thirst - alas! - and forced to find an appropriate dinner venue.  Complete with local Pinot noir, chilled, light, and just this side of rosé, and lamb ribs, Dijon chicken, and salads.  Fortunately Riquewihr was only a few short kilometers from dinner, and we managed to lurch out of our car park and up through the village walls to our gîte.  The groceries are now put away, we've watched the SNL/Alec Baldwin French lesson skit ("il est HUIT heures!"), the underwear load of laundry is in "lavage" mode, and the half ten bells just rang.  Since we all slept until just after ten this morning, we're thinking it might be wise to set an alarm for tomorrow morning.  Perhaps 9:00?  Nothing radical, but probably a good idea to get on with the day before noon for a change. Or not - we'll see!