Tucked away, in the village of St. Front, there is a lovely little 12th century church. I wandered through it, and was allowed to look behind the altar, and into the vestry (where the priests go to change into their cassocks!). There were no priests changing, when I poked my head in the room, only a couple of guys who were doing maintenance. They were putting dark paper on the insides of the windows, preparing for a concert that was to take place in a couple of days.
One of the men was kind enough to unlock the door to the bell tower, and show it to me. The stairs were small and steep, and wound tightly around and around. There was quite a bit of dust and dirt on the steps, making secure footing a bit challenging, but I managed to climb them to the tower top, without too much fuss. Once there, I gazed out, onto peaceful views of the village, nearby pastures and farms. This is God’s land: the very place where many of France’s sumptuous, creamy cheeses come from.