Once a year Gaillac hosts a welcome soiree for all new arrivals in the town. Not one to miss a free drink, Him indoors and me went along to find the Abbeye de Saint-Michel. We took the Land Rover, as it was situated about 2 km from chez-nous. As usual in France's ancient town centres, we had to negotiate a series of very narrow lanes and - you've guessed it - managed to scratch the wing mirror on his coveted prize possession. Good job no-one in the vicinity understood English invective! The Abbeye itself is historic, housing a cave, museum and tourist office. Around 50 newcomers enjoyed a video show, explanations of how the town is run and plenty to eat and drink. What I hadn't realised was that on each Friday night in July and August there's a free show on the riverbank gardens alongside the Abbeye, including drinks, jazz music and fireworks on special occasions like Bastille Day. Sounds good fun.
One charming member of the Mairie's committee took the time to show us the beautiful river view and ancient bridge from on-high. We had long discussions with him about many things French including the current euro crisis. When Him indoors discovered his first name, he ventured: 'I'll be Franck with you, if you'll be Ernest with me!' Clearly, the man had much to learn about dry English humour.
Showing posts with label mairie. Show all posts
Showing posts with label mairie. Show all posts
29th August 2010
I've always been a 'what if....?' person. Something in the local news brought this home to me this week.
Josianne Vermeersch received the news we all dread. Her brother had died. Despite her sadness, she arranged that the interment would be at the cemetery in Hellemmes, N. France. All the family were contacted, including her ex-husband Elie Langlet, but she couldn't reach her 42 year old son Oliver, who lived alone nearby. When he still failed to answer, she left a message on his mobile phone that he should attend his uncle's funeral. However he failed to turn up. After the funeral, the family sadly made their way back along a cemetery path, when she suddenly let out a cry. In front of her was a newly-dug plot 'Oliver Langlet, 1968 - 2010'. The local mairie confirmed Oliver's death and said that they had sent a letter to the family, but the address they used was out of date. In French law, as in many eastern religions, interments are required to be carried out quickly. So, in cases where the family cannot be found, the burial goes ahead without them!
In today's society where increasing numbers are living alone, it's vital that individuals leave up-to-date next-of-kin contact information with their local doctor and/or their mairie in France. The doctor's a good choice as it's usually he who writes the death certificate. Once done, constructive negativists like me can get on with their lives.
Josianne Vermeersch received the news we all dread. Her brother had died. Despite her sadness, she arranged that the interment would be at the cemetery in Hellemmes, N. France. All the family were contacted, including her ex-husband Elie Langlet, but she couldn't reach her 42 year old son Oliver, who lived alone nearby. When he still failed to answer, she left a message on his mobile phone that he should attend his uncle's funeral. However he failed to turn up. After the funeral, the family sadly made their way back along a cemetery path, when she suddenly let out a cry. In front of her was a newly-dug plot 'Oliver Langlet, 1968 - 2010'. The local mairie confirmed Oliver's death and said that they had sent a letter to the family, but the address they used was out of date. In French law, as in many eastern religions, interments are required to be carried out quickly. So, in cases where the family cannot be found, the burial goes ahead without them!
In today's society where increasing numbers are living alone, it's vital that individuals leave up-to-date next-of-kin contact information with their local doctor and/or their mairie in France. The doctor's a good choice as it's usually he who writes the death certificate. Once done, constructive negativists like me can get on with their lives.
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