Reflexions

Things are starting to move, albeit in snail time, tomorrow is the start of the school holidays, which go on for quite a while as France is split into different zones. It was another quiet day, but there is definite movement. 'Alanfromdyfed' to use his blog name, called here at two o'clock on the way from Malaga to Kilkenny; he stayed chatting to me until six o'clock, when he left, taking a casual drive to the ferry in Roscoff for the night sailing. This 'legendary' bar had three other customers the whole time that he was here. Although they weren't many, the evening brought me customers from Lille in the north, Bourgogne or Burgundy as it's historically referred to in English and Haute Savoie in the south-east, the last area to make up the modern map of France. Hopefully the quiet of the winter is coming to an end.
Something came back to me today after my chat with Alan, something inscrutable, The houses in my school, red; green; yellow and blue were named after Welsh heroes, Caradog; Owain Glyndwr; Llewelyn and Hywel Dda respectively but nearly every morning we used to sing 'Jerusalem' in England's green and pleasant lands. It was a grammar school and they had pretentions.