For a Madagascar school

A charitable organisation had organised a walk through the Bazens countryside to raise money for a village school in Madagascar.

Forty people gathered at the Domaine de Quissat winery at 9 o'clock on Sunday morning.

Most arrived by car. We had the luxury of sauntering the 800 metres from our place down the hill to Quissat.

Monique, the organiser, explained that the money would help build a canteen. Every morning bare-footed children walked miles to school, on empty stomachs. They arrived tired and hungry and had trouble staying awake through the lessons.

A hearty school breakfast would change all that.

So, with a good cause to walk for, we set off on our eight kilometre perambulation through farmland, forest and by the edge of rural hamlets.

We trudged over clods of recently turned clay; up and down stony hillsides; we took tractor tracks, forest paths and roadways.

By the fields of Chateau du Pecile, we came across an isolated, stone building of no more than 20 square metres. It was on the edge of a paddock, under some trees, with a sweeping view of the valley below.

00

Two carved, stone cherubs flanked the doorway. The interior was bare except for a chair and a small, dust-covered refectory table. An antique, mantle mirror lent against one of the walls. There was a doormat sporting a Union Jack design.

Monique said it was once used for assignations. The walkers sniggered so she hastened to add it was just a joke. I reckon it could've been true.

The impressive Chateau, we were told, once had Australian caretakers. Now it was empty most of the time, its English owners coming out for a couple of months every summer and maybe at Christmas.

We passed under magnificent oak trees and an ancient cypress pine whose massive girth must have been at least five metres, its huge, magnificent branches splayed skyward.

For a while we walked with Luke, a tall, thin, silver-haired Belgian who'd lived in France for 40 years.

He said he had a connection with Madagascar.

Years ago he boarded a student who was studying agriculture at a nearby college.

This young man had left his wife and child behind in Madagascar.

One day the young man appeared quite upset and Luke asked him what the matter was.

He said his wife had contacted him to say that the gas bottle she used for cooking had run out and she didn't have enough money to refill it.

Madagascar is one of the poorest countries in the world.

When the young man's four-month study tour was up, he went back to Madagascar. He used his acquired knowledge to plant a large vegetable garden but every night, people came and stole his produce. All the work he did during the day was undone by these night raids.

The young man and his family migrated to France and he now lectures in tropical agriculture at a large Montpellier college.

He and his family are no longer poor.

When our group of walkers got back to Quissat, we were treated to a tour of the winery and a tasting.

About thirty people stayed on for a picnic lunch. It was one of those long-table-joyous-French-Sunday lunches ... wine and conversation flowed.

When it came time for dessert, the guests brought out their homemade cakes. These were cut up and passed around for all to share. There was a chocolate cake, a banana cake, a lemon cake, a pear cake and other pastry creations.

I fear we were the only couple who didn't bring a cake.

We'll know next time ...

And bring lamingtons.