Cahors, not quite awake !

05.15 am and it is still dark !  With an early morning appointment in Cahors I wearily slid out of bed at silly ‘o’ clock to get everything done I needed to do before leaving. It was just me in the dark, no birds sang, they were all still sleeping along with  our guests. I wandered down and switched on the outside lights to enable me to do the jobs I would normally do in the early hours of daylight, seemed a bit wierd cleaning in the darkness of the early morn, but so, so calm.  I arrived in Cahors just turned 07.30 am. it was not that busy, it felt as if the town was rubbing its eyes and stretching out of it’s sleepy slumber. As I walked along the Boulevard Gambetta,  there was a wierd  smell which I did not recognise at all, not awful, but not that nice either.  Normally the street is filled with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee, but the cafés were not yet open and there was hardly anyone around.  The few people I did pass were delivery men, with a clinging odour of their sleepy night and stale cigarettes, not too pleasant.  As I walked along, the early morning sunshine glinted from behind the clouds between the buildings in the side streets, creating interesting shadows, their forms changing from one moment to the next as I watched. A couple of hours later Cahors had awoken, what a difference. As I walked back towards my car, once again along the Boulevard Gambetta, a gentle early morning hustle and bustle had begun.  People sat outside  the cafés busily chatting with one another, the beautiful aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the street blended with beautiful different perfumes worn by the ladies sitting outside, it smelt so good. I remember the times when it smelt of coffee and cigarettes ! I noticed that the fountains by the statue Leon Gambetta were still not working,  shame, the water always looks so pretty glistening & sparkling in the sunshine. Only the occasional car horn and noisy motorbike drew me out of my reverie, it was a beautiful morning. As I walked along I passed a man playing his guitar, his little dog curled up beside him and a collection hat infront of him.   Further up the road I could hear loud singing, not at all pitch perfect, but the voice of someone who was simply, happy, happy happy.  As I continued the owner of the voice came into view,   a man of foreign origin was busy at work clearing leaves with a long handled dustpan and brush, he had ear plugs tucked into his ears and was  singing out so loudly along to his music  without a care in the world.  He actually made me feel happier than I already was, it was liberating to see him in his yellow uniform, working and singing away as if he was the only man on the street.   I have never seen or heard that that before, so often people are gumpy, they certainly never smile or sing.  He looked up at me as  I passed,  I gave him a smile & bid him a very friendly and happy Bonjour, he had made me smile.  He returned a beaming smile, his teeth so white, shining like pearls against the darkness of his skin, his eyes bright within the contours of his face.  At this moment in time he was an  incredibly happy man, I guess maybe feeling fortunate to be doing what he was doing.  My wish for him is that he never looses his happiness & his singing fills the streets of Cahors always.  Next fo me it was shopping in LeClercs and Lidls, and oh my goodness, back to the reality of life in just a short car ride.  Both shops were busy, but only with French people all with local car plates, very few foreign cars.  And this year there are not that many British tourists in our area this year, very strange ?!!!!!!!!!  On entering the supermarket I walked into a wall of noise, oh my goodness,  there were so many unhappy screaming children, those that were not screaming,  were having a very serious moment; their body language stiff and angry and their faces contorted with rage.  Their parent’s deeply embarrassed as they tried nicely to smooth over the temper tantrums.  The noise was mind-blowing, high pitched squeals and screeches were flying around the shop, with parent’s voices becoming louder and louder shouting over their children’s mind exploding screams.  It was simply torture for all of us in the shop, painful to our ears as the high pitched sounds sliced through the tops of our heads, it really was that bad !   Those poor Mummies and Daddies,  I really felt for them, so hard to defuse a moment like that.    I could not get back to the peace and quiet of my car quickly enough, my head was pounding and the children had nothing to do with me !  I started my engine and steered my lovely little car in the direction of home,  back to the peace and tranquillity of Lacomté,  “Heavenly Paradise”.  Have a great evening everyone.

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