Saturday Jaz, Erik, JC and I climbed to the top of the fort with Ashleigh, our Scottish guide while Gord stayed below to put together plans for this next week.



Four thousand plus steps. We climbed to Tre Denti, and then we took another kilometre of steps all the way up to the gate.



Ashleigh had keys; we walked around in the snow, through secret passageways, more steps, to the church, the barracks, the officers quarters, the kitchen, across bridges in the upper fort. We saw all the gun garretts.



Dirt floors, crumbling walls, everything in magnificent disrepair. We found an ice rink inside a cave! We heard why Napoleon didn’t destroy the fort and we want to go back to hear all the stories (Ashleigh couldn’t tell us all, even in five hours)!



Fortezza volunteers gathered for the holiday, and we met them in the piazza. Beppe his wife, Gabrielle their son, Ashleigh, Mara, Lisa, we felt among friends. Miche told us of a waffle festival in Fenestrelle, and at dark, we wandered down its one narrow main street. The townsfolk were out, and the streets were lit with lights, stars, Buone Feste stretching from one building across to another. We found a line up for gaufres (1 euro each) out of someone’s garage. Reluctantly we got back late to Meizoun Blancho for supper. After the day, it was a disappointment, although the dining room was full of locals. Peter left early to go back to bed.

Jaz & Erik went. JC to make a phone call at the booth at the top of the hill. 10 o’clock, Satuday night, after a pretty good first week of work. We bundled up for a walk, ended up at Tiu Tiu the other local restaurant in Mentoulles. No surprise, Jaz, Erik and JC were inside, totally at home with the locals, having a beer.



But then, around the corner: Beppe, Marinella and a room full of the volunteers, all finishing their supper. They seemed so glad to see us; welcomed us with hugs and kisses. At the cash register, we pored over a collection of foreign coins glued to the counter; Gord gave a Canadian quarter to the proprietor. And filled with some crazy sense of country, we decided to sing Oh Canada! at the installation of the Canadian quarter next to the cash register in this tiny restaurant in this tiny town nestled in the heart of the Alps. I must say, they were as surprised as we were. So then it was their turn. They all stood, men and women alike and sang for us, a wonderful song, the Italian national anthem! It was quite a moment.

Peter stayed in bed all day. I gave him all my remedies, vitamins and a book to read. We take him to the ospedale tonight.