(We took possession of the keys yesterday)
We’ve left the tower, but not before taking pictures, so that we can plan the decorations. We will need a fence and gate as the locals seem to treat our tower like a public amenity. Other than that it’s pretty perfect, some paint and curtains for the many, many windows.
No kitchen yet but with the hotel’s great food so close we might not need one. Just a tap for water, and of course that won’t be a problem because there’s a lot of water stored here. It’s a water tower. Although with all this water there may be some issues with electricity, just candles to begin with then.
(Might need a carpet and paint job here)
Today, at the start of our last week, we stopped to visit Limoges and it turns out we may have real estate here too. Nothing finalised but here’s a sneak preview of Denis’ Place. It’s a little run down and they melted his statue during the second world war, but I think we could make it our own.
While we were checking the place out we decided to have some lunch. It was very busy (remember lunch is sacred…) so we had to get a table inside. We were seated beside a woman at a table on her own. We had barely taken off our coats when she started talking to us. We smiled for a bit and she was still talking so we smiled some more. Eventually, the tension got too much, wondering if she required a reply, so I said we only have a little French.
(Picture and history of Denis’ statue)
Usually that either stops all conversation or the person throws in a few English words. Not this woman. She happily told us we were to speak French in France. No one speaks French in Ireland, so in France we must speak French. We completely agreed, so we chatted about the wonderful French food, the weather – it does rain sometimes, she said. And how her friend was supposed to be joining her but was delayed because she was a professional (I don’t know either???). All this in French!
(The roundabout where Denis’ statue once stood)
Then our food came and we all went quiet.
It struck me that she just wanted to talk, our understanding was not important. What do we ever understand of other people’s conversation anyway, even if they speak the same language as us? We listen and then we process what we heard according to the way we think. We notice the bit that resonates with us. If it seems true and we like what they say, then we will probably like them. But with all the processing we’re doing the understanding is only in our own heads!
(Nice green country lanes around here)
Then we got back on the bike and I stopped thinking – always helpful….
From the priest’s house to yours, Mairead.