Perhaps the most beautiful excursion to be made from Salins is to the
little town of Nans, and the source of the River Lison, a two hours'
drive amid scenery of alternating loveliness and grandeur--vines
everywhere as we climb upwards, our road curling round the
mountain-sides, as a ribbon twisted round a sugar-loaf, and then having
wound in and out jagged peaks covered with light foliage and abrupt
slopes clad with vines, we come to the sombre pine-forests, passing from
one forest to another, the air blowing upon us with sudden keenness. No
sooner do we emerge from these gloomy precincts than we come upon the
pretty little village of Nans, smiling and glowing in a warm sunlit
valley, and most enticing to us after the sombreness and chilliness of
the mountain-tops.
Although anything but a _gourmand_ myself, I will mention for the
benefit of those who really care for good things, that we found a most
wonderful dinner awaiting us in the homely little _auberge_ at which we
alighted--hare, salmon, trout, prawns, and all kinds of local
confectionery, were here supplied at the modest price of ten francs and
a half, the cook of the establishment being the landlady herself, and
the entire staff consisting of two old women.
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