9th Day
Bonjour!
Woke up to
the sounds of a garbage truck and to bitter cold. I looked for frost on the pumpkin. I had on every stitch of clothes. I slept fitfully the entire night only the
last three hours were continuous. My
companions for the last three nights are leaving this morning for Limoges. She said that there is a beautiful railroad
station in Limoges. They are from Brest,
Brittany, which is my destiny for next year’s trip. Does a 72 year old dare plan a year
ahead? They invited me to visit. They have two daughters, one working in Paris
and the other finishing medical school in Lorient, Brittany. They have been married 29 years. Incidentally, today could have been my 48th
anniversary. They have no grandchildren
and are a lovely, engaging couple.
Isabelle and Marie-Line are continually amazed I obtain such information
with my limited French.
After they
leave, I bicycle into town for my usual stops at Office-de-Tourisme and the
Casino. Their Wifi is acting up forcing
me to reconnect several times. I struggle
but am able to do most of my business. I
do find out that the 44-year-old son of one of high school classmates was
diagnosed with cancer. He is at the Mayo
clinic in Rochester reviewing his options.
Diane was very involved in school, married a man in the class ahead of
ours, and also ended up in education.
This is tough storm to weather.
The other
Tour de France will pass through Eymoutiers on July 6th, the day I
return to the US. They better have their
rain gear handy.
There is another big event this coming
Sunday. There will be a religious
procession at 3:00 commemorating a 17th century miracle. One summer the wheat went bad. With little choice the villagers continued to
eat the bread. Many died and others fell
seriously ill. They prayed for heavenly
intervention. When the situation eased,
they promised a yearly procession. In
the last century the townspeople voted to have the procession every seven
years. Men were using a cherry picker to
string red and white bunting across the boulevard.
After lunch and a short nap, the
sun is out. Thinking that it is a good
time to dry my clothes, I head around the buildings to discover my clothesline
and clothespins gone. I will check with
the taller cleaning lady tomorrow.
With the sun out it also seems like
a good time to do the walking tour of the town.
I have barely parked and locked my bike when a drizzle begins. Within two blocks the rain is heavy and
steady. I find refuge in the covered
square and nurse a café for 90 minutes.
Joining me is the man and his black Labrador. He is wearing a green army jacket with a
brown fur collar over tan cargo pants.
Isn’t he the fashion statement of the day?
Finally, there is a lull and I race
back to the campground. By the way, my
guess about the campground was correct. It
is on the site of former castle that was destroyed during a 19th
century war.
The Ursuline nuns ran a school for
girls in town until it was disbanded in 1790, another victim of the French
Revolution. The Church is part of a college. The seats for the monks have armrests that
end with unique carvings of animals and people.
Each one is different.
Back in the campground, I run into
my first English couple. They have been
over for seven days and have had rain every day. They tour every year for the month of June
before the high season. They say that
this weather is most unusual. I should
hope so.
Peter Rabbit joined Flopsy and
Mopsy. His fur is a lighter brown. Now where is Mr. MacGregor. Beatrix Potter would be proud.
Avoir!
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