The gravel and the funeral

The gravel and the funeral

We have a lovely cottage in the Roussillon. South facing terrace and garden, views out of this world, a lovely village full of lovely people, who are always pleased to see us. The only downside is that the house is on an alleyway too narrow and steep for a car. So we park on the church tiny square . Pushing the weekly shopping in the wheelbarrow down 100 yards of steep lane keeps us fit, actually it is the going back up that does!!
However, one day I decided that I wanted to put a load of gravel down in the garden, some brown some yellow. I needed 5 tons of the stuff. As I was in the UK working whilst my husband and No1 son were in France, working on the house or so they said, I ordered the gravel and phoned to tell them the delivery date. All was well, the gravel would be delivered in the church square and they would wheelbarrow it down to the garden. No problem!! EXCEPT that on that day, unknown to me and them, there was a funeral.

And the tradition is that the coffin is displayed in, yes you guessed it, the church square so that mourners can give the family their condoleances. I couldn’t stop laughing when they explained to me that they had wheelbarrowed 5 tons of gravel in 6 hours running all the way down and back up again to clear the church square in time for the funeral.
Apparently the villagers kept saying the usual “bon courage” whilst having a good giggle and bought them several beers in admiration when they had finished. Both lost a few pounds in the process but my garden looked beautiful and the funeral cortege went about its business with just a few pieces of gravel stuck on the sole of their shoes.

The gravel and the funeral