Retrospective: Pippin Explores the Old Cloister

In the same 2006 trip where lots of family came, my sister and I went exploring to an old cloister (still operational) that was within walking distance of the bed and breakfast we were staying in.

We accidentally came in the wrong way, through a charming old graveyard, the kind with the overarching trees and the lush grass and the worn gravestones with all kinds of barely readable long epitaphs on them. It certainly looked like an official entrance.

It was nice, though, because we got to explore the old no-longer-used buildings on our own rather than being shuffled around with a whole bunch of other people and tour guide squawking at us. I had Pippin with me, in his carry sack.

The amphitheater

This little amphitheater was my sister's favorite spot. She wanted to sit and meditate for a while, so while she did that, I got bored and let Pippin out to explore. He had a harness and leash on, so if he got scared I wouldn't lose him.

Pippin, intrepid explorer

Pippin was slow to get started, as usual. Since everything was scary when it was new, even after I'd mostly gotten him over his scaredy cat reactions, it would take him a little while to start exploring things.

Trying out a bench for size

But once he started exploring, he usually had a lot of fun.

Pretending he's a prowling kitty

 The benches, unbeknownst to me, were hollow underneath. I suppose if I knew about construction techniques I would have known at once that they had to be; no one would waste that much wood making them solid. But I didn't realize it, and Pippin found this out before I did. Because you see, the ends of the benches are open, so he could go inside them!

Just a little bit left outside the bench

He crawled underneath the bench since it was an excellent hiding spot, and did so before I realized what he was about. Now you'll notice in the pictures that show the whole bench ... it's not particularly wide. Or tall. So a large cat can't turn around.

He's stuck. I had to drag him out slowly by the harness. This resulted in a cat with a tummy full of dead leaves, sticks, and other natural detritus. And of course I hadn't thought far enough ahead to bring his comb. This is a normal problem of mine ... even though I try to think ahead, I always miss the most obvious stuff.

My sister, being slightly more careful of her own appearance than I, had a comb in her purse. It was her comb for her own hair, but she very graciously allowed me to use it on Pippin. And although I did my best, sitting on the bench with Pippin undignified and upside down in my lap, to pull all the debris out by hand, I really needed the comb for the small stuff.

And Pippin, his usual calm self, put up with all of this without a wiggle or wince.