Côte d’Azur is too astonishing to be driving on the highway and not being able to absorb its beauty. We stopped in every village between Nice and Saint Tropez.
Roasted in France
A. broke all the traffic laws and we crossed all the village’s centers without leaving our perfectly lovely air-conditioned car. His parking style has always been almost touching the coffee shop counter with one wheel and this time the heat was a perfect excuse.
We had liters of coffees, Cokes, lemonades, Campari, and water along the 100 km of distance and we traveled longer than we needed to cross the whole Spain, trying never to leave the car for more than 10 minutes.
The tourists with another philosophy of moving around were wearing entirely wet shirts, A. was changing 7 t-shirts daily and as days were passing by, my dresses got lighter and lighter and started to look more like a cobweb than a dress.
Hungry in France
The worst thing about France, especially if you live in Spain where we have dinners after 22:00, is their dinner time. We couldn’t possibly find an open restaurant after 21:00, even on the touristic French riviera!
Most of our trip we ate like sparrows during the boiling hot days and then, suddenly it was still equally sunny and hot, yet already too late for a restaurant. 8 times of 14 we missed dinner and managed to find some fast food, Italian and Brazilian restaurant. It was impossible to catch a French dinner.
Many times I saw headlines in women magazines “How do French stay slim?" “Why French women don’t get fat?"
Let me tell you why! They go to bed hungry! What they call dinner for the rest of us is late lunch! I was searching for food like a hungry wolf all across France!
Saint Tropez is adorable.
I forced A. watch “And God created woman” which even I don’t like; I read him all Brigitte Bardot quotes from the Internet; he had to listen all about her fighting for the animals’ rights; we laughed for hours about her “singing” Harley David-SON, so when we entered Saint Tropez, he was adoring her almost as much as I do.
Even if he didn’t he wouldn’t dare to say it out loud.
It was our last day in France and we were ready for the stupid lunch-dinner meal at stupid o’clock.
We threw ourselves on a terrace in the harbor (btw. I’m still not sure if I think it’s great or offending they have Brigitte’s pictures even in the toilets) although their water mist fans with that heat, seemed ridiculous.
If there were car wash hoses I would offer myself to freely wash people’s cars while rolling wet over the hoods.
My almost unexisting dress and my hair were completely wet and Gucci and Whisky started to breathe heavily which I didn’t like. I started to have hallucinations from the heat. I understood why geniuses need to be in that state to get mastermind ideas. I jumped, “We’ll be right back!”.
I took Gucci and Whisky to the Tour Portalet. I simply entered the sea carrying them in my hands, in front of the collapsing tourists sitting on the rocks all over the sea. None of them had a vision of saving their lives by just taking their shoes off and wetting their feet in the sea. They were just staring at us in dehydration delirium.
My dress was as wet as before I even entered the water, but now it was refreshingly cold and Whisky and Gucci were brought back to life. I squeezed the water out of them, put them completely wet into their stroller and they contentedly fell asleep, fresh and cozy.
Did I like France this time?
I think they did a big effort to learn some English ultimately or at least now they try to explain with their hands. They used to repeat like arrogant parrots the same french sentence at the same speed although you didn’t understand it the first 5 times.
Did we connect with someone, invited him to visit us, took his number, have a special feeling? No. French don’t wake up warm feelings around my heart as well as they don’t care about anyone but themselves.
But this time they didn’t irritate me and get me to the point when I swear: Next time you need some help on my territory, just wait for me to say “English, no! Esto es España, habla Español!”
They were correct to us and that’s fine. They were very, very nice to our dogs, which is enough for us to come back someday. Overall, this time, France was a nice surprise.