A visit to the ruins of the Haut Barr is something we do habitually really, and it's a habit we share with anyone we can when we are staying in Saverne.
The journey on foot is not arduous, but it’s enough distance and enough of a climb to work up a proper “faces are red and shirts are wringing wet” kind of sweat even through the cool of the forest, and to leave just enough tingling in various leg muscles to remind us that we’ve earned a really nice lunch in the restaurant at the top. Normally we work off all three courses on the way down, half rolling half jogging back to the port, but this time the circling thunderstorms were just a little too ominous, and we descended more rapidly than usual with the assistance of a friendly taxi driver.
He was delighted to be transporting a car load of Australians, and spent the whole five kilometre journey regaling us with tales of the feats of Alain Mimoun, the French winner of the 1956 Melbourne Olympic marathon, intent no doubt on leaving us enthused enough to begin training for that event. As it turned out, had we not availed ourselves of his service we may well have ended up in training for an Olympic swimming marathon, such was the weight of rain and hail that began to fall soon after our return.
It didn’t take much discussion at all to contrive a unanimous plan that the rest of the day should be spent lolling around with book in hand, checking occasionally to ensure that “our” Chateau was still above water.
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