Our next day had us up and out of the house by 8 o'clock. We drove a bit to another town to catch le Train Jaune up, up, up into the Pyrenees. I, of course, forget what town we left from and which town we got off in but I do know that it was about a one and a half hour journey chugging always upwards. I lost count of the number of tunnels we went through as well. Though, judging from the number of photographs my cousin and I felt we needed to take of each other whilst in the tunnels, there were at least six. Below is a photograph of the boyfriend looking at our impending return to the light.
I bought some postcards with far better views/composition with the yellow train...but here are a few of my attempts.
We got off at small town #seven and then took a short walk to the old walled in part of small town # 7 1/2. On the way there we saw some horses and the boyfriend and I tempted them into coming to us with sugar cubes.
Then we ate at a place with a name I forget. We, I think, all had the Menu Catalan. My choices were the gazpacho (creamier than some I've had, in a good way), the traditional meatball white bean Catalonian dish (name forgotten for all time) and the Creme Catalan for dessert.
Now, if I was a pro, the spigget (spigout?) would be a good two feet away from me. Alas I am not a pro and this was as far as I would go.
Old wall.
Lizards we saw everywhere. The boyfriend tried to catch them but I don't think he ever succeeded.
Dinner that night was endrecot (spelling?), salad and our neighbors Atkins friendly mashed cauliflower.
I bought some postcards with far better views/composition with the yellow train...but here are a few of my attempts.
We got off at small town #seven and then took a short walk to the old walled in part of small town # 7 1/2. On the way there we saw some horses and the boyfriend and I tempted them into coming to us with sugar cubes.
Then we ate at a place with a name I forget. We, I think, all had the Menu Catalan. My choices were the gazpacho (creamier than some I've had, in a good way), the traditional meatball white bean Catalonian dish (name forgotten for all time) and the Creme Catalan for dessert.
Now, if I was a pro, the spigget (spigout?) would be a good two feet away from me. Alas I am not a pro and this was as far as I would go.
Old wall.
Lizards we saw everywhere. The boyfriend tried to catch them but I don't think he ever succeeded.
Dinner that night was endrecot (spelling?), salad and our neighbors Atkins friendly mashed cauliflower.
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