And we're walking, we're walking...

We've found the perfect yin and yang in Europe: Food and walking.
Our house-sit in England is about a mile from the town of Reigate, where we often walk for groceries, just to walk -- and for breakfast or lunch or dinner. Only one meal a day and not every day. (The British pound is almost half as much again as the dollar.)
We walk everywhere after having decided not to get a car from the rent-a-ripoff place where we had reserved one. No car, no problem.

Waffles topped with sliced truffles and chantilly.

Today, we walked to a newly discovered (for us) coffee shop chain in Reigate called Monty Bojangles Truffle Bar & Coffee Lounge. We had tea there the other day and decided to come back for its truffle-chocolate-coffee drink. I'm sure it had as many calories as the name implies. After a walk through Priory Park we decided to return to Monty for its waffles with truffles and whipped cream breakfast. Again, it was "don't ask, don't tell" as far as calories. On the way home, Paulita's Fitbit had calculated we walked 3.8 miles.
Then it was time to walk the dogs. We took Spud and Minnow for a 50-minute walk up the hill into the woods and back. As we neared home, the Fitbit had tallied almost 6 miles.

Our daily path.

OK, so it wasn't a a 6-mile jog, but surely it burned some fat, right?
All I know is that since we arrived in France and adopted its eating culture, we feel healthier. The food is fresh and you walk everywhere. Hankering for a croissant? You'll probably burn off the calories beforehand walking to get it. The food in France is rich, but the portions are less than in America. Less sugar is used but the French do love their butter. And meals are leisurely, at least an hour or more. Then we would walk around the town and back to our apartment. Today, we had a late lunch of turkey sandwiches. Two meals a day often does it for us.
In England, the portions are a bit larger and the food heavier, but again you walk.
Back home in Columbus, I walked a lot and rarely drove, instead taking the bus.  I was working, and with work comes stress. I ate when I was stressed and often ate after coming home late from work. Since I retired in December, and we sold our house and most of our belongings, my stress level has dropped to Barely Perceptible.

Mountains surround Quillan, France.

We'll continue to be without a car until perhaps May, when we move into a rented house in Quillan, an out-of-the way village in southwestern France where most days include a hike up a mountain in the foothills of the Pyrenees.
Or maybe the 1-euro bus that connects Quillan with larger cities and their train lines and airports will be enough as we visit other countries in Europe and beyond. When we get where we're going, we'll just hoof it.