Categories: culture
Date: 05 May 2009 18:49:58
The little jaunt to the next town I referred to in the post below turned into an unexpected treat.
I went to track down the local German-speaking congregation. They were meeting, appropriately enough, in a Saxon church which was built, it is thought, 1300 years ago around AD709. It has a fascinating history and was used for other purposes throughout its life. It proved to be so versatile that its original purpose was completely forgotten and was only rediscovered as ever having been a church in the 19th century.
The place was packed - but actually that wasn't difficult as I counted the rows and realised that although I had taken the last seat - there were only 30 in this small chamber (it was a very dinky church... it feels more like a private chapel than anything resembling a parish church. The population of the town is now only approx. 10,000 so you can imagine that 1300 years ago it would have been a much, much smaller place.)
The service was very simple; a lady played her recorder to accompany the rather musically uninspiring hymns; prayers were delivered rather perfunctorily and I found it hard to hear all the sermon as my two little neighbours were munching pretzels and although not making any other noise the female pastor's voice was not very strong and did not always make the journey to the back of the church. Nevertheless, I participated in the service as best I could in my best German.
This visit to the Saxon church was not my first. I once went there when I was a teenager. The church was undergoing some renovations and all the chairs were stacked along one wall. On the top of a chair was a sign which had been taken off the wall requested donations to be placed "here." Next to the sign was a workman's discarded polystyrene coffee cup. I was amazed and touched to see that people had put their donations in the cup! Good thing that the workman had drained it dry!
As you know, I didn't attend the AGM but wandered past the neighbouring Norman church into the town to meander around. I chanced upon a French market where there was an array of wonderful comestibles. Having something of a weakness for fromage I purchased (in my best French) 3 soft cheeses in a deal for a fiver: a Camembert, Marikel from the Vosges which is rather nice, and Chandor from Lorraine which has an orange, curiously gritty rind, is very pongy (A Good Thing) but which does not have a more-ish taste (A Disappointing Thing).
I resisted the other delights on offer and proceeded to a tea shop (built 1674) which has just been awarded the accolade of providing The Best Tea in the Country. I'm not sure now if that is the best cup or the best meal so I spread my bets by ordering a cream tea - which was very nice, thank you. Probably the most enormous scones (one with raisins, one plain) I have ever had.
There was an Italian family at the next table. The mother asked if there were grapes in the scones. The waitress, dressed as a Victorian maid, understood the enquiry a bit literally. No, there weren't any grapes in the scones. (Perhaps not grapes now..but they were grapes before they were dried!).
I then pottered through the ancient streets to visit my friends, P&T, from madchurch* days who live in the converted bakery where more tea was drunk before hopping on the train for a 15-minute ride through the valley to the Ancient Roman City. Quite an unexpected linguistic and cultural treat!
*possibly pre-dating JtL's madchurch days.