At last we stirred ourselves to go into town, a town ghosted by closed shops, the heat and the call of the nearby beaches. We crossed the flag bedecked St Esprit Bridge to the area on the far side of the Adour River. A few people were out walking and riding and some were sitting in cafes, or under the trees in the square, but truly, Bayonne appeared to have been emptied.
This side of Bayonne seemed to be more run down, with repairs required for the lovely old buildings, and it had a generally less loved look. It is home to the station and the occasional heavy traffic of pick ups and put downs, but today was not the day to assess its general business.
A sign to ‘L’Autre Cinema’ gave us a laugh, since it means ‘The Other Cinema’, and was in the same vein as the sign for ‘All Other Directions’ that I have previously mentioned.
The Church of St Esprit is a humble looking building from the outside, and not clearly visible from the square. It is one visited by pilgrims, having been the site of a priory in Roman times and then being declared a Collegiate Church in the 15th Century by Louis XI. The interchange of power and influence between church and royalty over the centuries is one that intrigues me.
A man was selling programs in the porch, and when we went in for a quick look, we were amazed to find that the church was full of people. It was not a mass time and the man in the yellow shirt addressing the congregation seemed very casually dressed. By a stroke of luck, we had arrived just as a concert was beginning, so we purchased a program and joined the crowd. Soloists and musicians were joining the organist for an afternoon of classical, traditional and religious music. The group organising it was the ‘Friends of the Organs of Bayonne’, a group who raise funds and apply for grants for the restoration of organs and hold concerts for public enjoyment. It was free, with a donation if you wished. The organ of St Esprit has been restored and was incredibly loud; so loud that I thought that maybe in the time of Bach, some of his works may have been considered akin to the rock music of today and caused parents to comment that their children would all go deaf if they listened to too much of it. After I had adjusted to the volume, it was a treat to listen to the different pieces and combinations of voices and instruments in that lovely old church. A frustration came in not being able to see anything from our seats on the side, but the whole congregation was in the same position with the organ and choir stalls behind their heads. I was able to study the audience and I thought how many and varied the faces of people are, and how once you take away the judgements of conventional beauty, how very interesting and beautiful each one is. You could have put all their clothes in a pile and still have matched the faces to the clothes. A little down from us we could just glimpse the glass coffin that contains the relics of St Irene and St Priscille, with the whole body of one of them lying there, clutching a bunch of lilies.
Outside again, we walked around the streets for a while, up a hill and then around the block. Vast blocks of flats confused us with their road-like entrances. We only tasted the beautiful parklands briefly on our way back to the square, but they seemed to be extensive and well cared for. Some youths greeted us and we replied, but for the first time in France, I realised that in this park, we would have made vulnerable prey if anyone had felt inclined to try a little Sunday afternoon mugging and robbery.
Back in the residential streets we passed the two houses that are amongst the oldest in Bayonne, having survived from the end of the Middle Ages.
The hairdresser was nearly half the cost of the ones in other parts of Bayonne, but the small store that we shopped in for tea provisions was more expensive.
On our way home, and back on our side of the rivers, we noticed that the town hall and streets had been decorated and high fencing put around all the median strip flower gardens in readiness for the festival of Bayonne, which begins on Wednesday and which attracts an enormous crowd.
The bike lenders have all put their bikes away to protect them from vandalism. Advertisements against abuse of alcohol, sexual aggression, drink driving, using the rivers and streets as rubbish bins and destruction of property have been steadily increasing day by day.
Stalls selling red and white clothing, the traditional colours, have been making a killing as locals and visitors alike prepare for the four day festival. Unfortunately we will be leaving on the day it starts so we will not be able to experience it.
The Church of St Esprit is a humble looking building from the outside, and not clearly visible from the square. It is one visited by pilgrims, having been the site of a priory in Roman times and then being declared a Collegiate Church in the 15th Century by Louis XI. The interchange of power and influence between church and royalty over the centuries is one that intrigues me.
A man was selling programs in the porch, and when we went in for a quick look, we were amazed to find that the church was full of people. It was not a mass time and the man in the yellow shirt addressing the congregation seemed very casually dressed. By a stroke of luck, we had arrived just as a concert was beginning, so we purchased a program and joined the crowd. Soloists and musicians were joining the organist for an afternoon of classical, traditional and religious music. The group organising it was the ‘Friends of the Organs of Bayonne’, a group who raise funds and apply for grants for the restoration of organs and hold concerts for public enjoyment. It was free, with a donation if you wished. The organ of St Esprit has been restored and was incredibly loud; so loud that I thought that maybe in the time of Bach, some of his works may have been considered akin to the rock music of today and caused parents to comment that their children would all go deaf if they listened to too much of it. After I had adjusted to the volume, it was a treat to listen to the different pieces and combinations of voices and instruments in that lovely old church. A frustration came in not being able to see anything from our seats on the side, but the whole congregation was in the same position with the organ and choir stalls behind their heads. I was able to study the audience and I thought how many and varied the faces of people are, and how once you take away the judgements of conventional beauty, how very interesting and beautiful each one is. You could have put all their clothes in a pile and still have matched the faces to the clothes. A little down from us we could just glimpse the glass coffin that contains the relics of St Irene and St Priscille, with the whole body of one of them lying there, clutching a bunch of lilies.
Outside again, we walked around the streets for a while, up a hill and then around the block. Vast blocks of flats confused us with their road-like entrances. We only tasted the beautiful parklands briefly on our way back to the square, but they seemed to be extensive and well cared for. Some youths greeted us and we replied, but for the first time in France, I realised that in this park, we would have made vulnerable prey if anyone had felt inclined to try a little Sunday afternoon mugging and robbery.Back in the residential streets we passed the two houses that are amongst the oldest in Bayonne, having survived from the end of the Middle Ages.
The hairdresser was nearly half the cost of the ones in other parts of Bayonne, but the small store that we shopped in for tea provisions was more expensive.On our way home, and back on our side of the rivers, we noticed that the town hall and streets had been decorated and high fencing put around all the median strip flower gardens in readiness for the festival of Bayonne, which begins on Wednesday and which attracts an enormous crowd.
The bike lenders have all put their bikes away to protect them from vandalism. Advertisements against abuse of alcohol, sexual aggression, drink driving, using the rivers and streets as rubbish bins and destruction of property have been steadily increasing day by day.
Stalls selling red and white clothing, the traditional colours, have been making a killing as locals and visitors alike prepare for the four day festival. Unfortunately we will be leaving on the day it starts so we will not be able to experience it. 
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