By which I mean sauntering round a new town or village, just looking!
Today I found a little village in France which is not famous or touristy, but you entered under an arch that was part of the ramparts, and the main street was lined with lovely Belle Epoch houses, very tall, with high windows, shutters, and little Juliet balconies in wrought iron. There was no shop, just a good-looking restaurant, a mairie and a post office. The church seemed small from the front, but when I got round the back I realised it was built on the very edge of a ravine, and the rear of the building plunged down about 100'. I spent a happy thirty minutes just wandering up and down.
But, of course, pootling is not real exercise, so I left the village and took a two hour round journey which included a very, very steep climb. This entitles me to a glass of wine with my dinner, and some strawberries and ice cream afterwards. It was so good to be out in the sunshine, even though there was still some snow on the higher peaks.
