Sauveterre
We have so many saints we don't know what to do with them. Like an over stuffed sofa we're very uncomfortable. Down and through up and over, down and through up and over, ad nauseum. Pasture, cows and corn for miles. Until the end. Into low land around the river. Arrived without any idea what to do. So walked around quite witless. It's a promontory so had to climb many steps. Everything is closed. There is the remnants of a Fete happening. I put my head in the church. Silence. Then I struck for the tent. Asked if anyone spoke English. Now I'm with Isobel who has the Chambre D'hotes. But now I have no money and I'm locked away in the Tour Montréal.