After breakfast we take a 3km walk down the road to a campground that's the only place near town with laundry machines and do some proper laundry. mmmm, clean clothes. Somehow we both manage to get a bit of sunburn while waiting for the laundry. Duh.
We get back in time for lunch, a nap, and some shopping to stock up for the next leg of the trip. We stop at a place selling mountain cheese and ask the guy for a hard cheese. After a bit of back and forth caused by our lack of French cheese vocabulary, the guy says "Oui" and then disappears into the cave (!) in the back of his shop. He comes back with a dried up old piece of goat cheese that we sampled and both liked. He wouldn't cut the piece for us, claiming it was too hard, so we ended up with 500g. Later on Greg had buyer's remorse and didn't want to carry the full 500g, so he cut off half and left the rest in the hotel trash can. The cheese is too sharp to eat on its own, but it ends up working quite well as an addition to dinners.
Gavarnie is horribly touristy and neither of us were particularly impressed by it. A conversation snippet from the day that kind of summarizes the general feeling:
Greg: "This town smells like horse shit."
Andrea: "Well, we never have to come here again."
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