My last day in Nîmes, I woke up just knowing there was no way I would ever make my train. Stepping into the post office as soon as it opened, I confirmed this fear. The post woman was trying to choose the prettiest stamps for me, which was kind, but rather time consuming especially when you have a train you want to catch. Then there was the matter of transporting my large suitcase, small suitcase, and backpack to the train station. Ticket exchanged, I was on my way to Taizé. At Mâcon, I started talking to an older woman waiting in the bus area. I learned she was blind and needed help reading the bus schedule, which led to an hour long discussion on the history of the region; the Abbey of Cluny, highly influential during the Medieval era, and the general presence of religious power in the region throughout history, the powerful duc de Bourgogne, and the landscape. As the bus pulled up, a friend of hers arrived, her old hairdresser. Her friend pointed out many of the landmarks the woman had spoken to me about on the bus, such as the rock formation President Mitterand climbed at Pentecost while he was president. Her friend convinced me to get off the bus at Cluny to have a tour of the area. I got to see the Abbey de Cluny, an old church, and so many gorgeous landscapes. O, and the woman’s family castle she was trying to sell, because no big deal, she just happened to own a freaking CASTLE. We stopped and took a walk through the hills with the friend’s dog before the friend dropped me off at Taizé, exhausted, yet pleased with the turn of events and my unexpected friends.
And if I hadn’t missed that train? I suppose everything does happen for a reason.