Jun 26, 2015
bon, les frenchies
une idée de titre pour un blog sur le féminisme?
seen from Türkiye
seen from Peru
seen from China
seen from China
seen from Uzbekistan
seen from Australia
seen from Malaysia
seen from Türkiye
seen from Malaysia
seen from Russia
seen from Russia
seen from Germany
seen from Egypt
seen from Italy
seen from Russia
seen from Sweden
seen from Mexico
seen from China
seen from Malaysia
seen from Malaysia
bon, les frenchies
une idée de titre pour un blog sur le féminisme?
où est-ce que je peux trouver les fesses?
j'aime les fesses et j'ai vraiment envi d'en toucher
SVP?
Well, it happened. It was bound to, I supposed. We hit an invisible hitch hiking wall.
It’s name was France.
Over the course of two days we spent 8 hours waiting for rides in the hot sun. We watched empty SUV’s roll past by the dozen, the looks on their faces expressing clearly that they would rather undergo some sort of surgery than open their car door to us.
Roadside camping - a highlight between all the waiting:
We open-camped out in a few forests (actually a great time), walked quite a ways and spend too much time in the searing sun. Just in time for the heat wave we waited patiently, smiling and trying our best to put off that “I swear, we’re not actually serial-killers” sort of vibe.
Eventually we {finally} got a ride from a lovely lady from Paris, about our age with a killer fashion sense, an open mind, and a kind heart. We actually changed our route to get this ride to her city, realizing that we didn’t have much of a choice. We happily and eagerly took the ride to Marseille and hopped on the train once we got there. At least for the moment, we were over the idea of hitching in France.
She chatted with us about France, about the area and how she simply could not believe the attitude of the people here... “I could be lying in the street dying and these people would not help me,” she shared, her heavy accent adding an appropriate irony to her statement.
Fat chance us Canadian hitch-hikers had then, huh?
As is always the case, you cannot paint all people in an area with the same brush, and we did indeed meet her – a pleasure – but it was interesting to hear a French habitant express concern regarding the French attitude as well.
Needless to say, we were glad to get on that train to Perpignan, and looking forward to a change of pace that took us away from the French road side… at least for a few days anyways.
Who wants to teach me French?