I wasn't sure where best to place this. "Holiday" is a bit general; "Establishment which sells drinks" would be accurate, but misses the point. Church it is then:
A few seconds after arriving at Taizé, Burgundy, on May 17th, 1987, having ridden from the Channel in 3 days. Just before leaving I'd telephoned to check a few things, and mentioned what I planned to do. As I sat down on the bench, a young monk walked across, smiling. "You made it, then!" he said, and at my request, took my photograph.
A strange thing. Where are the people? In my memory every bench was always full.