The "French"

Whilst we are on the subject of the French here are some of my entirely unscientific first impressions, first I would say that they have been very polite, incredibly helpful and considerate. Maybe it’s just the people I meet on boats and in the harbour but I’ve felt very comfortable, I only speak O-level French badly but I do try and I’m sure they appreciate that, I am always stunned to listen to the British, the majority of which blithely ramble on in English without for one second stopping to consider if the French person they are addressing understands a word they are saying.
Second their dogs’ poo everywhere with impunity!!! Not just anywhere but mainly on paths, pavements, in shop doors and on the bloody pontoon outside my boat!!!!!!!!! They just pretend it’s not happening and walk on ….. unbelievable.

The French love boats and they love eating anything out of the sea. They are almost semi-professional at it. I might tow a lure occasionally in a half hearted way but they really go for it. At my anchorage in Lesconil this boat arrived with a family of 4 onboard they anchored then changed into wetsuits and armed with spear guns in they went to kill anything they could. I don’t think they were very successful but they spent 3 hours in the water so they were bloody cold. In Locmarie this quite elderly couple got into their dinghy and then stated laying a gill net!!! I kid you not, the net must have been 50 meters long and they laid it then swept in a circle to close the net then trawled it in, keen or what.

In France it is in fact law to wear Speedos (aka budgie smugglers), which were obviously invented by a guy whose shoulders were wider than his stomach, if you want to use a public swimming pool you cannot wear large figure disguising shorts of the type that have filled my wardrobe for many years now. Sailing is not a fitness sport, as my increasing waistline will testify to, so why do the French sailing fraternity insist on standing on their boats in their budgie smugglers, pot bellies heading south believing that they are the re-incarnation of some Greek god? I don’t know either and it gives me mal de mer.

I just love the French language, so flowing, so romantic, so soft compared with say German and what would I give to develop a Gallic shrug; it can mean yes it can mean no it can mean maybe….just how handy would that be?

And finally … pedestrian crossings….. in Spain you only have to look at one and a car will screech to a halt, in the UK of course some people stop and some do not whilst here in France as soon as you put a foot on a crossing engines rev and with cries of Geronimo they come thundering past with a “what do you think your doing” look on the driver’s face.