To Maastricht this morning, to the European Institute of Public Administration, for a business meeting. Once the meeting was over we had to wait a few minutes for our minibus back and so we nipped into the ancient church opposite, the Onze-Lieve-Vrouwebasiliek (Basilica of Our Lady), for a quick visit. An organist was practising on the fine organ (picture). Maybe it was because we were close to lunchtime, but I found myself transported back almost half a century to St Joseph’s church, Harrow Weald, at about a quarter-past midday, after sung Sunday mass. Though we boys were by now ravenously hungry (though not because we had to fast – we were considered too young for that) and the Sunday roast awaited us at home, my mother would always keep us waiting, talking to friends and neighbours. The church had a reasonable organist, Mrs Bowers, an older, long-skirted lady, and at times quite a good choir. Whenever I realised that we were not going to make a quick getaway I always slunk back into the church because I had discovered that when everybody was leaving Mrs Bowers started to let her hair down and she always, always finished with some deep base notes – the equivalent of power chords on an electric guitar – that made the furniture and my stomach rumble and buzz most enjoyably. In her own sweet way, that little old lady rocked!