When Unpleasant Things Command Our Attention
Life can be very unpredictable at times.
We all know that. Things happen that we don’t expect and the world we enjoy can change significantly, almost overnight, at times.
And whilst we can perhaps push back a little sometimes in order to try and retain at least some of what we know and love, change can never be completely resisted.
In many ways that is good thing. Change can keep us healthy and motivated and bring us the sort of opportunities that can improve our lives.
But sometimes it can bring other, less pleasant things. Things that we had not considered or that don’t really bear thinking about until we are forced to confront them. And at moments like these, especially during ill health, we do well to pause and reflect a little on our priorities and direction.
And whilst such challenging moments are rarely easy to deal with, a distraction to ease the stress and take our minds elsewhere for a while is always welcomed.
So during my recent health issues, and it saddens me a little to mention them here, I have been fortunate to find a welcome distraction.
And in terms of timing it was pretty much perfect.
Last week we took a short trip to France, just a few days away to stay with old friends. It would be fair to say however that my current situation made me a little nervous about travelling. But, thankfully, hindsight showed me that my concerns were misplaced. Our time in the French countryside was full of fun and laughter, revisiting old memories and creating new, with sunshine, peace and quiet and a bucket full of positive vibes.
It really couldn’t have been any better.
And whilst my health did make some things a little challenging, it really was a relatively minor inconvenience in the overall scheme of things.
Because I was lucky enough to find things that mattered more.
We met up in Le Mans, an unexpectedly beautiful town. A picnic and ice cream in a typically French park before a leisurely stroll through the quiet residential streets, through the gardens of the art gallery before exploring the magnificent St. Julien Cathedral. The old medieval streets were stunningly beautiful with many half-timbered houses dating from the 14th to 16th centuries. And it was in one of these old buildings that we had drinks on a terrace looking out over the town before dinner in a wonderfully relaxed restaurant on the main square.
A dinner so enjoyable that we lost track of time and subsequently missed most of the light show taking place across town. And the best part was that no-one seemed to worry!
We followed our Le Mans experience with a very laid back afternoon at the chateau of Courtanvaux in Bresse-sur-Braye. Whilst the chateau itself was sadly closed to the public during our visit the grounds were wonderfully scenic. We enjoyed a walk along lush footpaths and through dense woodlands, culminating in a stroll around a lake in the most beautiful of settings. This rather magnificent and, in my view anyway, vast building was described to us as “one of the smaller chateaux in this region” which allowed me to discreetly revise my opinion with a little local perspective.
But in some ways, perhaps, the best was saved for our final day.
Who would have imaged that there would be such a surprising and picturesque village tucked away just around the corner.
A small village on the River Loir, with fewer than 350 inhabitants, Troo was simply stunning. Based on numerous levels, with the grand Saint-Martin collegiate church and the neighbouring Butte looking impressively out over the surrounding landscape, it was just full of surprises. From the church some rather steep footpaths and steps lead us down to terraces of troglodytic dwellings, many still inhabited by villagers. Caves that had been shaped over centuries had become houses and homes built deep into the cliffs. We walked along paths with chimneys appearing out of the ground at random intervals and found dozens of front doors and windows leading directly into the rock. We explored the old troglodyte bakery, the Fournil St-Gabriel, which also contained the well that had provided much of the village with water up until as recently as 1972. And we headed slowly down to the main street running alongside the river and found the crumbling remains of the Lazaret of Saint Catherine, a former leper hospital from the 12th century. Throw into the mix another old well, the “Talking Well” no less, this one over 45 metres deep, and the petrifying cave which crystalises objects with its limestone water, and you have the most fascinating as well as historic of locations.
And once again we explored the steep slopes and rather brutal staircases in bright, warm sunshine.
The luck was truly on our side.
And as a conclusion, I think it is important for me to recognise this trip for what it was. My welcome break was badly needed. It didn’t, and hasn’t, resolved my issues, but that’s not a problem. It has however helped and provided me with an opportunity to focus on other things, things that were wonderful and fun and, as I have already mentioned, very welcome. And for that I am genuinely grateful.
So thank you to Gail and to Julie and Phillip. Thank you to France. And thank you to the sunshine that enabled such a brief few days to become even more memorable than I had hoped.
