More time for friends

We were invited out both for lunch and supper today, to meet with old friends and congregation members of Holy Trinity Church. It was such a pleasure to catch up with people in the relaxed atmosphere of Alec's and Anne-Marie's beautiful garden at the opposite end of Meyrin from where we are staying. Although we have been there many times over the years, even since leaving Geneva, we had difficulty finding our way there, simply because their neighbour's garden, where you turn off the access road, has now sprung a large  high white fence, transforming the landmarks we'd got used to. 

It made me realise how much we rely on things looking the same. And of course things change not infrequently - particular where roads are concerned. The route de Meyrin out of the city centre all the way to the French border is essentially the same as it's been for at least the past half century, but navigation now requires great caution, as the centre section of the road is occupied by tram lines and stops, with additional sets of lights to give trams and buses priority. I hope this means it's safer for everyone.

In the evening we drove over to Versiox where Yvette had invited us to dine with mutual friends Andrea and Peter, who lived in a neighbouring apsrtment block before moving to Scarborough several years ago. We spend a couple of holidays looking after their apartment while they were away in those days. There's a collection of identical style apartment blocks located either side of the railway line at Pont Céard station, and finding the street was no bother. When we came to park however, we had both forgotten which side of the railway station the apartments are located - yet it's only three or four years since we were last here. 

The penny soon dropped, and very soon we were welcomed and installed for a lovely evening of more catching up. There's hardly ever opportunity to reminisce, as there's so much to tell about what's been happening as years whizz by. Maybe the time for reminiscence is when you become so inactive that looking back is only thing you have left to do.