18th November

I opened the curtains this morning and they are putting up Christmas decorations in the square outside. Can’t wait until switch on!

Ok so it’s confession time. Two things.

The first is that on the 31st of October I was still in bed, around 9am (I know, but there was no sofa so what’s a girl to do!) and the doorbell rang and then someone knocked at the door- and then knocked again. I couldn’t think who it could be, but quickly pulled on some clothes and opened the door. It had rained really heavily in the night and it crossed my mind that it was perhaps someone who needed access to fix a leak somewhere. But no- it was the police. A man and a woman in plain clothes, so detectives I guess. The man showed me his ID and they came in. Apparently, the man who lived in the apartment below me was in hospital and they were treating his injuries as suspicious. They wanted to know if I had heard anything in the night. They asked how long I had been in Vendôme (this is all in French by the way) and wanted to see my ID. Then they were gone- and I was left feeling a bit stunned.

I really hadn’t expected that- and I hadn’t heard anything either. I take my hearing aids out at night, and my hearing is really terrible. I had heard the rain that night as it had been torrential and I was right up in the roof space with 2 velux windows. Then I started to wonder if perhaps I had heard something else. If perhaps something else had disturbed me and not the rain- and that perhaps I could have helped the poor man. I think the police said he was elderly. I hoped he had family or friends that would visit him in hospital. That’s the thing about being on your own- that there’s no one to discuss things with. To bat something about until you feel better and more clear about things.

And that is the reason why I didn’t go to the salsa class that night because I felt unsettled and a bit on edge. I didn’t feel happy to leave the apartment and go out in the dark on my own. I also didn’t want to tell anyone about it because I knew that some people would be worried for me and might perhaps suggest that I move to different accommodation. I didn’t want to worry anyone and I didn’t want to move on, but I did want to document what had happened after I had moved on from Vendôme as it was a part of the experience I am having here. Also, I don’t want anyone to think that I was in a bad area or anything. Vendôme is a lovely place and everyone I met was very friendly. Sadly bad things happen in good places. I just hope the man made a full recovery and is doing well now.

On a lighter note, my second confession is……..

That I didn’t change the bedding on my “bed” (because it was really just 2 mattresses, one on top of the other, on the floor) the whole time I was in Vendôme! 4 weeks! Ooh! I know, that’s awful! BUT, bearing in mind the description I gave of the place when I got there, I really didn’t want to see what state the pillows and duvet and mattress were in!!! Maybe they were ok. But, I decided not to go there and, as I have stopped (touch wood) having hideous night sweats now, and there was only me, I took the decision to be a scruff- but a happy one! 🙂

On the subject of being only me, I have discovered the French word for a single person is célibataire. Lovely!!! Says it all doesn’t it?! 😦

So this célibataire (!) took herself off to the Musée des Beaux Arts in Tours today. Situated in Tours, in what what was the the Palace of the Archbishops, it is full of beautiful paintings and artefacts from the revolution period onwards. The building is beautiful but the floors are soooo creaky- ridiculously so actually, even for my ears!

As you know, I normally take tons of photos, even in museums. But here I didn’t. The lady who was, for want of a better term, “on guard” in the first room or so of the exhibition was extremely unwelcoming. I smiled and said “bonjour” and if looks could have killed! She was a bit scarey and it all felt very formal and hushed- well apart from the floors that is! Most of the other people were delightful, but she kind of set the tone and so I just kept sneaking my phone out and snapping a picture here and there when no-one was looking!

I don’t quite know what is going on here! I took a photo of the blurb but haven’t translated it yet.

Interesting, I thought, for a picture of this age to be depicting breast feeding. Hurrah 🙂

The museum is hosting a temporary exhibition about Balzac and his work at the moment, which runs from now until next February. Born in Tours, Balzac was a novelist and playwright, his most famous novel being La Comédie Humaine. His work influenced many writers, including Charles Dickens. He died in Paris, in 1850, aged 51 years, and is buried in the Père Lachaise cemetery, which I visited almost 2 years ago now to find the grave of “the little sparrow”, Édith Piaf.

The museum is right next door to the Cathedral of St Gatien and so I visited there next. Built between the 12th and 16th centuries, it is enormous- and very beautiful. It never fails to amaze me that buildings like this were created all those centuries ago with so little equipment. Towering structures covered in elaborate decoration both inside and out. I feel I might have said this previously, so apologies if that is so!