Wednesday, October 18, 2006

Now I Understand

They have invaded my little village of Lourmarin. The ugly Americans have arrived like a plague.

As I entered the local patisserie to buy breakfast croissants, I heard a man say “Do any of y’all speak English here?” in a recognizably southern drawl. As the proprietor shook her head NO, his wife followed with “What is the Be-st (in 2 syllables) thing here?” Both were speaking loud enough to be heard on the street. Then I realized these are the Americans the French hate. And I hate them too!

The man looked in my direction and said, “Maybe we should let her go first. She looks like she already knows what she wants.”

I quickly took him up on his offer, ordering un croissant, une baguette, et une petite quiche lorraine.

As I left they were still trying to decide, with more questions in English directed at the poor woman who had claimed not to speak English.

At times like this, I really don’t want to advertise my nationality.

Today’s travels took us to the small towns of Bonnieux, Lacoste, and Roussillon. The collective wisdom of the day as recounted in the car on the way home:
-- The osso buco and lamb shanks at the small café in Roussillon were outstanding.
-- “Mairie” means city hall.
-- The cigale or grasshopper is the symbol of Provence.
-- Bonnieux sucks (and I quote).
-- We need to get an earlier start tomorrow.

We are in search of the best pommes frites in Lourmarin for dinner tonight!

The French love their dogs. These two are having lunch with their owners in Lacoste.
These are the ocre cliffs of Roussillon, a small town known as the Santa Fe of France.

Painted doors in Roussillon.

The best osso buco ever at a bistro in Roussillon.

This is one good-looking Frenchman, don't you think?

The black and white cat, Mousse, is back. He lives in the house with the bright green door.


Blogger Kristin said...

Fabulous pictures. Thanks for sharing!

2:34 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Yum on the osso bucco but yummier on the Frenchman!


3:07 PM  
Blogger steve said...

is that an orange or a lemon on the Osso Bucco? And are those Olives w/ the Pasta? You could hang your hat on that sauce. If I ever go to France I must remember to tone it down a little ya'll.
On my H-Moon in Mexico they switched the Music after we sat down in a small restaurant from a nice local tune to "Cat Scratch Fever". Unbelievable.

6:09 PM  
Blogger Pauline said...

What a delicious journey you're taking us on. You're a wonderful travelogue writer. The best meal I ever had was in a tiny restaurant near Normandy.

6:19 PM  
Blogger Richard said...

Lovely pictures on this and the other posts.

Sounds like you are enjoying yourself.

The problem with only speaking one language is that you assume everyone else speaks it as well, or that every other language is in some way connected to it - so just slow it down and emphasize what you think are the key syllables and others are bound to understand.

I prefer to converse in English and naively assume I will always find someone who can speak in English - if not, then I'll just go for pot luck.

7:01 PM  
Blogger Reya Mellicker said...

Great pics!! Tourists can be thoughtless, but it's the current presidential administration that makes me lie and say I'm from Canada when I travel abroad ...

The doggies are so CUTE! And ... "the Santa Fe of France" ?? Wow.

9:18 AM  
Blogger Mother of Invention said...

Yes, le garcon is handsome! I can't imagine letting dogs eat with you here! And les chats? They always come back, just like the song says! That dish looks delicious! You are bringing us all there with your posts! Merci beaucoup!

9:48 AM  

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