For my first trip to take a service at Sta Eulalia del Rio Anthony, who lives nearby in Cala de Bou, came and joined me and briefed me as we drove on the route, and where to find supermarkets and worthwhile restaurants to visit. The Catholic chapel of Our Lady of Lourdes is in the main street of the town, so it was necessary to find a parking space a few blocks away in the pakringlot near the town's medical centre, and walk there.
We were greeted by Rosi, with a smile and a dob of hand sanitizer. They may be no more than three Covid-19 cases reported on the island, but it's a good idea to change habits early, as long as we are not advised against meeting publicly for worship. The church must care for its own heal and that of people who reach out to it at any time. At the start of the service, Rosi introduced me and informed everyone about withholding the chalice, which I think everyone accepted with understanding.
The chapel's sound system is good but the building resonates with echoes so I had to make an effort to speak slowly, and much closer to the microphone than I am used to at home. Well, practice makes Perfect, I hope! Unusually, there's a time of reflection and sharing by congregation members after the service. I couldn't hear very well from the sanctuary, so next time we're here in two weeks time I will have to sit with the congregation for this. It influences the timing of the service too, so I will have to be much stricter about the length of my homily in future, as we over-ran by fifteen minutes, much to the annoyance of a congregation which was following us, with another of the succession of Sunday services being held there. I spoke with the priest, who sounded more Italian than Spanish. He said he was Catholic, but the use of icons suggested an Eastern rite service. I will be interest to learn more about this.
There were about twenty worshipping together, perhaps half the usual number. It seems the local Latin rite Catholic service before us was seriously down on numbers as well. Afterwards many of the congregation went for a fellowship drink together in a main street bar. Then a smaller group of us drove out of town to the finca in the countryside a few kilometres away, where Sarah lives and was laying on a super Sunday roast lunch for us. A most enjoyable experience accompanied by some lively conversation.
The renovated old farmhouse where she lives is surrounded by vineyards. The soil is a pinkish brown colour, and vine stocks hug the ground. I'd be fascinated to learn what grapes are grown here. Ibiza has grown vines and made wine since the time of the Phoenicians. The vines belong to her nearest neighbour. Sarah has her own fruit trees, a tank holding ornamental carp, some hens and ducks supplying eggs, with flowers everywhere. It's a lovely place to live.
We drove back to Can Bagot late afternoon, and after uploading my photos of the day, it went for a walk as the sun was setting, with the nearly full moon rising above the horizon. A couple of quite different bird calls issued from across the fields and woodland flanking the un-metalled road road on which I walked. No idea what they were. I guess I'll find out eventually. Clare and I chatted for an hour on WhatsApp after I returned to the house. It seems that congregational numbers were down back home at St Catherine's and Sunday School didn't happen. They observed the same precautions as we did. Everyone is keeping an eye on the increasing number of cases across the world, and the word 'pandemic' is now being used in some quarters.
A good day, but it's left me tired enough for an early bed time.
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