Another Geneva visit

We were up at five this morning, then in a taxi on the way to the station at six, for a train/Bus to Bristol Airport. As the airport was fairly quiet, we dropped off our case and were through security and into the departure area by ten to eight. The flight to Geneva left ten minutes early and landed twenty minutes ahead of schedule. Our friend Gill was waiting for us as we walk into the arrivals area. It was one of the quickest and smoothest trips we've ever had. 

Our friend Manel, with whom we are staying, cooked us a superb Sri Lankan lunch to welcome us back. I'm here to conduct a memorial service on Saturday for our old friend Peter, who was such a stalwart member of the Geneva English community and church for so many years. After I'd unpacked and changed, I left Clare to take a siesta, and walked into town to Cornavin station to take a train out to Coppet, where I was to be picked up by Julia's husband Philippe for a visit at their home outside of Divonne les Bains. Half of Cornavin station is currently being re-built. The eastern block of the station buildings has been demolished leaving only the stone facade, propped up but a giant steel frame. Finding ticket offices and information services was a challenge, as re-direction notices were unusually lacking. Nevertheless, as usual, trains ran on time. In next to no time I was sitting chatting in the afternoon sun out in Philippe's magnificent garden, catching up on all that's happened since we were here last summer.

Julia belongs to an ecumenical pastors group in the Pays de Gex, an initiaitve of the very conservative diocesan Bishop of Belley-Ars. She's the only Anglican, and the only woman in the group, as well as being a priest. Next week she has to give an introductory presentation on Anglicansm to the group, and asked me to look at it with her. It was an interesting and enjoyable experience, reminding me of ecumenical encounters of a similar kind which were part of my life as a Geneva chaplain. In those days, fifteen years ago, my French was not nearly as good as Julia's, and was the source of much amusement I suspect. She has spent most of her adult life in a francophone context, so it was a pleasure to read her written text. In fact, I enjoy being back in a francophone environment again, even if the reading matter brought with me is a Spanish language textbook to prepare for my time in the Costa Azahar chaplaincy.