The nights sleep had done little to lift my mood. And I went about my day's preparation slowly, listless, despondant.
I had to get up early as it was, because I needed to ring up Bethel and find out where the local Kingdom Hall was. I was put through to a nice gentleman who spoke good english, and we worked out that the nearest congregation was in Étaples, the hall in a town 2km from there called Trepied. He could only give me the address and phone number of the hall.
So i rang up the hall, and to my forever gratefulness, there was an answer. Of course it was all in French, and I could only mumble along as best I could. I discovered there was a meeting at dix-neuf heures ce soir. I initially took this for 9:10, but eventually realised that 19:00hrs was meant. I then asked (I hoped) to be able to camp in a brothers yard. To my everlasting amazement, he said no, and that there was a campsite nearby.
Flabbergasted, I stuttered some unintelligable French, upon which the brother said goodbye and hung up. I assumed that he had to get on with the ministry group. But it left me in a negative frame of mind. An uplifting of my mood only came when I received various txts from people, and I heard the final song of an album called "Underdogs" by Matthew Good Band.
In the end I put it all down to a tired version of the third day blues. So I packed up, and set off for a very easy 15km flat ride to Trepied, via Étaples. It was great weather, and was only on the road for an hour.
To my extreme suprise, I found the Kingdom Hall almost instantly, and in that moment, with the sun shining down, I took the photo above, and all was okay in the world.
I had half-hoped to randomly meet someone there, but after waiting 15mins, left a note in terrible french to the effect of:
"Expect an english brother tonight. I look forward to the meeting. My phone number is ***********. I am staying at the Parc du Soleil. Please excuse my rubbish French."
Then I went off to find the campsite. It was easily done, and in setting up, I was helped out by the sweetest old lady, staying in a caravan opposite me. She lent me her rubber hammer, then in the sweetest gesture of the journey so gar, practically forced a blanket on me, believing that I would be cold that night. No matter how I pleaded, she was determined to put it in my hands, until I explained it was a small tent, and there was no space. "Vous êtes très gentille."
I cycled back into Étaples, uploaded the pictures, and wrote up the first 2 days, of this journal. Again, the emails helped so much. 2 hours thus well spent, I bought the next Michellin Map I would need - 304, and rushed back to get ready for the meeting.
Shaving was a nightmare, but the meeting meant so much to me, it was worth it. Having bust my other lenses, I put in the last pair, and after getting ready, checked the image in the mirror. Good-looking!
I must have looked a sight, cycling on that road, short-sleeved white shirt, tie blowing in the wind, cycle-clips on my trousers. And thanks to a badly chosen shortcut, I arrived just as they were about to start the prayer, sweating like crazy.
I was taken under the wing by a nice sister called Laure Charbon, who tried her best in 10-year old learnt english to interpret various things for me. I even answered up, it was the Revelation book study, one word "l'humanité". Probably taking some little kids answer. But it received a warm reception, and that was to continue after the meeting had ended. Everyone came up to shake my hand, and we tried our best to make each other understood. On the way out, a nice lady asked me if I had eaten, and I stupidly said no!
I cycled home with wings, and a spring in my step. I went to bed tired, but very happy. A BREAKTHROUGH DAY!