French baby the center of attention

Our Navi went a bit loopy today.  It said it would be 4 hours to Grenoble, but once we were underway this changed to 6 hours. Hmm. Which was right?  It used to be so much simpler with maps.  You just took your chances with traffic, and took back roads around the worst jams. We decided to trust the Navi and head towards the south directly, forsaking the Alps.  And so we found ourselves in Pérouges, an amazing, tiny hilltop village, a Mediaeval movie set, with cobblestoned streets that were so authentic they hurt our sandaled feet.  We left the car outside the ramparts and went on foot to find out if there were a hotel to stay the night. To our surprise, our nous cherchons une chambre pour quatre personne actually got us a nod of affirmation.

We had dinner in an old OLD high ceilinged room with faded wood beams under our feet and knights’ armor displayed on the wall.  By 8:30pm, the restaurant had filled up, We were entertained by a blond baby boy who crawled all around between the tables, throwing his toys under customers’ feet.  At each table was at least one woman who played with him, hiding his toy, throwing it down somewhere else, talking to him.  The floor was dusty, the food was excellent, the waiter attentive, and never once did the baby get stepped on or chastised.  My impression: how baby-friendly French people are.

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