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French Country Travel Life Grinch – Part Two
French Country Travel Life Grinch – Part Two might make more sense if you first check out PART ONE.
As I got closer something happened that I wasn’t expecting. (You’re ahead of me again – right?) Exactly. My last chance for water looked MORE like the Bates Motel.
Now you’re probably expecting me to say I “knocked meekly” on Mr. Bates door. Wrong. On two counts. One – DA BG is not, and will never be a candy ass knocker. Two – My mission was survival!
Several burst of manly frapping brought no results. Could the place be deserted? Could Mr/Mrs Bates be in the shower? Worse yet – could a motel guest be in the shower?
These were the non sugar plum thoughts that tangoed through my head, as rivers of sweat continued to decorate my sneakers.
After doing the impatiently sweat drenched waiting foot shuffle way too long, I detected shuffling inside.
That was the good news. The bad? It’s frequency and pace telegraphed an indisputable message – OLD PERSON! As in probably hard of hearing, mentally challenged, just plain cranky – or all of the above.
Sadly the exotic stranger from the far away lands was not wrong. After the obligatory eternity of silence – when the footsteps stopped -the door sprang open to reveal the oldest, most shrivelled, stooped over, grandpa imaginable. And he was cranky! Or at least every inch of him looked it.
He was not the Grinch who stole Christmas. He was the FATHER of the Grinch who stole Christmas!
Father Grinch clocked me with meanest WTF -are-you-doing-on-my doorstep scowl. But said nothing.
After giving me a disgusting looking twice over, he raised a bony crooked finger and motioned me to follow.
Yes, the long, dark musty hallway WAS perfectly in character. Complimented by the standard issue French Farmer modern Formica tablecloth in the ancient (as in no micro-wave) kitchen.
My water bottle and I were wordlessly directed to sit at the table – while Grandpa Grinch, back to us, was clearly “up to something.”
After several minutes of “fussin’ about” Papa Grinch returned. Standing in front of me, he placed two glasses on the table. One of water. The other – an unidentified dark red liquid.
His (by now) trademark scowl firmly in place, he scooped up the water glass and intoned ” eau…..pour le poisson!” (water – for the fishes!) as he turned and poured the water into the sink.
Turning around, a grin bigger than the Grand Canyon had transformed Papa Grinch into the kindest, happiest , most fun lovin’ Grandpa that ever was.
And, yes, he did fill up my water bottle. (After our second glass of wine)
Now – can you guess the moral of the French Country Travel Life Grinch story?
THROW ME A BONE HERE, PEOPLE!
What are ya thinkin’?
French Country Travel Life Grinch – Part One
The French Country Travel Life Grinch – wasn’t really a grinch. Although that’s what he seemed to be at first glance. But like many first glance encounters DA BG has experienced “grinchdom” was a very false first impression. (yes – there WILL be a moral to this tale)
Strangely – I have no memory of what beautiful part of beautiful France I was gliding through. But what I do remember – what was, in fact, unforgettable with a capital “U” – was the temperature. The phrase: “searing heat” would have been a serious understatement.
This steamy state of affairs was compounded by the fact that my water bottle was empty. And had been for too many KM’s. Usually between villages, you’ll be greeted by a collection of houses dotted along the route at irregular intervals. But this fine day (you’re ahead of me already,aren’t you?) – Yes, you’re correct – no houses.
Alas – nothing to do – but keep “keepin’ on.” Or in this case “boiling on.” Then, after a mini-eternity of pedalin’ in the distance – a house!
Or was it just a heat mirage? Closing on the solitary dwelling it became apparent that this was not yer garden variety French house along the quaint country lane. Nor was it the storybook chateau of every non French travellers dream.
As the distance between the exotic stranger from the far away lands and the house that was, to say the least, “not typical” – I had the eerie feeling that I was back in California. Studio City to be exact. Because my last chance for live saving water was a dead ringer for…
The Bates Motel!
Part Two (uh….that would be..the chilling conclusion? of French Country Travel Life Grinch) Next Time.
THROW ME A BONE HERE,PEOPLE!
What are ya thinkin’?
Bicycle Gourmets Photo Workshop France 2014 is getting…
Bicycle Gourmets Photo Workshop France 2014 is getting…near the end. But there’s still time to sign up and get happy. And Snappy!
But dontcha be forgettin’ that at this late date, there’s only one option left…and it’s bound to fill up fast.
Thus far – all my snappers be happy. Which, bien sur is the main reason Da Bg hasn’t been scribblin’ regularly. (keepin’ ’em under my photographic guidance wing and all that)
While our weather hasn’t been consistently blue skies and unbearable heat – the alternatives have provided some much needed contrasts and, shall we say “unique” photo ops.
That said – we’ve had more than our share of good photographic luck – and even mo beddah – no accidents, illness or allergies to French Wine.(However, I’m always available to dispose of same should such a problem arise!)
Logically, as we’re nearing the (photo) finish line of Bicycle Gourmet’s Photo Workshop France 2014 – you’d think I would be playing proud mother hen to my photo chicklets by wowing you with a selection of their greatest (so far) snaps. That IS my intention.
But the problem is: they’re not My Images.
However, what usually happens is – after my photo doves fly home, several weeks later they send a selection of their favs with effusive thanks(and isn’t that the best kind?) and permission to share their French Bg Moments with the World at large.
Until that bright shiny photo day – This Video will give you a taste of what you missed – but need’nt – if you’re up for the last ab fab, brill,groovy, and marvy leg of Bicycle Gourmet’s Photo Workshop France 2014.
THROW ME A BONE HERE, PEOPLE!
What are ya thinkin’?
