Epiphany Sunday feast and an unexpected visitor

There were only two down people present for the Epiphany Sunday Sung Eucharist, and almost all of them came into Church House afterwards for mulled wine and mince pies. Mulled wine was my task. I'd bought some cartons of Spanish Jumilla, as it's good and fruity, and I know it's made use of for gluhwein in parts of Germany. Mixed with about a third jus de pomme, with honey and Clare's spice bags, it turned out well, and was heaty enough in taste not to need fortification with cognac, like the mincemeat. Several people brought food contributions, a pizza, savoury pastries, even an entire Christmas cake left untouched from Christmas festivities. 

While we were getting ourselves organised, several people set to and un-decorated the tree, and put away the Christmas candelabra brackets and other accoutrements which had made the church look so good and seasonally welcoming. Then we had an enjoyable hour of relaxed eating and chatting, with just enough food and wine to go around.

While we were together, we were joined by a young woman who called herself Natalya, born in Russia, raised n France, estranged from her parents since she left home. I think she came into church during or after the service, and then came into the house after the others. She said she was an artist, trying to earn a living from her work. She'd lost whatever job and accommodation she'd had, and had spent several months 'couch surfing' as it's called today, but had been told that she couldn't stay any longer and didn't know what to do next. 

She didn't appear unkempt, like a rough sleeper, but all her possessions fitted into a rucksack and a cloth bag. She was hungry and tired, and grateful for an offer of food and drink. She talked to me and the churchwardens in turn non stop for another half an hour after our guests had left. More than anything she was isolated and lonely, I suspect.

Finding a place for her to stay on a Sunday evening in January was bound to be difficult. She had a French passport but no work permit, therefore no entitlement to social services in Switzerland. Not that there aren't places that'll take in people sans-papiers as they call it around here, but places that do are not quite the kind of places you'd willingly send a vulnerable young woman, who may have had mental health issues or complex life problems, as well as no visible means of support. 

Several enquiries drew the same conclusion, there wasn't a way to find her the kind of help she may need on a Sunday afternoon. After a long conversation with Neil, he took her to his family's ski chalet in the Alpes Vaudois to fend for herself in safety and security for a few days, to afford her an opportunity to work out exactly what she wants to do hereafter. Not the best solution, maybe, as there'd be nobody to keep an eye on her regularly, in case she had other needs. She seems, however, to be a survivor, used to coping on her own. Let's just hope this respite is enough to enable her to look a little further ahead in her life than the evening of each day.

Once everyone had left us, there was still enough daylight time left to go for a walk, so we headed along the lakeside path to the Chateau de Chillon and arrived just as it was closing, so we vowed we would return on the morrow, and walked on as far as the Villenuve lakeside piscine publique, before

turning around. We arrived back at Church House just as the lights of evening began to shine.

Later, another episode of McMafia on BBC One. Still more elegantly delivered nastiness. Not sure if this all adds up to anything to learn from, or is just another filmic outing into the realm of posh melodrama with a Russian accent. Give me gritty sordid 'Spiral' any day.

Montreux bank holidays

New Year's day was quieter than a Sunday. It was mild and sunny with clouds until sunset, when it began to rain. In the afternoon I walked the lakeside path as far as the Chateau de Chillon with my camera, and got a decent close up photo of a bird I couldn't identify swimming off-shore. A flock of a hundred or so Scaup were swimming together nearby. This is an aquatic bird I hadn't come across until I identified a few of them among the Coots and Mallards on the rio Aguas in Mojacar back in November. I wonder if the birds live here or are spending the winter here, or just passing through?

In the evening I watched the New Year's Day concert from Vienna, always a favourite, and even more so now we've sailed on the not so blue Danube, seen Vienna, and the Vienna Woods slipping past. It prompted me to take another look at my on-line album of cruise photos, and realise just how little of Vienna we'd seen in our packed day's visit. Hopefuly, there'll be another time.

Then I watched first episode of McMafia inspired by a novel of Misha Glenny. It's a dramatic exposée of the power struggle between different Russian criminal clans. and how this impacts upon the personal life of a second generation British banker of Russian parentage. It's a stylish portrayal of the lifestyle of the super-rich after the manner of the film of Le Carre's 'The Night Manager'. It's complex and a little slow moving, which makes me wonder if it's making sense to me. Early days, however.

Today was another 'quiet as a Sunday' sort of day, being a second Swiss public holiday in a row. It walked into town to see if anything was open, and found several restaurants, cafés and convenience stores were open, not that I needed anything, as I'd stocked up before the weekend. I walked up into the old time, and discovered several old streets and alleys I hadn't found before. I walked back past the ancient Parish Church of St Vincent Veytaux, and took another photo of it with the vineyard in the foreground, now in winter wear, denuded of leaves. The church was open, and the sanctuary was host to an unusual nativity scene.

The figures were cardboard cut-outs, which had been minimally decorated by a local artist who had also written an interpretation of the intended symbolism of the scene from his viewpoint which was displayed alongside the nativity scene in the spacious sanctuary of the church. In common with many other reformed mediaeval church buildings there's almost no furnishing in the chancel and sanctuary, just a simple Communion Table at the entrance. The simplicity of the space is enhanced by stained glass window light. It's a delightful building, with a timeless feel to it, and it's such a contrast to the glitzy cosmopolitan streets down below on the lakeside.

Later, I watched episode two of McMafia. I'm still not sure I've got a grip on the plot-lines, or if I'll have the patience to watch the third episode on Sunday next.