in the historic hotel de l’aigle in couvet with a good restaurant I felt like a change at one night and went into the neighbor village mtiers to have dinner in the old market hall with arkaden, now the restaurant six communes'. I ordered from a friendly waitress one of their summer dishes (proposals de l’t namely ris de veau (sweetbread) et chanterelles (mushrooms) fraiches l’huile de ppins de courges'. I have not seen or tasted black pumpkin seed oil, but many pumpkin seeds. the part was surprisingly great and good. then I ordered an assiette de fromage' (cheese,) which was served with a figue-pinenuts jam on an ardoise' (slate). also well, especially with the tte de moine', cut to a special wise. all this I had accompanied by a small bottle of local white chasselas wein. during dinner a medium-aged woman came in small shorts before me to sit the next table, where she began to drink and chat with friends. I shouldn't suspect she'd ruin my night a little later. since the place was quite busy, it was not always easy to keep the waitress, but finally I managed to pay after an espresso and bill with credit card. After I had filled out a special Kovid-19 form and got a happy smile from the waitress to the top, I left a last picture of the building outside before I go on to the village. suddenly the woman came to me in a short distance at full speed and screamed like a wut that I had made a photo of her and the restaurant from which she was the owner, and that I should go with her to the police station. I felt like in a wrong movie. first, the woman did not look like a patrone as she just sat like a customer on a table, in no way with the lead of the basement restaurant. I also didn't like being treated like a criminal, and went so easy on to the village, always dragging with it, pushing, pulling on my backpack and insulting me. for me the behavior did not seem very sober and definitiw not lady-like. to keep her calm, I offered her a look at my photos several times and that I only care about eating and architecture. she refused to work at the police station. When I came to the train station, she had managed to gather a few people around her who all went to me like in the west. I went to the man who seemed like the responsible, and told him that he had a look at the few photos I made in the restaurant. he found them all in order not to see customers or people. bonsoir' and they are gone. Under the train to the neighbor village couvet I thought that never something quite similar had happened to me in a life that had traveled and written in recent years over 1800 tripadvidsor reviews (always with photos). for such a treatment of their customers I will give 1 point.
