QUARANTE VILLAGE PARK WITH PICS

Our little village of Quarante has a small grocery store - the kind that's called a Mom and Pop operation in the States. Mom's always there. I've never seen Pop. Whenever we drive out of Quarante to head for one of the surrounding towns with  more comprehensive shopping opportunities, an ATM (Quarante doesn't have one.) or a gas station (Quarante doesn't have one.), we pass a little park. There's a broad lawn - dogs not allowed - and just a few benches. So our curiosity was piqued when, on our way back from our walk to the cemetery recently, we came upon a sign that we hadn't seen before pointing the way to a different park on the other side of the village. We decided to explore.

The road to the park led through a lotissement, the French word for a housing development. You see, the French don't choose to bulldoze farmland in order to build houses or commercial centers. Their zoning laws (or the French equivalent thereof) essentially require that new housing be built on ground adjacent to existing villages where the necessary infrastructure can handle the growth. The result is compact growth dotted amid broad swaths of greenspace. Oh, those tricky socialist bleeding hearts.

But still with our American experiences in mind, as we walked up a hill past relatively new houses with relatively new cars parked out front, we imagined that the park to which we were headed was built for the youngsters in the neighborhood replete with playground equipment and, perhaps, a soccer field.

We were wrong.

I'd guess that the village bought or otherwise reserved the hilltop park property some time ago, perhaps decades before the lotissement was built. The pavement ends after the last house. A wide gravel path bordered by iris and other plantings winds up to the crest with two or three widely spaced streetlamps to light the way at night. At the top, a couple of benches look out over the village and adjacent vineyards, quite a view given that the park is on a level with the church and the mairie, always built on high ground in these little villages. And that's that except for what appears to be an informal fire pit for those willing to drag combustibles up the hill for a bonfire. Nothing fancy. Just a spot on high ground to catch a breeze on a hot summer night while you hug your honey.

We're SO happy that we live here.

QUARANTE CEMETERY WITH PICS

Cathey and I had driven past the sign for the cemetery in Quarante on the back way out of town a time or two but we hadn't stopped. The other day, we decided to take a walk and see how it stacked up against the cemetery in Capestang, the first French cemetery that we explored and still a favorite. I wouldn't say that we are true cemetery aficionados. But we've enjoyed walking through several in our little corner of the world and we've never failed to be touched and amazed. We look forward to another tour of our local cemetery on All Souls Day. The plants and flowers brought by faithful family members are a riot of color among the cold granite.

The cemetery  gate is understated, set back from a quiet street.

This monument greets you on the inside. I'll let the rest speak for itself.

SCHOOL CHILDREN AND THE ABBEY IN QUARANTE

Our house in Quarante is on a quiet, pedestrian street. When sitting on our second floor patio (first floor for my European readers), we can hear the doors of our neighbors' houses open and close, their heated 'discussions' with their teenage children, their techno music, and the like. None of it is really offensive. For instance, the techno music that our closest neighbor enjoys only plays for 15 minutes or so in mid afternoon. We can deal with that. And the teenage boy across the alley is basically a good kid who helps his mom water the plants and oil the wooden shutters when he's not off riding motorcycles with his buddies.

So when a gaggle of elementary school children, maybe 8 or 9 years old, came babbling and laughing down our little walkway the other day at about 14:00h (2:00 PM for our American readers), we heard them quite clearly. We thought nothing of it. The school is only a few blocks away. There's a park within walking distance. Whatever the reason, happy kids in the open air is a good thing. Cathey and I smiled at each other and went back to reading our books.

An hour or so later, we decided to take a walk. We've been doing a good bit of walking, both for exercise and to learn the lay of the land in our new home. Without thinking about the kids that had passed by before, we headed in the same direction, towards the Abbaye de Quarante (also known as Eglise Sainte-Mary de Quarante) just a few steps away. As we entered the square that the Abbey dominates, faint vocal music hovered at the edge of our hearing. It seemed to come from the Abbey. We decided to investigate.

I'll probably write about the Abbey in more detail later. Suffice to say that its history dates back over 1,000 years and the name of every abbot is enshrined on a plaque on one of the columns. It's an unpretentious sacred space by European standards, but pleasant and with a certain charm. You can learn more HERE. (Sorry. Website in French.)

As we approached the entrance, our suspicions were confirmed. The school children led by a half-dozen or so teachers were involved in some sort of vocal activity, either rehearsing for a show or simply using the acoustics of the Abbey to enhance their vocal games. One group would sing a note, another would sing the note a third higher. Occasionally, on some signal that we couldn't detect, the group directly in front of the altar would move off and another would take their place. At one point, two of the groups joined in a finger-snapping, jazzy little scat number.

Cathey and I simply stood in the back by the door and smiled. If there's a show coming up, we hope to attend. If not, how neat is it to bring kids into an acoustically interesting space and just let loose? Either way, we spent an enjoyable half hour just hanging out in the church in our new little home town.