Brou, Bourg-en-Bresse

Sunday 20th September

Bourg-en-Bresse

We woke to the sound of the bells of Bourg-en-Bresse which seem to be constantly ringing from one of the three very large church/cathedral/basilica/monastery/abbeys with only short intervals of silence whilst, presumably the bell ringers get their breath and take some sustenance. In London and Liverpool their seemed to be great pride in the fact that they have the largest 13 ton bells, which they have named(Westminster Abbey’s bell is Big Ben) but are only rung on special occasions that is when F sharp is required.

So today was a rest day for Mary and I, whilst Michael and Karol continue digesting rural France. And a day to contemplate this culture: their joire de vivre, live life for the moment, their enjoyment of food, wine, 2 hour lunches, precision engineering, love of words (all the streets here are named after writers, philosophers, saints and leaders). Yet it appears to me that all these emotional attachments & connections are balanced by their reverence for the dead and those who gave their lives for this country. Their cemeteries are very well kept and visited and in every church there are lists of the towns people lost – in Beaune the names were also marked by the word “Resistance” and the knowledge that their hard won freedoms could be lost in a twinkling of an eye. So the French are ever vigilant and their skies are crisscrossed by invisible aircraft/satellites – the only evidence of their existence is the hundreds of jet streams of smoke and steam hatching the sky where ever we have been.

And whilst Mary sorted out the fine details of things, I enjoyed a couple of hours in the royal monastery galleries engaging with a truly enchanting collection of paintings which captured the best probably of art styles in France from 1300 – 1990s. I spent a long time scrutinising the incredible detail and perfect skin tones and colours laid down by invisible brush strokes until about 1870 when suddenly the hand became free and the medium (paint) started to take control. This culminated in the tachiste movement at about 1960 with a bunch of large slabs of colour and marks. It was a perfect demonstration of art history. All for free, as this weekend in France, all galleries and museums had free entry. Can’t imagine how busy Le Louvre would have been!

Just a quiet “catch up” day, time to reflect on our travels so far, do a little research into where we are going, and of course, find another lovely restaurant specialising in the local delicacy – Bressan chicken, washed down with a cheeky little Beaujolais.