Where's Waldo? And Who The Hell Is Charlie?

There are lots of funny translated titles in French bookstores: Dr. House, Les Frères Scott ("The Scott Brothers" = One Tree Hill), but this one takes the cake (and eats it too). "Où est Charlie?" (pronounced Ooo eh Sharley) - Really? That doesn't even rhyme! If Waldo's name must be changed I would prefer "Où est Jorge?"!

That said, I did enjoy seeing Charlie in the bookstore.

I still haven't quite figured out how to eat on the go in France. There just isn't as much fast food, so when outside the big city centers you're on your own. My attempted "cheap lunch on the go" last Friday in Varades consisted of:

• 3 slices of uncooked-looking ham bought from the butcher
• 1 small bottle of warm milk bought at a corner store
• 1 apple washed in bottled water
  

This meal cost about 4 euro - pretty good. For another euro, I could have bought a baguette and made a sandwich, but I was feeling adventurous and back-to-my-animal-roots by eating the ham all by itself.

Only one McDonald's exists in Ancenis, and yesterday I found it:


There's McDonalds, looming on the horizon, ostracized to the giant commercial center just outside the small town's boundaries. This commercial center has apparently sprung up in the past 10 years or so like a cancerous growth.

But returning to "McDo" (as they call it) - I knew that I should perhaps not go to France and visit the McDonald's. But it called to me. I was hungry and the damn restaurants were too expensive. And as for the taste, and the smell - how could this be wrong when it felt so right?


I decided to get a Big Mac in honor of Matt in Cincinnati. Maybe fast food really is an addiction, because that greasy Big Mac brought with it a wave of satisfaction unmatched by all the finest wines of France.

There was no dollar (or euro) menu, unfortunately, and a small cup of "iced tea" with no ice (they consider it A-OK to call it iced tea and include no ice) costs something around 2 euros. That sucks! I really don't find it all that great that they sell beer, either, since I really wouldn't feel like paying for beer with my Royale.

Oh, and besides McDonald's, I also saw a beautiful 600 year-old castle and a quaint little house.



Wow! That's one leafy house.

Speaking of houses, tomorrow I move from the 3rd floor of an English teacher's house into a dormitory 0f Ancenis. I'm very excited! The reason being, of course, that even though I make plenty of coffee and even worked at Starbucks, I've actually never bought or owned a coffeemaker. This is my first priority upon moving into my new home. I'll also be buying plenty of rice, couscous, pasta, an iron, and a radio. Stay tuned! (groan).

Bicycle Spectacle!

Hi! I'm living in the danger zone here, St. Florent le Vieil, France. The other day I decided to ride a bike about 45 km to Angers, where my friend Kelly and her boyfriend are living. I took my bike? No. I'm living with a middle-aged woman who is an English teacher at the local high school until I get permanent lodging. After buying a lock and refilling the tires of my borrowed feminine bicycle [see above - notice the basket], I was on my way at 5:11pm (17h11).

Unfortunately, as a wiser person might have foreseen, I didn't quite make it to Angers before dark. The sunset finished right as I entered the general vicinity of Angers: Bouchemaine, at the outlet of the river that runs through Angers, a few hours walk from the apartment to which I was going. Unfortunately, my map was a black and white photocopy made by a librarian in Varades, near St. Florent, and it had absolutely no details - all it showed of my area were a few big roads.

Since I didn't want to cut my own path through the farms, I was stuck walking along the edge of freeways. Not a great situation, non? So I decided to keep walking with a combination of trying out side roads where it was quiet enough as not to be killed by a car. At a bus stop, I took a digital photo of the bus route map to take with me. I needed to cross that damn river, but presumably stay near enough to society to find a payphone to call my friend. My cell phone? Not an option, since the SIM card was two years old and deactivated.

The darkness, the fatigue, the pulling the bike around, the going in circles on side roads - needless to say, my progress was rather limited. After an hour and a half of riding around and not finding a payphone and not finding any food place open (all those damn chateaux and not one White Castle!), I could tell by my maps that I didn't have much of a chance of making it to my destination in any time less than a couple hours, though I still couldn't find where I was. On a side road, I found a new backlit map in the middle of semi-populated area with an elementary school. I noticed some young people in a house nearby had their front window open, music playing and were engaging in lively conversation. One woman looked out the window a few times, noticing my strange presence.

After squinting tiredly a minute or two in front of the map, I decided my situation was sufficiently hopeless and walked directly through their gate, bike helmet in hand, up to the open window to ask to use their telephone, announcing as plaintively as possible that "Je suis gravement perdu" [I was gravely lost].

They took great mercy on me, offering their many cell phones and speaking in their finest English. The next thing I knew they invited me inside to watch a movie with them (District 9 in English with English subtitles), gave me Coca Cola and "belgium" waffles with nutella - delicious! and were all carrying on very welcomingly. After the movie, they went out of their way to drive me and my bicycle to my friend's house across the river (17 minute drive). I gave them my email and we're keeping in touch. Probably one of the more senselessly dangerous situations I've gotten myself into, but three points for humanity. Thanks, guys.

This is a Horrible Way to Start a Blog

Oh look at that it looks like I'm typing a box of words.