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This week began quite badly, in my head, with bouts of homesickness and doubts about being here. But the real low preceded my suddenly feeling better about things. On Tuesday, I suddely felt I 'belonged' at the choir at Lavelanet . No different from usual in reality, the fly on the wall would have noticed nothing. But in my head, I somehow felt more a part of the group, less an English person trying to make a go of things in a foreign place, as we did one of our final rehearsals for a concert later this month.
On Wednesday, Malcolm and I had a day out in Pamiers. The best fun was our meal, in a restaurant on an industrial estate which by 12.15 was crowded out with workmen in their bleus, office staff, and what seemed to be a party of managers entertaining some visitors with food that wasn’t part of the menu du jour. The atmosphere was cheery, the food very good, and the bill ridiculous - 3 unfinishably large courses, wine and coffee all for 11.50 euros. We’ll be back.
We topped it off with a walk on a further stretch of the Camino de St.
Jacques de Compostelle in the gentle, lush countryside outside Pamiers.
On Friday we spent much of the day labouring on the potager. Felling a dead fig tree is hard labour. So is lierre management. But picking cherries, as many as you can eat, and then basinsful to take home, isn’t.
Saturday, we went to a baroque and 20th century concert as part of the MozARIA festival held each year in the area. The 3 players hugely enjoy their music, and each other, and kept us entertained with anecdotes and demonstrations, as well as their accomplished playing. It was held in an ancient and lovely church with the most uncomfortable pews in Christendom, but we managed to forget how stiff we were getting.
After the late night (concerts begin at 9.00, and after several encores, you’re not out afterwards particularly early), we were up for our Sunday rando - this time, very near to the Via Ferrata at Vicdessos. When we’d been there a fortnight ago, we’d noticed a very large hill opposite topped off with a plateau and castle, Montreal de Sos, and that’s where we went today. After the via ferrata, it held no fears, even
though one of the paths was at the edge of an impossibly sheer drop down. We explored the castle remains, part of a 15th century garrison and village, and a huge variety of early summer mountain flowers. Malcolm and I looked across more than once to the many people climbing, as we had done the other week, up the near vertical rock face opposite, and took every opportunity to point out our route (though we were honest enough to admit we’d only done the beginner’s one).Lots of jokes at lunchtime about today’s walk, held in the south of France in early June. We were all wearing cosy fleeces, raingear, even gloves, and our usual protracted lunch break was squeezed into 20 minutes, as nobody wanted to stay still, getting chillier by the minute. This was another day when for some reason I experienced a shift in perception, and felt even more comfortable in the company of this group which has from the first time we joined them been welcoming and friendly.
And later, an elderly resident stopped me in the street to compliment us on our newly decorated house. ‘I know we haven’t met before’, she said ‘but I
Our vineyard...
...all 6 vines, is doing very well.must kiss you because I’m so pleased with what you and your husband have done to your house'. We’ve been complimented a dozen times or more. I’ll post photos one fine day, but Picasa’s run amok, and I can’t seem to sort out the photos I’ve already down loaded. Maybe I’ll take some more…..
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