Becoming invisible happens gradually and is seemingly related to becoming older. One day you find yourself invited to another wedding and you are seated on the fringes of the event, no longer at one of the top tables. As the children of the distant relatives seated around you become bored and run more amok it comes clearer to you that despite your interesting life, which you only need the merest invitation to recount, you are now assigned to the outer circles of events to which previously you were an important guest.
As I walked through the morning market recently in Agen, following behind Aurelia and her friend Eva, taking pictures I was again reminded how younger people no longer “see” the older, how age apparently makes you increasingly invisible until finally when visibly very old you are recognised once again, but this time with a kind of a patient indulgence.
But what people don’t know, how could they, is the wonder of the lives that Eva and Aurelia have lived.
Eva with her Czech mother and Russian father who declined Stalin’s invitation to return home and instead sought asylum in Sweden where she lived from 4 to 20 years of age, speaks Russian, Czech, Swedish, French, Dutch, English, and Italian, has travelled the world and spent her career with the European Space Agency
Aurelia whose grand father served in the Spanish army in Santiago de Cuba and whose father and his 5 siblings were born in Cuba, speaks Spanish, French, English, Portuguese and Italian has been a rally driver, an ocean sailor and spent her career with the European Commission in Brussels.
And here they are strolling the Sunday market somewhat invisible, but with a lifetime of profound experiences and wonderful stories
We returned to Eva’s home, designed by her husband and built on a hill outside Agen.
Eva is recently widowed after 43 years of marriage to Simone a Dutchman, Aurelia for 5 years, having married Jorge a Spaniard twice, but that is another story. They prepared an excellent meal from our shopping expeditions to the market.
As we reached the end of the meal and two bottles of wine they reminisced on the years they had lived separately in Rome. They were in hilarious agreement about well dressed, macho southern Italian men, that they were attractive, fun, charming, amusing and serially a worthwhile experience. But only to be enjoyed as an entertainment, as they always went home to their mothers at the weekend and eventually married their fiancees. Aurelia told a story of her first “real kiss” at 16 years of age in Rome with Giuglio, under a tree in al Piazzalle delle Muse and how on returning to the Piazelle 50 years and a life with it’s joys and sorrows later, she and the tree are still standing.
The next day we went to a Michelin starred restaurant and for €32 each and the price of a bottle of wine had an excellent meal in a tree shaded, sun dappled, walled garden opposite the restaurant, better remembered by not being photographed.
I wish I had a way to tell all those people busy in the market about the wonderful lives of these two beautiful ladies, with adventures, histories and stories better than a lot of fiction, so I am telling you instead.
We said goodbye to Eva.
And as we drove away I realised how lucky we were to spend those days together.
My conclusion, as the first acorns fall from the trees and crack underfoot, if you are fortunate to be born the best thing to do is dance.
Hasta La Victoria Siempre
John