Le Belle Italiani 17 August

The original purpose of my journey has been achieved.

 Yesterday I climbed half-way to the Refuge des Merveilles and discovered I had dropped something of great significance on the path. I asked if I could leave my heavy rucksack at a tiny, rustic cottage where lively group of Italians were laying out table cloths and chopping wood.

 Fortunately my lost object was only a few meters down the path as I wasn't enchanted by the idea of retracing so many of my hard earned steps.

 

The Italians, so pleased with my success, invited me for coffee, pastis, then bruschetta made with organically grown tomatoes and olive oil from Silvio's garden, wine, chunks of Parmesan, more coffee and Danish biscuits. I was shown photos of Silvio with his prize trout, invited to draw pictures for the guest book and told I must borrow the key to stay whenever I liked.

After a couple hours of convoluted tales of love and life conveyed in a kind of Anglo-Franco-Italian charades, we climbed  another 1 1/2 hours to the Refuge where we exchanged addresses, kisses and heart shaped stones.