I would rather have a German division in front of me than a French one behind me.
- General George S. Patton
Saturday, July 24, 2010
Hilarious
I gotta share this while it's fresh in my memory, it was the most hilarious thing I have seen in a long time... tonight I had dinner at an outdoors restaurant, and at the table next to me were a lady and two young frogs. They had with them an absolutely ginormous dog, some kind of pointer, but it was much bigger than normal. His name was Toto, and he was ten and an absolute charmer, he was walking around and letting himself be petted and occasionally begging food from other guests (I got special status when I gave him the rest of my omelette).
At another table was this tiny little dog, no more than a speck of white against the asphalt, a mere mouthful for Toto. And yet, when Toto walked over to say hello to the little fella, he went up on his hind legs, clawing the air with his paws and barking like mad, virtually foaming at the mouth. Toto just gave him a look like "what's YOUR problem" and retreated to safety. Everybody in the restaurant were howling with laughter at the sight of this gentle giant and the rabid little thing trying to get at him... if he'd been let loose, it would have been the shortest fight ever.
At another table was this tiny little dog, no more than a speck of white against the asphalt, a mere mouthful for Toto. And yet, when Toto walked over to say hello to the little fella, he went up on his hind legs, clawing the air with his paws and barking like mad, virtually foaming at the mouth. Toto just gave him a look like "what's YOUR problem" and retreated to safety. Everybody in the restaurant were howling with laughter at the sight of this gentle giant and the rabid little thing trying to get at him... if he'd been let loose, it would have been the shortest fight ever.
Friday, July 23, 2010
Quote of the Day
We can stand here like the French, or we can do something about it.
- Marge Simpson
- Marge Simpson
Thursday, July 22, 2010
Quote of the Day
Frenchmen are like grains of gunpowder - each by itself smutty and contemptible, but mass them together and they are terrible indeed.
- Samuel Coleridge
- Samuel Coleridge
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
Quote of the Day
In Paris they simply stared when I spoke to them in French; I never did succeed in making those idiots understand their language.
- Mark Twain
- Mark Twain
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
Monday, July 19, 2010
Status report from Aniane
Ever since the yanks left I've been in a slight funk. Not left the house much except to buy essentials; spent a lot of time reading, surfing the net and just plain sleeping. Today I got the news that my Norwegian friend had had her flight cancelled, so she's coming tomorrow and leaving Friday instead. Gah.
I've been taking my lunches and dinners at either of the two eateries along the main square, L'Esplanade, but it's difficult to make contact when absofuckinlutely no one seems to speak any English. The waiters and waitresses are all very nice, but try and address them in English and they get this panicky deer-in-headlights look. Two waiters seem to speak a little English, but apart from the names of various foodstuff they don't have much to contribute either.
Fortunately, today I was introduced by a neighbor (and the designed "fixer" of all things pertaining to the house) to a couple of people who spoke some English; a German guy who's been living in France for 12 years, and a French lady who'd visited West Virginia for a couple of weeks when she was 18... both nice people, and all three seemed to understand that it was difficult to cope when you didn't have family or friends around and didn't speak French. I hope this initial meeting will turn into something more, though, and that I can gather around me a small crowd of English-speaking frogs (and krauts).
A couple of other, random observations...
- The French seem to love children. No matter how rough and rowdy they may look on the outside, they seem to brighten up and go into immediate goo-goo mode when presented with a drooling little sack of poop, aka a child. Naturally, this only heightens my suspicions about the intelligence and moral fibre of the French.
- As mentioned here a couple of times, the square tends to fill up with small dogs. All the dogs in town seem to know each other, so there's never any fighting, but every so often some switch will turn on in the minuscule brain of one of them and they will go off on an extended howling session, soon joined by all the other dogs in town. This usually lasts for around 30 seconds, and the French seem impervious to it, but it's bloody annoying.
- I've taken to noticing a lot of regulars who will come to one or the other of the two places on the esplanade and drink their fill in a night's course. I've deliberately tried to alternate between the two, and I've been tipped about two other eateries as well, slightly more upscale from what I've heard.
I'll leave you with a couple of pics:
This little fella is the dog of the cook at the smallest of the places on the esplanade. He's ten years old and we became bestestestest buddies when I shared my ham sandwhich with him.
This little guy got a piece of my omelette later tonight. He thanked me by setting off a choir of frantic barking a couple of minutes later.
The moon over the square.
This picture is just wrong in so, so many ways. Condoms and nutella... *head in hands*
I've been taking my lunches and dinners at either of the two eateries along the main square, L'Esplanade, but it's difficult to make contact when absofuckinlutely no one seems to speak any English. The waiters and waitresses are all very nice, but try and address them in English and they get this panicky deer-in-headlights look. Two waiters seem to speak a little English, but apart from the names of various foodstuff they don't have much to contribute either.
Fortunately, today I was introduced by a neighbor (and the designed "fixer" of all things pertaining to the house) to a couple of people who spoke some English; a German guy who's been living in France for 12 years, and a French lady who'd visited West Virginia for a couple of weeks when she was 18... both nice people, and all three seemed to understand that it was difficult to cope when you didn't have family or friends around and didn't speak French. I hope this initial meeting will turn into something more, though, and that I can gather around me a small crowd of English-speaking frogs (and krauts).
A couple of other, random observations...
- The French seem to love children. No matter how rough and rowdy they may look on the outside, they seem to brighten up and go into immediate goo-goo mode when presented with a drooling little sack of poop, aka a child. Naturally, this only heightens my suspicions about the intelligence and moral fibre of the French.
- As mentioned here a couple of times, the square tends to fill up with small dogs. All the dogs in town seem to know each other, so there's never any fighting, but every so often some switch will turn on in the minuscule brain of one of them and they will go off on an extended howling session, soon joined by all the other dogs in town. This usually lasts for around 30 seconds, and the French seem impervious to it, but it's bloody annoying.
- I've taken to noticing a lot of regulars who will come to one or the other of the two places on the esplanade and drink their fill in a night's course. I've deliberately tried to alternate between the two, and I've been tipped about two other eateries as well, slightly more upscale from what I've heard.
I'll leave you with a couple of pics:
This little fella is the dog of the cook at the smallest of the places on the esplanade. He's ten years old and we became bestestestest buddies when I shared my ham sandwhich with him.
This little guy got a piece of my omelette later tonight. He thanked me by setting off a choir of frantic barking a couple of minutes later.
The moon over the square.
This picture is just wrong in so, so many ways. Condoms and nutella... *head in hands*
Quote of the Day
I have tried to lift France out of the mud. But she will return to her errors and vomitings. I cannot prevent the French from being French.
- Charles de Gaulle
- Charles de Gaulle
Sunday, July 18, 2010
Quote of the Day
"The only time France wants us to go to war is when the German Army is sitting in Paris sipping coffee."
- Regis Philbin
- Regis Philbin
Saturday, July 17, 2010
Quote of the Day
Going to war without France is like going deer hunting without your accordion.
- Norman Schwartzkopf
- Norman Schwartzkopf
Friday, July 16, 2010
Random observations from a restaurant visit in Aniane
- In France it takes longer to get the check than to get your food served.
- I love the terror on the faces of French waiters and waitresses when I address them in English. I have found a total of ONE guy who speaks something resembling passable English in this town, but he wasn't working tonight.
- The food here ain't half bad. The omelette tonight was good and the crepe was juicy. I am going to eat my way through their dessert menu in the next three weeks. It's a tough job, but somebody's gotta do it.
- There are lots of pretty women here, but the table next to mine tonight looked like someone had shaken the ugly tree.
- As I have mentioned before, there are lots of little dogs roaming the town. One litte fella was more than content to sit and get petted by yours truly for several minutes tonight. Sadly I didn't bring my camera.
- My newest, deepest, probably totally irrational fear is that some French guy will try and kiss me three times on the cheeks. I'll mace the fucker before he can make first contact, I swear.
- I love the terror on the faces of French waiters and waitresses when I address them in English. I have found a total of ONE guy who speaks something resembling passable English in this town, but he wasn't working tonight.
- The food here ain't half bad. The omelette tonight was good and the crepe was juicy. I am going to eat my way through their dessert menu in the next three weeks. It's a tough job, but somebody's gotta do it.
- There are lots of pretty women here, but the table next to mine tonight looked like someone had shaken the ugly tree.
- As I have mentioned before, there are lots of little dogs roaming the town. One litte fella was more than content to sit and get petted by yours truly for several minutes tonight. Sadly I didn't bring my camera.
- My newest, deepest, probably totally irrational fear is that some French guy will try and kiss me three times on the cheeks. I'll mace the fucker before he can make first contact, I swear.
Quote of the Day
France has never gotten over the fact that it was once a great power and is now just a great nuisance.
- Thomas Sowell
- Thomas Sowell
Saint Guilhem le Desert
No, that's not a disease, nor a dish. It is the name of the village we visited on Sunday (the fucked up chronology continues!). It's only ten minutes from Aniane. We walked around and just gazed in marvel at the cozy buildings, narrow streets and the Gellone river, which pretty much runs through the whole place. I think I'll let the pictures do the talking from now on (all of 'em can be found here).
The village square. Several restaurants surround it. Service is slow, but it's worth it just to sit here and people-watch for an hour or two.
This sandwich was the size of my underarm. I had to admit defeat in order to have room for the ice cream later on.
There were ruins of buildings at the very top. I get dizzy just thinking about it.
Sho, sho cozhy...
In my imagination, a hobbit lives behind this door.
If, on the other hand, hobbits lived on the second floor, he would live here:
The monastery has its own vinyard... this sure ain't Norway.
This is how I prefer my religion - locked up.
The river Gellone runs under the effin city hall.
It also provides water to the numerous drinking fountains that can be found all over the village. My guess is that in earlier days, this was the city's sewer system.
In a slowmoving part of the river, they had fish. Lots and lots of fish.
Of course, this wouldn't be France unless people behaved like animals.
Pont Diable. One of fuck knows how many in France. There are several alternative versions of how this bridge came into being. I think it was built around 1030. The surrounding area is the preferred bathing place for the local populace.
These little fuckers can be heard all over Italy and the south of France. They play incessantly and loudly.
The village square. Several restaurants surround it. Service is slow, but it's worth it just to sit here and people-watch for an hour or two.
This sandwich was the size of my underarm. I had to admit defeat in order to have room for the ice cream later on.
There were ruins of buildings at the very top. I get dizzy just thinking about it.
Sho, sho cozhy...
In my imagination, a hobbit lives behind this door.
If, on the other hand, hobbits lived on the second floor, he would live here:
The monastery has its own vinyard... this sure ain't Norway.
This is how I prefer my religion - locked up.
The river Gellone runs under the effin city hall.
It also provides water to the numerous drinking fountains that can be found all over the village. My guess is that in earlier days, this was the city's sewer system.
In a slowmoving part of the river, they had fish. Lots and lots of fish.
Of course, this wouldn't be France unless people behaved like animals.
Pont Diable. One of fuck knows how many in France. There are several alternative versions of how this bridge came into being. I think it was built around 1030. The surrounding area is the preferred bathing place for the local populace.
These little fuckers can be heard all over Italy and the south of France. They play incessantly and loudly.
Thursday, July 15, 2010
Montpellier
To make a complete mess of the chronology, let me now jump forward one day to Tuesday, which was spent in Montpellier, a city of appx 265,000 people. The city centre is quite compact and rather charming, with both narrow streets and open spaces in abundance. You can view all the Montpellier pics here.
Some strange, architectural contraption near the Place de la Comedie, which is the focal point of the city.
The Three Graces fountain in the Place de la Comedie.
Cool housepaintings.
An Arc de Triomphe, based on one in Paris. This one is called Porte de Peyrou.
They had a big parade for the local firemen of the region. Good thing nothing was burning that day...
Louis 14th.
A sculpture in the park near the Place de la Comedie.
These numbskulls were out walking their tiny kitten. Very friendly and trusting little fella, he will probably have been trampled underfoot within a week.
Cozy Montpellier street.
Some strange, architectural contraption near the Place de la Comedie, which is the focal point of the city.
The Three Graces fountain in the Place de la Comedie.
Cool housepaintings.
An Arc de Triomphe, based on one in Paris. This one is called Porte de Peyrou.
They had a big parade for the local firemen of the region. Good thing nothing was burning that day...
Louis 14th.
A sculpture in the park near the Place de la Comedie.
These numbskulls were out walking their tiny kitten. Very friendly and trusting little fella, he will probably have been trampled underfoot within a week.
Cozy Montpellier street.
Aniane
Continuing backwards in time I thought I'd post a few pictures of the donkey race they had here on Monday. Slightly surreal, but the whole town was out in force and we met some nice Swedes (I know I give them a hard time on this blog, but most are actually ok). The Americans were in stitches over the whole concept of racing donkeys and there were more than one joke about the "donkey shows" one can watch in Tijuana... You, on the other hand, can watch all my donkey-related pics here, without fear of permanent retinal damage.
There were races for both children and adults, on the same poor animals. Some of the adults were dressed up; one guy had on the uniform of a Catholic priest, so I assume he was dressed as a child rapist.
The children's race can only be described as charmingly disorganized.
A late contestant... this is one of a number of small dogs that roam the streets all day begging for food, I've encountered him several times over the past few days.
Some extremely bored donkeys.
Frying a shitload of 'taters for the big dinner afterwards.
Absofuckinlutely everybody smokes down here, especially the women.
Donkey poo or the brains of an unfortunate contestant? I'll leave the answer to you, dear reader.
There were races for both children and adults, on the same poor animals. Some of the adults were dressed up; one guy had on the uniform of a Catholic priest, so I assume he was dressed as a child rapist.
The children's race can only be described as charmingly disorganized.
A late contestant... this is one of a number of small dogs that roam the streets all day begging for food, I've encountered him several times over the past few days.
Some extremely bored donkeys.
Frying a shitload of 'taters for the big dinner afterwards.
Absofuckinlutely everybody smokes down here, especially the women.
Donkey poo or the brains of an unfortunate contestant? I'll leave the answer to you, dear reader.
Bastille Day
Ok, time to begin the proper travel blogging... my American friends have left for Paris, so I have plenty of time on my hands. Yesterday was Bastille Day, the French National Day, and we spent it in Carcassonne, where they have a huge firework display every year.
Carcassonne is a charming place, it has been a trading site since Celtic times, and Romans, Visigoths and Saracens have been among the rulers. The castle sits on a hilltop above town and is today one of the best preserved medieval fortresses in the world after extensive renovations in the mid 1800s. It was central during the successful eradication of those supreme idiots, the Cathars in the 13th century (generally, the only thing that can make the Catholic church look good is its competition). All pics of the fortress here and the city here.
The city itself reportedly has about 50,000 inhabitants, but up to 700,000 watch the fireworks. Probably every single one of them were on the road to Narbonne last night, because it took us two and a half hours to get out of the parking lot and onto the freeway. The fireworks lasted about 25 minutes, and you can watch it all here. Some examples below...
Nice, fairytale castle:
Houses with windows and stuff painted on. Cool effect, I saw some of these in Montpellier too.
Fireworks, wheeeeee!
Carcassonne is a charming place, it has been a trading site since Celtic times, and Romans, Visigoths and Saracens have been among the rulers. The castle sits on a hilltop above town and is today one of the best preserved medieval fortresses in the world after extensive renovations in the mid 1800s. It was central during the successful eradication of those supreme idiots, the Cathars in the 13th century (generally, the only thing that can make the Catholic church look good is its competition). All pics of the fortress here and the city here.
The city itself reportedly has about 50,000 inhabitants, but up to 700,000 watch the fireworks. Probably every single one of them were on the road to Narbonne last night, because it took us two and a half hours to get out of the parking lot and onto the freeway. The fireworks lasted about 25 minutes, and you can watch it all here. Some examples below...
Nice, fairytale castle:
Houses with windows and stuff painted on. Cool effect, I saw some of these in Montpellier too.
Fireworks, wheeeeee!
Quote of the Day
Today I said goodbye to my two American friends (they left for Paris on the train).
When good Americans die, they go to Paris.
- Oscar Wilde
When good Americans die, they go to Paris.
- Oscar Wilde
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
Quote of the Day
Today is the Bastille Day, which is France's national day. So I thought I'd give'em a slightly less insulting quote...
That sweet enemy, France.
- Philip Sidney
That sweet enemy, France.
- Philip Sidney
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
Quote of the Day
How can anyone govern a country that has 246 different types of cheese?
- Charles de Gaulle, describing France
- Charles de Gaulle, describing France
Monday, July 12, 2010
Quote of the Day
Three week's worth of French quotes awaits us... muahahahaha!
France is a place where the money falls apart in your hands but you can’t tear the toilet paper.
- Billy Wilder
France is a place where the money falls apart in your hands but you can’t tear the toilet paper.
- Billy Wilder
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