Saturday morning, I got on a train in my town. The whole world was icy cold and covered in morning-mist. As the train pulled out of the station and began speeding through countryside the sun began to triumphantly show it's face. It's big round yellow face. The fields and hedgerows were covered in frost, which the sun-rays slowly melted as the morning progressed.
I wrote a letter to Emily, and a post card to the jazz bar in Newcastle where i used to work on weekends.
Then I settle down to reading a book which I had borrowed from the local library called "les filles de Riyad"- the girls from Riyad. It is the story of a tight-knit bunch of friends, who belong to the upper classes of Saudi Arabian society. Some of them finish their university studies, and others give it up to get married. It is an eastern version of sex and the city, with the girls exchanging thoughts and discussing problems relating to their engagements and marriages. I think it was quite controvertial upon it's release into the arab world, because of the girls' intelligent questioning of long-held traditions. Enjoyable stuff really and an interesting insight into a very different culture.
When I eventually arrived in the big train station of Angers, I almost walked into Alice, despite the station being bustling with travellers. This was fortunate since neither of us had noted the other one's number down.
Alice lived in the same student accomodation as me during our first year of university, and is also working as a language assistant. It seems she is fortunate to have a bunch of other assistants living in the same town as her to socialise with on a regular basis though.
She is a very sweet girl, and in universtity formed part of a firm and slightly impenetrable friendship group. A bunch of funny, geeky and loyal friends- perhaps the joyful alternative girls of our uni? Maybe i would have been part of that group had I not become close to Emily?
We chatted and found we had plenty to say, as we drifted down a busy main road towards the tourist information centre, where we armed ourself with a map of the city. There was no need to use the map to find the castle. It is an enormous thing.
The castle is really just a huge wall, towering neck craningly high above us. The wall has round turrets at regular intervals in the wall- these turrets had a curving form, and resembled power station cooling towers rising out of a deep mist. The castle had a deep moat around it, which perhaps in medieval times was filled with dirty defensive sludge, but now was decorated with pretty flower beds.
Entrance to the castle was free, and we crossed a drawbridge to enter. Then we amused ourself into the afternoon, walking along the castle walls, looking down at the murky river far below and the tiny boats in it. We spied a boat which had a pizzeria aboard.
One of the turrets had previously been used as a prison, and a sign told us that up to sixty people at a time had been locked into the small round cornerless room in which we stood, inhaling the smell of damp and fumbling with cameras. Castles do have a particular smell of the past, of cold stone and ancient forgotten memories.
There was a chapel in the confinement of the castle walls. It was empty and cold, stripped of it's interior furniature. It had also previously been used as a prison, but the glass windows had been restored with modern designs- colourful glass attempting unsuccessfully to purge the place of it's atmosphere of quiet suffering.
After our castle-tour, we crossed over the brown river and found a fun fair. Colourful tarpaulins dripping with the rain of a previous shower covered many of the attractions. We bought churros and crepes from a stall, and a grumpy gypsy informed us that the fair would open in twenty minutes.
We walked around the quiet fair, watching it slowly awaken. Goldfish flitted and flashed in tanks, ready to be won as prizes. Alice said she was too stuffed full of churros to go on any rides so we moved on to explore the town.
The cathedral was huge and massively impressive, with a great organ- Alice said the largest she had ever seen, and she is quite a church enthusiast. I am not a church enthusiast, so I won't go into minute details about the church's interior- you shall have to go and see it for yourself- but i liked the way the gorgeous two-towered building was positioned at the top of a flight of stone steps. Ascending those steps, drawn to the huge wooden door, one felt a sense of the inevitable and one's powerlessness and awe before this magnificient piece of architecture- or before God if you prefer.
In the town centre we wandered into the local Monoprix, and played with the testers for longer than was reasonably acceptable. I left the place having bought a turquoise nailvarnish and a black eyeliner crayon, and with my face smeared with lime green and black makeup.
Of course we did other things, cups of tea, chips in a takeaway, an arty cafe, discusion of mutual aquaintances and paragliding, an exhibition of persian rugs, and Alice divulging details of the society of which she is president- the nerd society!
But i'll leave it there. Of course- any questions for me on any subject and you are most welcome to leave a comment.
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