Livinhac, France, Sunday, November 2nd

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More rain, and not of the sort that doesn’t mean to stay. We went next door to have breakfast with Claire, and had a very pleasant meal, chatting in French about the village and the possibility of us leaving.It didn’t look good, so once we heard that Claire led the choir at the church, we decided to go along and worry about leaving later.

First, though, we had to go to the little grocer shop and buy some supplies for the day. Several men were standing under the awning, looking out at the rain and I guess philosophising or simply gossiping. Like all tiny one-shop villages, the prices were higher than in the town, but the range was good and we bought up big. We had two and a half days of meals to provide for, since there would be no shops before Figeac.

The church is in the central square, which is also flanked by the three shops, the post office and the Mairie (town hall). The central section was packed, so we and others who had left it to the last minute to arrive, had to sit on the sides, where the huge pillars prevented us seeing the action. It was a special service for All Hallows, with the five parishes combining at Livinhac. The service involved lots of singing, with responses to prayers and other sections being led by Claire and with the choir leading the answering parts. Claire’s clear voice soared to the heights of the building. There were a lot of men present, something to note for us, but maybe the usual thing in France. Expecting little from the heating, everyone was rugged up in coats, which created an overall drab effect. Communion was quick and business-like, with lines of parishioners filing past and returning up the side of the church. Unfortunately an older lady felt faint, and an ambulance had to be sent for. The Pompiers (fire brigade) also came, and Claire told us that the first group to call in any emergency is the Pompiers, and they decide what the response should be. In this case, the ambulance arrived quickly, and when we saw the Pompiers coming in a car, there were people in the backseat. I wondered if they had picked up some relatives. The people in the church laid their coats out along the pew, and gently rested the lady on them, covering her with more. She looked like all the old ladies in all the churches that I had ever known, and the people helping her, like all the caring folk who make each others lives safer and richer.

The service was in French, with the sermon dwelling on those who have died and their life in Christ. It ended abruptly after some singing, with the priest saying the equivalent of, ‘Have a good day’. People poured out into the rain, with some stopping for a chat and others rushing off under umbrellas or to their cars.

After lunch I typed on, making lots of progress on the Tanzania section of the blog and switching my head into France to work on that too. Keith had another sleep – it sounds like he is always asleep, but he wakes very early, sometimes at five thirty, and works away on his part of the blog, which is proof reading my writing and selecting photos from both our cameras to go with it.

Jean-Luc is a professional photographer who is also an artist. Late in the afternoon he took us to his gallery and we were incredibly impressed. He makes conceptual art works based on industrial products, and for each one, he took us through his thinking and the process that had been used. He invented a process whereby five photos are placed inside a cube, and then, using filters and sculpted glass, the realistic photos become a completely new, and we thought beautiful, work of art. They are still strongly linked to industry or the product that was the inspiration. We were so pleased that it had rained all day, since if we had marched off, we would never have had this wonderful experience.

If anyone is interested to see examples of his work, Jean-Luc’s web site is

http:www.jean-luc-atteleyn.fr

We armed ourselves with our umbrellas and went for a walk across the river and then back around the town. Keith commented that Livinhac was just the sort of village that I had in mind for after we had left Quirieu in July, but instead we had gone to Bayonne, which was very interesting but a lot larger. My original plan had been to go somewhere where there were no sites to be rushing out to see, where there were a few shops so that we would be able to chat each day, a square with a café to sit out on, and a larger town within walking distance. I was going to study French and then go out and practice it. There was land and buildings for sale, and I renewed my thought of living for some time each year in France. Apart from all the other good features, we passed a library and a bus stop. Unfortunately the bus stop mostly serves the school bus, with only a weekly market bus for other citizens.

We dined a little grandly for us, on leek quiche and spinach roll, courtesy of the patisserie, and a chopped salad with lemon dressing. It was soon time for bed, mostly because we were cold from sitting around doing nothing physical, and the day was done. I started reading ‘Northanger Abbey’ by Jane Austin, which had been given to me in Zanzibar by an Englishwoman, Jane, whom we had met there. At the time it was published it was a biting social satire, and it is very interesting to have an author’s own voice so much a part of the book, despite an omnipotent narrator being evident most of the time. Nevertheless, it is not the book to grab me and keep me reading all night, and not even the book (so far) to find invading my dreams.