Yes I know that's an odd way to start an email about France, but Spain is where I am, so it's in context - CONTEXT, see?
So.
Currently in Granada, Spain, staying with a friend, Hannah who has very graciously put me up for the night and prevented a cataclysmic breakdown of organisation. See, I enjoyed Germany so much I hung around for a bit. And then I loved France so much I hung around a bit. And then I realised that I'd run out of time in Spain...but I'll save that for the next email when I'll know for certain whether I am screwed or not. Stay tuned!
This episode is exceptional for a couple of reasons:
1) It will actually be brief and not a 8-page-epic!
2) I am selling out to advertising!
That's right, advertising. Seems a certain mate of mine (Stan) has organised a certain music festival, a bloody big one:
The Blueprint Festival 2009 is on for the 9th September in Ararat, Victoria, Australia. This ain't no run of the mill rave or local do either - this thing is massive: check the website and review links below (yes it has full-on reviews):
http://www.blueprintfestival.
http://www.liveguide.com.au/
http://www.fasterlouder.com.
Stan is looking for participants but also volunteers! There's an awesome line-up so if you're into it, check the website for details. Tell your friends. Etc.
And now: France.
Let me just say it right up: France is a stereotype.
Everywhere else I've been, including some states of Australia, I've had a stereotype in my head that has promptly been smashed on arrival. This is good - a learning process I feel.
France? Nope. Exactly (exactly) what I imagined it to be. Whether we're talking wide streets, incredibly grandois monuments, a huge array of art and fashion, haughty political slogans, incredible cooking, sweeping views or rolling countryside, it's exactly what I expected it to be.
Needless to say this is rather odd, not to mention surprising.
Paris
I started the French trip in Paris, fresh from my Castle Rieneck frivolities in Germany. Nice hostel just out of town where I made my first discovery about France - the place is full of Australians and Canadians. Full. It seems it's the pilgramage site for both countries.
Now Canadians I can understand - French is a second language there. Why Australians? Well I can only guess it was the same reason I was there: You-Don't-Do-Europe-Without-
Pissed me off. Seriously, when have any of you guys back home ever called someone a 'sheila'? And since when did 'true story' become an expression? Argh.
Net result was I went even further down the path of getting rid of my accent - I figure that if I can't speak the language(s) I can at least speak clearly. And in this case it also had a nice side effect of distancing me from the wankers calling people 'drongos' (yes, seriously) and punching people on the arm.
Paris has too many features to list here, but the best I found were the Free Walking Tour and the Montmarte.
The words 'Free Tour' did not exactly inspire confidence in me, but what do you have to lose? Apart from your wallet and a few teeth (who says I'm not an optimist?), but this thing was supurb. The guides are all history students and been living in Paris for a length of time, so they know thier stuff. They work for tips and it's a good indication of the value of the tours that they averaged about 5-10 euro from everyone.
The Montmarte is the hill to the north of Paris, the highest natural feature. It has the Mouline Rouge and red light district at the bottom, and naturally, a church at the top. Now I'm pretty churched-out on this trip (my response to both the Cologne cathedral and Notre Dame was 'meh, same again', much to the horror of the english tourists next to me) but this one stands out, largely because it was white and has a view that rivaled the Eifle Tower.
Even better was the square next door where the artists gather, paint and display thier works, alongside the many sketch artists that ply a good trade with tourists. Which I am somewhat ashamed to say, includes me.
Yeah I gave in. A combination of vanity, curiosity and the fact I can never say no to someone who looks like they need the money found me on my arse for 90 min getting sketched. The result was...interesting. Funny thing, but I know realise it's all the lines and scars she left out that I really like about my face. Hmm.
The French People
You hear a lot about the French. It's surprising what turned out to be true.
First of all there's the attitude. Now it's easy to see why it might come over as rude or arrogant, but as far as I can tell it's something completely different. It's all about confidence. The French seem confident in who they are as individuals and it shines through in everything they do; the way they walk smoothly and leisurely, the way they sit casually and watch people walking past, the way they laugh modestly but unashamedly, and especially in the way they shrug - when you see a French person shrug, you get the whole picture in one go - it's not that they dislike you or think your inferior, it's just that they know who they are and they don't really care if you like it or not. The entire country has an attitude and I quite like it. It's like Australian laid-backness without anything to prove.
Language
Then there's the language. The French do not speak very good english and some don't speak it at all, but I never came across a situation where someone refused to speak english or was unfriendly because I did. Generally everyone was pretty friendly.
That said, the whole language thing here is starting to get to me. Basically put, every European language is 40-60% the same, plus an accent and give or take a few vowels.
Quite frankly, English and French are virtually the same language pronounced almost maliciously differently. And I'm pretty sure that if you swapped some of the extra vowels in French for some of the extra constanants in German you'd end up with the same language...
And do not start me on French keyboards. Just don't.
Smoking
Smoking in Europe is pretty common. Smoking in France however isn't simply common, nor even 'a national pastime' as I've heard it described. No, smoking in France is a national sport. I've seen some pretty keen smokers in my time, but never in my life have I see a cigarett rolled, lit, smoked, butted and thrown away with as much relish and attitude as I did in France. It was like a performance - nearly worth filming. Naturally the butts all over the street are not good for the temper, but such was the artisty that I could nearly forgive it. Nearly.
French food
Brilliant. Simple but damn tasty and it's converted me about frying - fat be damned, frying with butter is fantastic. And since I never saw a fat French person the stats are on my side.
Driving
Suicidal. We've all heard the expression that the traffic lights are only suggestions, right? In France and especially Paris, this is absolutely correct. If there's no car within 2 metres, pedestrians walk. If there's no pedestrian under their front wheels, cars go. The madness comes to a peak at the Arc de Triumph and it's 5 lane roundabout in Paris. A 5 lane roundabout. Just close your eyes and imagine that for a moment.
Yep, chaos. I just sat there and watched it for an hour waiting for a 12 car pile-up. Thankfully nothing happened, but the stats say there's an accident every 30 minutes on average and I'm not surprised. The only way it works is that drivers go into the thing with a destination in mind. They drive directly towards this destination and dodge any obstacles that may appear on the way such as other cars, pedestrians, scooters and the odd policeman waving his arms around for no apparant reason.
Bump-parking is another phenominon you need to see to beleive. Visualise it: You're backing into a tight parking space and bump the car behind you. In Australia that's an insurance claims and $200 plus premium and excess. In France it's an introduction, because you then drive forwards right into the car in front and continue until you've wedged you car into the spot. Amazing.
WWOOFING
After my 5 days in Paris I took off to the south of France and the famous Bordeaux region for my first try of Wwoofing. Wwoof stands for Willing Workers On Organic Farms - basically a system where you volunteer on a farm who supplies you accomodation, food and usually some social experiences. I was a bit unsure going into it, but after two seperate stays in France I am a thorough convert - if you want a virtually free holiday, a great way to meet real local people, and a damn good workout, wwoofing is for you.
The people who are into this are also usually pretty good quality. As an example, one couple I met turned up to visit in a horse drawn carriage, with three goats, two chickens and a portable yurt. Once I picked my jaw up off the dirt I found out that they travel 7 months of each year from wwoofing site to wwoofing site, get a feed, rest the animals and travel across Europe thus. I just about burned my suitcase then and there.
Of course, working on a farm came with a few lessons of its own.
Roosters. Bloody roosters
The first farm I stayed at was with a lovely German and Austrian couple who were very into Buddhism which prompted a number of excellent debates. I had a great stay here. I also learnt about roosters here.
Everyone knows that roosters crow at dawn right? I always wondered why they did this. Well now I know - rooster crow at dawn for a very simple reason:
They're awake.
They stop crowing for an equally simple reason: they're asleep. You get 2 or more roosters within 500m of each other and they will crow all bloody day.
European stinging nettles
They don't look like the ones back home. I found this out by wading through them in shorts.
They sting just as badly as back home. I found this out the same way.
Roma/Sinti
Or gypsies to you, though they don't like the term. I saw my first group for the first tiem out in this region and even worked witha couple at the second place I was at La Rouque winery.
Seeing one of thier camps I got the feeling that if a group of Scouts set up a camp, stayed for 30 years and had children, this is exactly what it would look like. Messy as hell but strangely organised and extremely mobile.
Bring on the clowns!
It was at La Rouque that I got a first hand tatste of just how much the French adore the arts - my hosts turned out to be in an acting troupe and I wandered along to watch them rehearse for an upcoming play where they all play clowns. And may I say that they were pretty incredible. That same attitude I mentioned earlier seemed to have a particular effect on the acting; adding a certain legitimacy to it because, despite the vigourous acting, you got the feeling that it was what it was, and what the audience thought was kinda irrelevant for the performers.
Onwards!
And with that it was goodbye France, hello Spain. I'll be here for another week or so, then off to Sweden to visit some friends (small detour), before heading to Italy, and the one I've been looking forward to for a long time: Malta!
As always miss you all and hope all is well and no one's died from swine flu as yet. Keep those emails coming! Sorry to all I haven't replied to as yet, I'll get my act together in the next few days one I have an idea where I'll be sleeping for more than 2 nights in a row. Good times! Hahaha.
Photos and videos
Up as usual on facebook and youtube - did a big upload of photos but still behind on videos. Stay tuned! Check out the links below.
http://www.facebook.com/
http://www.youtube.com/user/
What cheer!
Gordon
No comments:
Post a Comment