t-minus 5 days
Well I'm finally winding down this marathon trip to France. 46 days. I'm outta here Friday morning (6/9) and I can't wait to get back to my honey, my house, my dog... crazy things like air conditioning, heating, rooms larger than 8'x12', shower curtains, and the ability to drive to work.
I spent this weekend in Clermont Ferrand and I was again reminded of why it was a good idea for me to have spent so many other weekends traveling. This place is absolutely dead on the weekends. There was an amish quilt exhibition at the art museum in town, but I decided to skip that. Sorry Mom. Instead I explored some more of the old city, ate a good kebab, and spent some time at the city gardens where the roses are in bloom. I caught up on sleep, took care of some wedding business, and just finished a nice TV dinner (chicken with lemon vegetable sauce + couscous).
There's another thing I won't miss - eating alone. You can only go to restaurants so many times and ask for a "table for 1 please" before it gets really old. I did run into a couple Americans this weekend though. When you're in a foreign country alone and don't speak the language, you develop a sort of "American radar" that helps you spot fellow Yankees (or rebels, as the case may be).
Such was the case yesterday afternoon after hitting the "Panorama" for a lovely dinner of "kebab, salad, frites." when I overheard two American guys talking at a table outside a bar I was passing. "That's the first English I've heard in this town in 6 weeks" I said as I shook hands and introduced myself. I was meeting Scott Dickard and Johnny Thompson, two Michelin guys from South Carolina who are here for training. They were equally happy to find a fellow American and promptly invited me to sit down and have a beer with them, which I did.
We exchanged the typical stories about "can you believe they all drive such small cars around here" and "where do you go for a coke with ice in it?" These are two COUNTRY guys, mind you. Johnny had some additional questions such as "how do you tell if these French guys are gay?" and "when someone serves you a banana, pours something on it and lights it on fire, what are you supposed to do? wait until it goes out?" At this point I decided to buy them the next round. As lost as I am in this place, they seemed to have it even worse.
Apparently Johnny had ordered Bananas flambe earlier in the evening. He decided that, once they had set the dessert ablaze, the best thing for him to do was blow it out. So he picked up the plate and started blowing on it. The result is that he blew flaming rum on the table cloth, his shoes and pants, all of which subsequently caught fire. He yelled to Scott to help extinguish the flames, but Scott was too busy laughing to lend a hand. I'm really sorry I missed this, but to hear these two relate the story in their Greenville drawl was pretty darn funny.
We had two or 3 rounds and parted ways, but it sure was an entertaining evening. They make the dies for the Michelin tires, and offered to give me the insider's tour once I make it to Greenville. Of course this is something I will take them up on.
I spent this weekend in Clermont Ferrand and I was again reminded of why it was a good idea for me to have spent so many other weekends traveling. This place is absolutely dead on the weekends. There was an amish quilt exhibition at the art museum in town, but I decided to skip that. Sorry Mom. Instead I explored some more of the old city, ate a good kebab, and spent some time at the city gardens where the roses are in bloom. I caught up on sleep, took care of some wedding business, and just finished a nice TV dinner (chicken with lemon vegetable sauce + couscous).
There's another thing I won't miss - eating alone. You can only go to restaurants so many times and ask for a "table for 1 please" before it gets really old. I did run into a couple Americans this weekend though. When you're in a foreign country alone and don't speak the language, you develop a sort of "American radar" that helps you spot fellow Yankees (or rebels, as the case may be).
Such was the case yesterday afternoon after hitting the "Panorama" for a lovely dinner of "kebab, salad, frites." when I overheard two American guys talking at a table outside a bar I was passing. "That's the first English I've heard in this town in 6 weeks" I said as I shook hands and introduced myself. I was meeting Scott Dickard and Johnny Thompson, two Michelin guys from South Carolina who are here for training. They were equally happy to find a fellow American and promptly invited me to sit down and have a beer with them, which I did.
We exchanged the typical stories about "can you believe they all drive such small cars around here" and "where do you go for a coke with ice in it?" These are two COUNTRY guys, mind you. Johnny had some additional questions such as "how do you tell if these French guys are gay?" and "when someone serves you a banana, pours something on it and lights it on fire, what are you supposed to do? wait until it goes out?" At this point I decided to buy them the next round. As lost as I am in this place, they seemed to have it even worse.
Apparently Johnny had ordered Bananas flambe earlier in the evening. He decided that, once they had set the dessert ablaze, the best thing for him to do was blow it out. So he picked up the plate and started blowing on it. The result is that he blew flaming rum on the table cloth, his shoes and pants, all of which subsequently caught fire. He yelled to Scott to help extinguish the flames, but Scott was too busy laughing to lend a hand. I'm really sorry I missed this, but to hear these two relate the story in their Greenville drawl was pretty darn funny.
We had two or 3 rounds and parted ways, but it sure was an entertaining evening. They make the dies for the Michelin tires, and offered to give me the insider's tour once I make it to Greenville. Of course this is something I will take them up on.
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