Our adventures today embraced less of the historical and more of the physical (and natural). We are in Luchon, a pretty French town in the Pyranees, and we took a walk up a nearby hill to nearby villages. On a clear day, the view would be spectacular -- it wasn't too shabby on a rainy, misty day either. The snow-capped peaks in the distance drifted behind some cloud, but the villages nestled in the broad valley below were still picturesque.
In any case, as they say, it's all about the journey, rather than the destination, and the walk today was beautiful. We trekked up and around the hill, often through autumnal beech and oak woodland in vivid oranges and yellows, for approx 3 hours, and I was pleased with the remnants of my Trailwalker fitness. I didn't struggle in the least, and thoroughly enjoyed the walk. (It still seems surreal to me to actually enjoy walking up up up.) Unfortunately our planned 'picnic' took place in the pouring rain, huddled beneath a scant shelter in one of the villages, and we didn't linger. The downward journey was along the road, so not as pretty, but we did see a couple of deer in the forrest and a black squirrel.