The Cantal, a pilgrimage

Today I said farewell to St Bonnet de Salers and went through much of the countryside on the train up to Cler,ont Ferrand and thence over much flat land to Paris. The flatter and drier the country becomes the more Australians crop up!

 

But this country around Salers and Mauriac have shown Fred and me much more than bricollage and Brico Marché shops. (do it yourself plumbing à là Fyshwick!)

 

It has been sad to farewell Anthony and Dany and all of Greg and Wendys friends. Here is a land and the people of the land... they are not all locals. Some come from the Dordogne; some greet with four, not three kisses; but it is a land and its people that we have been amongst for two weeks. Fred returns later in the week to do more work. 

 

On Friday we joined with the tourists in the Dordogne; at the huge chasm of Grouffre Padiraic and in Rocamadour. Rocamadour was a pilgrimage centre and it is now continuing much of that tradition as a tourism centre; selling fine arts and crafts and hospitality. Its just the spiritual feeding which is perhaps missing! or something... perhaps the missing bit is why we all gather at these places; like flocks of hungry birds....

 

now I need to find out where Women in Black meet in Jerusalem! I did not write it down... (sigh)