A day wasted getting over
a cold. But with three weeks here before
we move on and both of us retired (love saying that), no great tragedy. Geri didn’t catch it in the end, though she
might have, so she has been able to devote herself to acting as my guru,
leading me into and through the life of a pensioner.
So far, so good.
Micheline and Anne, who
will be taking over the apartment when we leave for Budapest, will appreciate
that Geri has replaced the dead plants on the window sills not just with basil
for eating but some decorative flowers.
Enjoy.
Finally got a couple of
those frankfurters rolled-up in croissant dough. Yum. I
credit them with my quick recovery from the cold. But this morning we grabbed a couple of
straight-up croissants and I must say I was not impressed. Fine but not great. The Rustic Bean in Cobourg has nothing to be
ashamed of. Luckily a few other
boulangeries in the neighbourhood. We’ll
try and then, of course, report back.
The traffic barriers here
not unusual in Europe. A 25-30cm
diameter metal pylon that retracts into the street when someone authorized to
enter swipes a card or triggers a remote.
Beats ticketing etc. Plus fun for
the kids who swoop in after a car passes and stand on it so they can ride it as
it rises mebbe 75cm out of the pavement.
I have been tempted. Perhaps
after an afternoon beer…
What was a bit odd was
watching a fire truck on its way to an emergency have to stop at the older
versions and have one of the crew run out to swipe a card in order for the
truck to get into a street.
On the up side for Geri,
it meant we could follow the very fit (in both senses) firefighters. She even finds their polished metal helmets
fashionable. Her comment was that it
must be a rule all around the world that firefighter must be pretty.
Even allowing for my cold
it is a bit disturbing that we’re into Day 3 of Aix and have yet to see a
Dink. For why this is of critical
importance to us all (yes, you too) see THIS.
This morning we did one of
our favourite silly things here and jumped on one of the Diabline buses. They are the electric buses that work the old
city centre. Why so fun? Partly because everything is up close to you
as you roll along streets often no bigger than a double sidewalk at home. And you can get off just by asking any time
you see something interesting. Partly
because it is dirt cheap. E0.60 if you
pay cash, less for tickets and way less with a weekly pass.
But the best bit is that,
because everybody who lives in the old bit of the city seems to know everyone
else who does. They chat with each about
their news, ask the driver how her vacation was. Today we had a fellow passenger help us with
the new ticketing system. All really pleasant. Plus the driver stopped to chat with people
on the street and with someone not known to him but who was walking a
fine-looking poodle. So he pulled over
to fire off a few compliments before we continued our trip.
The slow speed (max 30???)
of the bus encourages it all I think.
The Cours Mirabeau has
been made pedestrian and scooter/bike-only since the Nice terrorist
attack. Today was the huge and quite
junky (some things that should never change) flea market. Worth seeing once unless you are into old
string instrument (there’s a section set aside for them) in which case go every
Saturday.
To end on a down note,
tights appear to be somewhat fashionable amongst men/boys in their teens. Profoundly unfortunate and we can only hope
it does not catch on. It is of some
sociological interest however. It would
seem that 15-20 years ago circumcision was not terribly popular in southern
France.
I should get a handful of
cards for The Best Fucking Cut Shop (a barber not far from here who not only
shaves but cuts hair with a straight razor) and hand them out to the bros in
tights. 😊
No photos of any note to
sort out on Flickr. Perhaps tomorrow. If desperate see those of our last visit HERE.
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