Seventeen.

Why does it look like two small boobs between Chanaz and Yenne. It felt more like mammoth tits. And coming down off the cliff below La Chapelle de St. Romain was manic. So I am in a Bistrot and I'm eating brawn and drinking some beautiful wine, but my fatigue has caught me up. Saved by a family way back up the hill. Picking me up she brings me back to massive bed.

And now the afternoon has gone. Obviously I required the sleep I just had. Dinner is at seven thirty. I've still an hour and three quarters to chill in this luxurious double bed.

Jean-Pierre and Josiane fed me, but I am still pretty fatigued. It's far warmer than I expected, so all my warm clothes are on my shoulders. Jean-Pierre says it's meant to snow a little next week so they're definitely necessary.

The cliff I came down at Etain, before Yenne, helter-skelter, was energy sapping so the last hour I was pretty blind to anything other than getting this weight off my shoulders, sitting down, resting and eating. Drinking a beer was imminent too. But it's done.

Rebluchon and crozeflette with lettuce leaves, two glasses for Gamay and a bowl of fruit salad for dinner. It's nine and I'm turning in for day five tomorrow.