It was after lunch when we set off for a visit to the cloisters and the botanical gardens. I had refused to leave our room until I had typed up our visit to the Basque Museum, although not to eat and drink so Keith brought me up a lovely breakfast. One of the most valuable aspects of writing the blog is that I look back on it and think about everything that we have done, not so long after having done it. I think that it would be difficult to process so many experiences and that many of them would just slip away, if we didn’t take this time for reflection.
We took the chance to peep into the old castle grounds as we passed them. Built in the 11th Century and incorporating three Roman towers, it was named the ‘Old Castle’ in the 15th Century when the ‘New Castle’ was built. A fortified forecourt was added in the 17th Century. It has always been used by military authorities and is still used by the army, with numerous emblems representing the different regiments attached to the walls. On many occasions we have heard lots of planes and helicopters overhead, and have been told that the army parachutists practise nearby. Today we could hear rousing cheers and banter from a mess room somewhere in the castle’s interior. It was most atmospheric, with all the rooms having code letters on them and an ancient building, like a watch house, in the middle of the courtyard having code letters on each side; totally baffling and very military to me.
On the way to the cloisters we passed the fountain that now stands where the pillory once was. It seems so strange that a pillory would be so close to the cathedral and, once again, a hundred questions of who was in it, what were they being punished for and so on caused us to stop and wonder. Did people pause on their way to mass to throw some rotten vegetables at their neighbours who had done the wrong thing? Next year we are hoping to have the time to do some follow up research for all the things that we don’t know enough about.
The Cloisters adjoin the Cathedral, whose wall makes one side. They are very big, with wide arcades around the other three sides. Built in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, they have tombs with statues in them, as well as gravestones on the floor. There is something very touching about the eroded carvings, creating a great sense of continuity and of the passing of time. These cloisters were used in a very secular way as a place for the city council to meet and for merchants and other businesses to operate. There is a fabulous green lawn in the centre, which looked very inviting for games as well. Some buildings in the neighbouring streets are higher than the cloisters and create an interesting skyline of gracious ancient arches, which appear to be being talked about by other buildings of more recent times and less dignity. There were also some beautiful views of the Cathedral and the chance to see flying buttresses quite clearly. 
Our last treat for the day was to visit the Botanical Garden of Bayonne. Set in parkland just outside the city walls, it is obviously a great work of love, devotion and knowledge. We climbed up the ramp to a beautiful Japanese garden, where water and varying heights of the land have created a stunning effect on a very small site. The paths wind through garden beds, under and over bridges and through a bamboo forest. Each direction we looked in was like a framed painting in terms of the careful selection of complementing forms, foliages and colours. The plants were named, so it was not just a visual and olfactory feast, but a wonderful place for research or simply to find ideas for home gardening. A cycas revoluta was flowering, with its centre looking like lots of tiny fawn kid gloves joined together. Also known as sago palm, it is not related to palms but is a member of an ancient family of cycads that has survived since the days of the dinosaurs. The fattest fish I have ever seen lolled about in an ornamental pond, while a live tortoise posed on a rock, and except for the movement of its eyes, it could have been a statue. There is obviously no predator problem here. The garden is locked at night, for lunch and on some days. A family of four young children raced joyously around the paths, through the forest and over the bridges while the grandmother placated the baby who was too young to join them. 
We strolled home past the ex-moat, and as usual I wished that I had grown up in an environment as rich as this in bringing the past into the present. The area outside the walls was subject to military regulation for protection of the town, but when the army left this area in 1909, there was rapid and unplanned private development of what had been farmlands. Eventually it came under the supervision of councils and private roads became public ones. Many of the very lovely large villas date from the 1920s and 30s, and are in excellent condition today. The Law Courts near where we are staying are in a modern building, with a restaurant nearby being very handy for those peckish moments between cases. We have often noted the very long names that French streets can have and this area was no exception. Imagine a child trying to write an address for a street like ‘Avenue Sous Lieutenant Iribarne’. 
Since it was Thursday, we were able to go into town to the Kiosk (band rotunda) to hear another concert by the local orchestral group, ‘L’Harmonie’. We were a little late but still in time to see the last of the traditional Basque dancing, which included one with swords, before the orchestra began. I was pleased to be able to follow the conductor’s introductions this week. At the end of the concert he said that there was a renowned singer in the audience and he tried to encourage him to come up on stage. The singer declined but the band played a song which I think was a song specially for Bayonne, and the older members of the audience all sang. The band stopped to allow them to sing on in their own time, with the strong and eerie sound of unaccompanied singing rising all around us. It was a wonderful moment to see the shining eyes and proud faces of the people for whom this place is home, singing with such sincerity. It was equally wonderful to watch a little girl on the side running around as if she was a pony, in time to each piece of music. By this time Jan had joined us and, after packing our chairs under the rotunda, we all walked home together. 
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