Since my swissophilia extends to a knowledge of their car registration system I was able to open a conversation by asking how things were in the Valais. Apparently all is well and not much has changed in the mountains above Sion since I slept in a barn there in the fifties. Strangely enough these people, or at least the older ones in the party, were here in the fifties, living and working in this village. The bulk of them lived in the house opposite, now being renovated (slowly) for eventual occupation by Alain who has a sawmill here and runs a carpentry workshop in Chatelus. They took various photos of themselves with the house in the background and set off to have a look around the village.
I discovered that one lady had lodged in our house. I was intrigued by the idea of finding out what the place was like fifty odd years ago so I invited her in. Had the positions been reversed I’d have jumped at it but she said maybe after the walk, and then after the walk the minibus slipped away unseen.
An occasional record of the doings of a bus pass holder "Just because something has happened to you doesn't mean it matters." Hemingway
2 comments:
You'll have to follow the aforementionoed swiss lovely back to her homeland so you can amaze and impress her with photos of your house. I can well imagine she might have been shy of chapping at the door of an international man of the world and it was simply this shyness that accounted for the silent slipping away of the minibus. Who, after all, would not falter when standing in the shadow of such unassuming greatness?
Is it simple modesty that prevents us from sharing your likeness? I have only a little red cross in a box where some might conventionally place a photo....
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