A professional glass artist in Siena tells me of a prohibitively expensive glass he was once able to use for his only major local commission, a window in the Church of San Cristoforo. The glass is called Golden Rose, and it’s a red so soft it can’t be called red, isn’t pink, but certainly doesn’t advance so far to the other side of the spectrum as to be in any way orange. It’s…
It’s just Golden Rose!
The medieval village of Conques, major stage on the Way of St. James, with its own cult in the person of Sainte-Foy, is Golden Rose. Kind of. Okay, most of the buildings are pinkish, the abbey is a little more yellow, but in some lights, on some days – and always for me – Conques is Golden Rose. (Yeah, I know…I’m over the top about this medieval stuff. So shoot me with a crossbow.)
The approach from the East is not dramatic. There is a long descent in what is almost a ditch. Then some quaint buildings on the outskirts, which are plucked and groomed like all Grade One sites in France. (An untouchable heritage, beyond the abbey Conques is purely a village, with few services, not even a pharmacy.)
We walk down a medieval alley. Don’t those trekking poles clatter in these old alleys!