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Published: March 26th 2018
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What to do on a rest day? Sleep in (after having first woken early out of habit), of course, followed by a trip to the grocery store to forage for comestibles. As City Hall was nearby I stopped in to enquire about the availability of wifi, and was directed to the Tourist Information Office and the library, both of which were closed for the traditional noon-2:00PM lunch break by the time I arrived (although a library employee I bumped into at the entrance told me they didn't have wifi in any case).
When I subsequently returned to the now-open tourist office, I discovered they didn't offer wifi either, but they did have a rickety old Windows XP machine available for public use so I finally got to at least check e-mail (I am always anxious to hear if my mother has finally been transferred out of the hospital and into a nursing home). That did not go smoothly either, as the machine persisted in translating things to French and also had a French (non-QWERTY) keyboard which made typing quite a challenge (it took an inordinate amount of time to figure out how to access the “@” key, for instance). Even
using the mouse to click the Reply button garnered no response at all. Eventually in Gallic fashion it all appeared to be too much for the machine, which slowly ground to a halt, and I abandoned any further notion of computing here. Bummed out, I coped as best I could by buying some chocolate.
After a brief snooze I refreshed supplies for tomorrow's breakfast and lunch, then went down to the lobby where folks were milling about i.e. drinking, having previously taken care of e-mail, postcards, etc. A group went off to eat pizza and it only became apparent later that those who remained were planning to either eat in their rooms or go to the Vietnamese restaurant I hadn't enjoyed, so I wandered off on my own to find someplace to eat.
As it turned out (for the better), the starter at the restaurant I had scouted out previously turned out to be an assiette not of crudites but of charcuterie, so I decided to find another place and wandered into the wonderful Hotel St. Vincent, and like the clueless Canadian that I am, barged in on the staff/family (it was hard to determine if there was
any difference) eating their meal. I was politely informed I should return at 7:30 and was very glad I did: the hotel was classically French (complete with 'characters' who appeared to live there), there was jazz music playing in the background, and for the ridiculously low price of 13Euros 50 I emerged a short time later completely stuffed and satisfied (and likely reeking of garlic). To be fair, the dessert was only pretty good but the entree (Salade Pecheur) and main dishes were superb. It turns out the hotel often caters to cycling groups from Montreal, and I would likely stay (and definitely eat) there next time I find myself in this part of France.
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