I am truly, deeply sorry for all the times that I shouted at the tourist driver in front of me, as they crawled and weaved their way along in confusion.
Also, I promise, with my hand on my heart, that I will never again roll my eyes when someone from another country falters when trying to talk to me in English.
Both happened to me last week and I’m still traumatised.
It started when I had my first foray into driving on the right hand side of the road. Firstly, let me just say that I am mortified about the two cyclists who thought I was a terrorist coming for them and also for the, almost, sudden disappearance of a parked van’s wing mirror. However, I feel that neither deserved such a strong reaction from the other road users.
Secondly, having vehicles hurtling towards you from the left is unnatural and I feel I should be forgiven for flinching and changing direction every time a two ton truck from Toulouse tries to kill me.
Next, I visited an Orange outlet to get a SIM card. I have been advised that in order to be better received, it is important to quickly establish that you are from South Africa and not the UK and to initiate conversation in French, however painful that maybe for all concerned.
I entered the very smart shop and smiled warmly at the female sales assistant. She was wearing the usual hideous uniform but being French it looked chic and fabulous on her. Using my duolingo French, I informed her that I was from l’Afrique du Sud and asked if she spoke English. ‘Non’, she snarled and tossing her blonde mane over her shoulder, she made that uniform talk as she sashayed off. ‘Bitch’, I whispered. She shot me a withering look. So, she understood some English then.
Driving has become a huge part of our life, as our gite is far from civilisation and half a country away from the region we have identified as the place we want to settle. However, the long distances are not a hardship (unless I’m the one driving) as it’s Autumn here and everywhere you look there is an explosion of colour. Villages are framed by avenues of trees, lit up like rows of Roman candles. Hilly vineyards are covered by crocheted blanket squares of orange, red and yellows. Pavements transformed into carpets of golden leaves. All this, with a back drop of an icy blue, cloudless sky.
However, lately we’ve noticed something strange, as we enter and leave some of the villages. We Googled it.
Apparently, French farmers are not happy. More and more regulations and restrictions are being foisted on them by the Government, while imported goods are not so confined.
They warned the Minister of Agriculture of militant behaviour. As South Africans, we would be bracing ourselves for country lanes barricaded by tractors and hay bales set alight.
Instead, they went on military manoeuvres under the cover of darkness and carefully unscrewed the name signs of some of the villages and put them back upside down. No damage was done and there have been no complaints by the residents. I’ll let you know who cracks first.
Fun Fact about France - from 10pm on Saturdays to 10pm on Sundays, heavy duty lorries are banned from being on the roads.
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