. . . sometimes it is best to say nothing, sometimes just to let things rest a while . . . plenty of time and space on the road to reflect and there are a couple of things to share . . .
. . . one of the drivers who picked me up after Lourdes said: ah yes, the church's supermarket . . . pretty sure Jesus would be turning tables over if he showed up . . . the only holy thing for me was an old beggar at the gate of the Grotte . . . sat impassively, like a Buddha without the smile, eyes fathomless, he held out his bowl . . . I took out my change, gave him it all . . .
. . . then there was the Vietnamese restaurant . . . noodle soup, no meat . . . very spicy . . . it's been over 20 years since I tasted it, but I reckon there was chicken stock in it . . . which reminds me of my children's granny, making us macaroni cheese . . . what are the pink bits Joan? . . . just some bacon for flavour . . . well as long as it's not a big lump of meat, it's vegetarian then . . .
. . . before Lourdes was Les Chartels, which I keep typing as Les Charlets for some reason . . . still rather concerned for Cat, living in a barn with winter coming . . . next door to the house she used to live in, now a second home for a Parisian who comes three times a year . . . a warning about ownership structures . . . a co-op with some investment could surely take her vision forward . . . find her on Helpx if you are interested . . .
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