Travelling again Part 14

Just after I had sent off the post last week, the TV crew reappeared with great bustle and activity. It seems that we were wrong in thinking they had left. Their re-appearance was to provide us with some enjoyable entertainment over the next few hours! I should just say something here about a group of locals whom we have named ‘The Bench Brigade’. There are between six and ten of them - all very good friends, quite obviously – and each day they congregate in a sunny corner outside the back of the church, a place which also has a very good view of the people coming to and going from the supermarket; coming and going in the parking places; and coming and going generally! There are two benches for them to sit on, but the two benches placed end to end really only accommodate six of them comfortably, so when there are more, they sit one forward and one back so that they can all fit in. They are all of an age, mostly toothless and/ or bald (the men and the women) but quite obviously not at all concerned about things like that. They chatter away at the tops of their voices, probably because they are deaf, too, and laugh uproariously at each other’s jokes. One old man has an enormous belly which his shirt strains over, and when he laughs, this whole mound heaves up and down. Another old lady had obviously had her hair dyed a particularly bright carroty colour which the French seem to be partial too, but it had mostly grown out so just the very ends were bright orange while the rest was almost white – it looked as if her head was on fire! One of the other men, who wore a South African rugby jersey for almost the entire time we were in Breil, was going bald in patches but had let his hair grow long elsewhere, which made him look very peculiar. Neels asked him why he wore the jersey and he replied that he was a staunch SA rugby supporter. One way and another, the whole group were just delightful, with each one of them a ‘character’ and I was longing to get a picture of them all squashed on to the bench. I am sure I could have just asked and they would have let me, but then they would have all ‘posed’ which I didn’t want, but in the end I never got the opportunity. However, on Sunday evening after the TV crew had returned, I happened to look out of the window, across the square, and there they all were, being interviewed and filmed. They had got themselves all spruced up with shiny faces and combed hair, and the lady with carroty hair had even had hers re-dyed for the occasion. They were all sitting up straight on some stone benches right across from our window, so I couldn’t resist the opportunity and quickly snapped off a couple of shots of them. To me, they represented the essence of Breil – old, but still lively, and totally unselfconscious about appearances. Just after the filming ended, a dramatic thunderstorm erupted which rattled the windowpanes, but it was soon over and we became aware of trumpets sounding and the noise of a bass drum, so we went out to see what was going on as it was not visible from our window. In the covered verandah of the building next to ours, we discovered a brass band warming up, and a long trestle table covered with a paper cloth. Then the rain started again so we hurried back to the shelter of the apartment. ‘Something to do with the village inhabitants’ we thought, and anyway the band was not particularly tuneful. We had not been home for more than a few minutes when the band began to play in earnest and in tune, and the drummer was actually beating in reasonable time too, so Neels went down again to see what had changed. By now several of the inhabitants had gathered, amongst them the local butcher, who we had come to know, and the bakery lady, whom Neels knew so well that he no longer had to ask for his daily order of croissants, baguette and pains au chocolat. Both of them asked where I was and told him to fetch me because there was to be a party given by the TV company and everybody in the town was invited. By the time we joined them, there were huge buckets of crisps, platters of sliced ham, olives and pieces of pizza laid out on the table. There was fruit juice, Coca Cola and red or white wine available to drink, and all were welcome. The band was deafening so there was no real need to talk, it could all be said with ones hands. By the time we left them to finish up, the party had become quite jolly, the band was exhausted and we didn’t need supper that night! The next day was partly sunny again so in the afternoon we walked up to a view site above the town where there is a tiny church which dates back to the 11th century. On the way up we walked past dozens of allotments with vegetables, flowers and fruit growing abundantly. Of course, none of the houses in the village have gardens at all, so these little patches are to compensate for that. Had I known beforehand that the round trip was about three kilometres, of which half was seriously uphill, I may well not have started out but I have to admit that the view from the top was spectacular and worth the effort. On Tuesday we had been invited to dine with our new South African friends and to our amazement she produced a really delicious bobotie. I say ‘amazement’ because the ingredients for a truly South African bobotie are not easily come by in the mountains of eastern France. We had a lovely evening with them and hope we will not lose touch once we all return home. The next day had been set aside for cleaning and packing and saying our goodbyes to new friends, and on Thursday we packed everything into our car and aimed her nose westwards, to Lezignan-Corbieres, not too far from Narbonne. A British friend has a house there and this year her visit and ours happened to coincide. The weather worsened the further east we drove, and shortly after we arrived at her house, it began to rain quite heavily. It didn’t really improve during our entire stay, but we had plenty of catching up to do and had seen most of the sights on a previous visit, so it really didn’t matter. All too soon, it was time to leave again and by Sunday afternoon we were back in the house we started from three weeks ago. It almost feels like coming home!