My Private Paradise
I often sit in my conservatory and contemplate the panoramic view it offers me. My eyes move from the church across the valley in the East to the two hundred year old oak trees on the Southern border of my land. I ponder what to do with the ivy covered, hundred year old boulangerie. The flowers and shrubs I planted which are thriving give me a thrill and I wonder whether to try vegetables this year.
And I feel guilty.
Guilty that all this should be mine. I listen to the radio and every day I hear of the war torn world. I hear of rape and mutilation. Bombing and killings are frequent the world over it seems. But not here. Not in my private paradise. The only disturbance to my tranquillity and reminder of this other world is the terrifying sound of the military jets. They practise low-flying sometimes just skimming the tops of the thirty feet poplars which surround two sides of my five thousand square metres of garden.
I tell myself that my political activity and campaigning days are over and I am entitled to this peaceful retirement. It is easy to do because believe me life in a Brittany commune is amazing.
Before I left England people asked me, “What will you do?” And even now because I live alone and my nearest neighbour is two hundred metres away and my house is the only one in the lane which leads into a field people here ask me , “What do you do all day? ” .
Where do I begin? I write, I paint, I dance, I swim, I play music, I go to concerts, I go to communal meals, I have visitors, I visit friends and I garden. In fact my biggest problem is deciding what to do. I am often heard complaining that I do not have enough time to myself. I really believed before I came that I would have more time to paint and write. Not so. I have always struggled with time. This quote sums up my dilemma.
“Even when we feel healthy and physically secure we have every day to find some optimum balance between our need to be an individual and our need to be a member of a group. If we go to far one way we are threatened with loneliness and isolation, and if we go the other way we are threatened by being swallowed up in the group. So every day we have to find an optimum balance between freedom and security. We cannot have both. The more free we are the less secure; and the more secure the less free. D Rowe ‘Beyond Fear’.
When I listed my interests and activities above I omitted a very important one. I had to learn French and for that reason I joined the Club des Aines.
I wanted to fit in and to take part in village life. I wanted to make friends with French people. It is so easy to get stuck in an English ghetto speaking English all the time and watching English television.
Club Des Aines
Sometimes we meet to play games, boules, belotes or scrabble. Sometimes we have outings. Sometimes we have a communal meal.
The numbers vary from 100-300 but everyone is found a seat and we enjoy waitress/ waiter service. The meals are usually five courses, sometimes more and each course is accompanied by a drink. We begin with the customary greetings at the door. Having lived here six years I mostly know who to kiss once, twice, three or four times and with whom to just shake hands. As you can imagine this takes some time especially when some people stay to chat which I always hope they do because it's one of the opportunities I get to practise my French.
We begin with a choice of aperitifs Ricard or whiskey with crispy nibbles and endless plates delicious nibbles. Next came the starter which last time was a salmon steak and salad with a glass of white wine. The main course is always steak or ham on the bone or coq a vin and chips and vegetables. This is served with red wine of course. Next comes the cheese and more red wine. The bread basket is continually replenished and there is always butter in Brittany. The sweet is often apple tart and delicious as was the chilled Champagne which came with it. Coffee followed with the square of chocolate and last but not least a digestive. This is a local speciality made by one of our members. My table companion Clotilde gave me the recipe. You heat red wine and add sugar and plums and Eau de Vie and wait as long as you can before using it. It is an absolutely delicious way to rounded off meal and is regarded as a digestive.
During the meal between courses a microphone is passed around the tables and anyone who feels the urge can sing or tell a joke. The Doyenne of the village Simone who is 99 sings songs which make people laugh 'til they cry. She is word perfect without a crib sheet. She also tells jokes. She lives alone. She is straight backed and has a lovely head of grey hair. If only we could all be so healthy at that age.
The meal begins at midday and ends after 5 o'clock. The tables are quickly cleared away while the band warms up and then the dancing begins. We do mostly ballroom dancing on these occasions but also line dancing and the occasional Breton Dance. I think it finishes at about 9 o’clock but I am usually too tired to stay to the end and I am probably the youngest there.
I hope to emulate Simone or at least live to a ripe old age like most of the villagers in this Brittany commune where I live in my private paradise.
997
