It's all change at The Montpellier National Orchestra
FILMS , MUSIC, DRAMA AND ART
It occurred to us recently that we have lived in our current home for longer than either of us has ever lived anywhere else, be it in England, Wales or Southern Africa. As we drive between the local town and our village I reflect on the changes that have occurred. New vineyards and olive trees have been planted, and modern houses constructed, while older ones sometimes lie abandoned. The Old Auberge Martin(see La Route Royale) appears even more ramshackle than ever, totally deserted ever since its elderly occupants died. Shutters are falling off, and fraying net curtains flap in the breeze where windows have come way from their hinges. There is a lady who walks daily along this road. Where once she strode out energetically, and smiled at passing cars, she is now frail and bent over her stick. Moreover, all the elders of our village who used to gather on a roadside bench have now died. The last to leave us was Mme B. who once sold olives. She never had time for a gossip, but could be seen every day as she walked to tend her chickens with a bucket of feed. Indeed time passes imperceptibly, until suddenly, we take stock.