Our holidays are beginning with the visit of an elderly friend from our home church in North Wales.
On Sunday Patricia spotted one of our next-door neighbours, the lads whose door is opposite ours, putting something in the big bins. She scuttled over for a chat. We're looking after their cat at the end of August and we talked about doing another apero or something to invite all the residents of the apartments. They suggested that if we do it at their place we could have a barbecue, so it's arranged for the latter part of August.
Today we scuttled down on the tram to the quays and took our ease, eating extortionately priced ice-cream on the terrace overlooking the river, and running the gauntlet of innumerable cyclists, skateboarders, uniwheelers, roller-skaters and other sundry light rolling-stock. As we staggered back to our flat we bumped into another near neighbour, a teacher from the language school who is also a travel writer and poet. We'd bumped into her before on a walk round the vines years ago, and she told us where she lived, so a while ago I looked out for her house and ... somehow ... just spotted it. We'd intended popping a card in to invite her round for a tisane, but we intend so many things.
Anyway she rounded the corner and did a double-take. Then she slowly remembered who we were. So now we have to pop that card through and invite her round for that tisane.
Sunday evening was very pleasant. We were lower in numbers, barely twenty, but super folk, some new folk, some not used to church - the service in our home won't have helped with that much - then hot dogs and Uno and music on the terrace. Two jazz pianists. Chinese and South Korean exchanging phone numbers. One chap's prayer that almost had me blubbing. Ages from 80s to 20s. Almost everyone was resident in Bordeaux. No holidaymakers this week. And one chap said it was the best evening of his life! (I didn't think it was that good, but hey...)