The transmissions ended abruptly.  Regional war history compelled us. Medieval fortifications.  A long winding road separated this temple of war from the valleys below.  Cannonfire designed to obliterate horses and men.  Murder holes evident in the architecture.  The thought slipped from the haze in the region of wine and God. 

The cool air was most invigorating.  Though our ride wasn't in an open coach, it was still quite enjoyable.  A bit of a departure from the Route du Vin proper.  The old road wound through the forests and up the shady mountainside.  Autumn is a beautiful time of year.

On the Mountain Top*

A handful of fellow travelers were milling about when we reached the summit.  Nothing particularly suspicious, yet.  So we wandered freely around the castle grounds, soaking in the strong history.  Who's gonna be stomping 'round yer ol' house in five hunnert or so years?

This place was a house and a garrison.  Several rooms were appointed to make them quite liveable - luxurious in fact.  There were also very utilitarian spaces.  Indoor courtyards for troops and horses.  Sophisticated plumbing.  Armories.  Narrow drafty hallways connecting tiny rooms with large fireplaces.