Travel, 50+, France

So, this guy exited the shop that says "Pain" on the window. He conjured a cigarette out of somewhere, or maybe he was born with it. He leaned closer to light it off a burning car. With the cigarette in his mouth, he wiped his hand on the white shirt with black stripes. He was clearly murmuring something as he went to adjust his beret. Once, twice, thrice, enough. He shoved a baguette under his arm (for aroma) and proceeded to mount a bicycle. Probably his. He nodded and uttered "hon hon" to a fellow Frenchman as he begun to peddle away.

The man rolled along the streets, just a grey line between fields of lavender. He crossed Seine, Loire and Rhône before reaching a romantic old town. The streets were lined with cafés, the ditches with sophisticated highbrow winos going "Oh là là.", "Sacré bleu!" and an occasional "Tabarnak!" from a more worldly fellow. The man on the bicycle replied with an occasional "hon, hon".

Finally, he was where he was going. The man jumped off his bicycle like a circus professional, took the cigarette out of his mouth and tapped at it with the tip of his index finger. It was the first time it ashed not on his shirt. The man turned a corner and then heard a woman with a thick American accent yelling after him.
"Hello! Sir... Excuse me!" The woman demanded attention as she panted forwards.
"Oui, oui." The man responded with the cigarette, once again, tightly pursed between his lips.
"Oh, I'm sorry, I... I didn't realize you were..." The American said with blood flushing her face crimson as she turned to leave.
The Frenchman muttered something akin to the last name of a contemporary Russian leader under his breath. Visibly irked and further agitating himself, he turned to continue on his way home. The man decided he was going to drink a bottle of red wine with the escargot while making love to his second lover of the day, before AND after burning a vehicle...

...is probably something you might stereotypically expect France to be like. Alas, non. It's more like cities overflowing with suburban youth going aloof with their shenanigans and the countryside is having Varg Vikernes performing as Louis Cachet all over the place, plus a few retirees from the continent. Probably.

Needless to say, France is one of my favorite countries, the exploration of which I began by entering hot Bitche. 42 degrees Celsius hot, to be precise. It was part of a road trip across a good quarter of the continental Europe.

The drive had already begun in Belgium and gone through Luxembourg and parts of Germany. The central idea of this particular trip was notable old architecture. For this, Bitch had/has a citadel and, to be fair, other buildings as well. The tourist info was shocked someone (not French) was visiting. Or anyone. We had the info and the whole town to ourselves (granted, we had to tolerate the locals). The next target after this was a work of Vauban, one of the most notable military engineers in Europe. The man worked so hard under the Sun King that he made himself a one man UNESCO factory.

While most of the trip was outside France and, hence, not in this story, we did also visit Colmar. A home for the meatiest menu in France and one of my favorite cities. While Strasbourg is all fine and dandy, Colmar goes number one in this race. Strasbourg, coincidentally, happens to be the location where I have met the rudest French people. Far ruder than the Parisians, who have mellowed out in recent times. While having become more amiable, Paris is one of those places that ended up on my list of "only visit under duress". If you live in Paris, you will know why. Still, I would visit again for reasons with enough "gravity". There is one French city on my "never again" list. That city is Marseille. It is the only one where there was a constant feeling of threat and shady people kept following almost everywhere outside the accommodation. Suspicious, angry, disgusted faces or, at best, apathetic. It's like I was in the middle of a paranoid spy or a narco novel. That one innocent and unsuspecting guy who gets whacked early on, just to prove a point about everyone being at risk.

While I never witnessed the internationally famous burning car, in Marseille or elsewhere, I did once arrive to France immediately after something even more drastic. Nice, the second of this kind I have visited immediately after, had just suffered a terrorist strike. Some of you may remember the truck strike. I do have the image of the gazebo full of condolences, but instead, I'll post something a tad brighter. Nice had recovered extremely well right after. People were already living life. With or without baggage and dreadful thoughts. The only thing that had not immediately recovered was tourism. Then, a snap of the fingers later, it was full. I'm happy to have seen the empty streets before seeing them packed full and bursting over the brim.

In case you're interested, Côte d'Azur is one of the more walkable stretches of land that you might want to actually pace through. I was and did. The scenery was massaging the eyeballs and, depending on season, you'll get your snacks straight from the trees. Sort of, anyway. In case you're not into tree-eating, you might as well sample half the world's cuisine so hard your wallet wails with Bob Marley. I have tried to gorge through as many of their domestic dishes as possible, things like the French cock in wine, Tatin's tart, the Nice salad and so forth, but the best dish and treatment was served in a Mauritian restaurant. Go figure.

From the coast you can only climb to new heights and may, if you so will, enter one of my favorite cities and towns. Town being Annecy and city being Lyon. Annecy is one of the places that continue to suffer my missing pictures saga, but it is peaceful and just looks very nice. Dude, trust me. Lyon has a lot to offer. Eras, empires, festivals, cuisine, the HQ of Interpol for those who want more than a minuscule challenge for their holiday goals and more. For the rest of the visited places, I'll grant my silence.

The Judgment:
This is probably the most dangerous thing to say but: French wine is not the best one in the world. Seriously. Oh, right... The judgment of the nation... France might feel like a tedious place, going to which is at best beating a dead horse. It's pretty much the world's most visited place and Paris is pretty much the world's most visited city. And then, somehow, despite there being plenty more places to go, most tourists end up in Paris after all and anyway. Half of them love it, half of them loath it. To be fair, it's good to do Paris once. Just don't take a video, you'll regret it. I have enjoyed finding new angles to France and new experiences with different environments and people. There's always something more. And, if you have looked at my map, I'm barely half way, if that. With the exceptions mentioned above, I've had a splendid time everywhere. Choose planes, choose cars, trains or just bike or walk around and there's always a different France waiting for you. At the same time, there is the familiar undercurrent you can lean on, if things ever get overwhelmingly novel. This is my France, at any rate.

Would I go again? Yes. (...and now you can do your best Fr*nce jokes in the comments.)