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Our first objective was to ‘find’ Anne-Marie’s mother and aunt, who had spent the night at Notre Dame du Laus, a place of religious pilgrimage, where people come to pray and to find anew their place with God and in the world. In 1664, a sixteen year old illiterate shepherdess called Benoite Rencurel started to see apparitions of the Virgin Mary. They continued until her death in 1718. During that time, Benoite was asked to go and find the little chapel at Laus, where Mary would come to her again. She would know that it was the right chapel by the perfumed smell there. Benoite was unable to read or write, with her only education having been in religion, and she spent her long days with the sheep, reciting her rosary. She had been sent off to work as a shepherdess for another family at a young age. She followed the instructions and at the little chapel, Mary told her to build a church on the same site, where sinners could come, confess and repent, and where others could be converted. The church was to be dedicated to Jesus and Mary. On top of this Mary asked that lodgings for the sinners and pilgrims be built. Just imagine it – a young girl with a task like that, no connections and no family support. Luckily it was in the times when her apparitions were accepted without question and, once the news was out, the pilgrims began to pour in and others provided money and labour for the church and lodgings. Mary asked for the efforts at Laus to continue ‘until the end of time,’ and so today there is a dedicated clerical and other staff who carry on the work. Benoite was to see a series of apparitions, mostly of Mary but also of the crucifixion and angels, and, although famous, she continued to lead a simple life, giving away most of the food she was paid with as a shepherdess and being highly regarded by everyone as a most pious and saintly woman.
As we wound up the mountain to the church, we passed fourteen crosses, which were the Stations of the Cross, and finally we came to our destination. The church is set on a plateau overlooking a natural amphitheatre, with mountains all around. Not seeing the ladies, we went in to have lunch in the restaurant attached to the religious complex. It is most efficiently run by very cheerful and friendly staff, with a set menu and times. It also has the best chips ever, with the potatoes cut into waffle-like small pieces. Lydie (Anne-Marie’s mother), and Elise (Anne-Marie’s aunt), found us and after a little chat they went outside to wait for us to finish. They are sweet ladies in their eighties, who both still live alone in villages in the
The church has large paintings of the sequence in which the apparitions came to Benoite, but I only stayed for a few moments, since Mass was in progress when we entered. Two priests were officiating for a small congregation. The Mass of the night before had drawn four hundred people, with seats for the overflow being set up in the courtyard outside. The altar and front of the church was well lit, while the entry and back section were darker. I am sure that this would be to protect the paintings but it had the effect of drawing people in towards the light. The little chapel at the back, where Benoite first saw Mary at this site, has an ante-chamber with a statue of St Antoine, and then a main room from which you can view the statue of the Virgin. She is about three quarter size, is richly dressed and wears a crown. Her face is delicate and like a china doll. She has a very gentle expression and it is easy to imagine Benoit kneeling here and talking with Mary, listening lovingly and carefully and feeling perhaps a little overwhelmed by the task ahead of her.
Yves stopped the car for me to take a photo of one of the Stations of the Cross, and Keith pointed out some men playing pétanque (the French version of bocce). I climbed up to them to ask if I could take a photo, and they invited me to play. Unfortunately that would have left five others sitting in the car wondering what had happened to me, so I just had a short chat. It was wonderful to be able to speak well enough to talk to people outside the understanding and helpful Primat family, and I was really happy when they complimented me on my French. By then Yves was looking my way and tooting the horn, so I took my photo and scrambled back down to the car.
I know that I always rave about the scenery, but really the places we drove through were so rugged and shrouded in mist that it seemed as though we were in a painting of the birth of the world. At last we arrived at Valbonnais, the village where Anne-Marie grew up and where her mother still lives, but we drove through and continued on to the next village, Les Engelas, home to Aunt Elise.
Elise lives in a farmhouse built in 1721, with walls of one metre thickness to provide for protection against the weather. She ran off to find the key, and unlocked for us to enter her spacious kitchen. This room is big enough for many people to gather around the table. While we were having marble cake and drinks, a nephew and his wife arrived, which made us a sizeable group, but still small for the room. They had brought photos of a family get together, so we were able to see most of the descendents of the two sisters. It was exciting for me to drink from glasses kept in a built-in cupboard that had been constantly in use for kitchen items for 287 years.
Next stop was Lydie’s home in Valbonnais, a beautiful old farm house dating, according to the inscription on the fountain, from 1832. It is an interesting building because it comprises a two story home with a section at one end which has barn at the top and a room for animals below. Once a herd of about fifteen cows had been kept here but now it is used for storage, since Lydie has retired from the farming life. At the other end of the building there is an open section where Lydie has a stack of wood that anyone would be proud of, and above that, and connected to the house, is another section, which would once have been used for storage for the farm. The ceilings in the house are vaulted, something we have not seen in a house before, and there are buttresses against the exterior walls. Inside there are two rooms downstairs – a very cosy and welcoming kitchen and a more formal dining room/lounge room - with a marvellous staircase leading up to the many bedrooms above. We slept in a pretty room with pink floral wall paper and blue curtains, which was Anne-Marie’s childhood room. I asked Lydie if she had been born here but no; she had grown up in Les Engelas and moved here upon her marriage. Anne-Marie said that in those days, it was the regular thing to marry within the village, or the next village. There must only be about three kilometres between the villages and even in Anne-Marie’s childhood, with no TV or internet as distractions, walks and visits were the main entertainments for everyone. The next day, from our vantage point high up on the mountain, we were to see six little villages, quite close together, all nestled in this picturesque bowl of a valley surrounded on all sides by mountains.
Yves led us on a walk down a shady lane with walnut trees promising a good harvest. After a quick glance through the gates of the cemetery, and a mental note that I should try to come back and visit, we strode speedily down the hill to the artificial lake that is fed by the mountain stream. Families had made their vacation homes at the treed caravan and camping ground beside, but fenced off from, the lake. A café with outdoor chairs faces the water, which feels delightfully cool but in no way too cold for swimming. What a pity I had left my bathers in Quirieu!
On our way back up the hill, we met Anne-Marie, who talked to Yves about calling in to visit another Aunt, Madame Simone. Back at the house, we went in and I asked Anne-Marie where Yves was going. She said that we were going too, and that we were going now, to visit Aunt Simone. This is an example of being able to speak another language to some degree but not perfectly. Neither of us had any idea that we were also going somewhere, despite the topic being discussed in our presence. This is what life must be like for children a lot of the time.
To get there, we walked out through the back of Lydie’s yard and into a tiny cobbled lane between back gardens. Only a matter of metres along, we had arrived at the back gate of a house with an amazing vegetable and flower garden running up each side of its path to the back door. This was the home of Simone (Anne-Marie’s father’s sister) and Roger, who had prepared drinks and nibbles to share with us and their daughter, Laurence, and son-in-law, Christian. The house and garden reminded me of my Auntie Grace’s home when I visited as a child, where care, conservation and constant use of tools, furniture, crockery and such, had given ordinary items a dignity that can never be achieved in a place where the people have ‘throw away’ values. Everyone was very welcoming and they all knew Joel, with the general opinion being that he looks like Keith. I asked about the garden and it turned out that Roger was the green thumb genius who had created it. When we left, he came out with us while we looked over the plants more closely. The photo that I took of him at his gate is one of my all-time favourites.
Meanwhile Lydie had been busy cooking. Every meal we had with her was delicious and beautifully presented. Later, when we were talking with Annelise about our visit, she asked us what we thought of her grandmother’s cooking, because she knows that it is so good and an important part of visits to Valnonnais. After tea Keith showed some photos of our home and family, photos taken today and at Quirieu, using the computer screen. It was a low-key but sharing end to a very full day.
One of the many mountain lakes we passed on the way to Valbonnais.
The village oven in Les Engelas
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