So once again the summer break. We cross the France of through and thereby test its system of railway and highway. We might even publish a guide to guest rooms for friends and family.
Every year we come back, the dear homeland seems a little more exotic. It took us a while to get acclimatized to France, his moaning, its small cars and its endless meal. It was only after two weeks and let's be honest, when cloud cover was good enough to stand up, we finally feel at home. We now find the beautiful sensations of Drill hills, the softness of the sun on the terrace for breakfast, small cafes on the shaded squares. That said, our eye is sharpened by the stone of the new world and we often judge our fellow citizens. Many things we ulcerate, starting with sarcasm. It is, undoubtedly, a national sport. Practiced at all levels and all ages, this laughter without humor any discussion of poisons as a boot into touch on the defensive line. What was excited to lose? The good word cache badly thought vulgar, sadness and renunciation. Well, that would cost us a smile? It seems stupid? So the fear of ridicule that locks us into gloomy attitudes. Even conversations caught on the street or on the beach point the French defeatism: it's too difficult, we will not succeed, etc.. The children of France are cursed by the failures of their parents.
It is true that we encounter a lot of teachers who seem to have many reasons to complain and to be sarcastic. But why the smile and good humor they would be reserved for shoe salesmen? Are we better off?
French cities were invaded by the car. Here the fine automobile to make the smallest possible, it invades the space much more than in America. It is the effect conjugate of the narrow streets, the minerality of the landscape and diesel engines. The car eats the city through the eyes and ears. However, campaigns enchant us with their hedges, their paths, their groves and meadows of poppies. We breathe in front of the broad skies, away from the flatness of the fetid swamp. Villages, sometimes with cancer spared housing estates, are an incredible charm. They cruelly mock the rows of mobile homes and churches along dilapidated roads of Louisiana.
In summary, we love France for what it is. We deem it more, but without contempt. We happy to find there people who are dear to us. And even if we seem a little naive.
Meanwhile, oil spills in the Gulf ...
