The problem with the French
About ten years ago, when I moved from Ottawa to Montreal, the first thing I noticed was that people I passed were now looking me in the eye rather than looking down at the sidewalk. . I had the same feeling the moment I landed in Dieppe, France.
My path to date. A little less straight than expected!
And it was no accident. Everywhere on the way, in town, on the cycle path, the road, the French greet me with a frank "hello". Unlike the British reserve, the French are eager for questions about my destination, my equipment, my past itinerary, and my motivations.
Getting invited to people's homes was not a problem in the land of Louis, even though I had to refuse invitations a few times, not wishing to stop driving in the middle of the day!
France also appeared to me as the country of cycle paths. Following river canals, old railroads or along roads, getting around by bike is a charm. On my first afternoon on the continent, it was on a cycle path that I met Véronique and Christine. They approached me, believing that I was one of the many British cyclists doing the newly popular London-Paris round trip. After a few minutes of conversation, and realizing that I was even cooler than expected (!), Véronique gives me her address in Forges-les-Eaux, and invites me to her and her partner Olivier for the evening.
There, my astonishment gives way to excitement when I see that I am offered my own room in an incredible residence. This evening will be like my trip to France. I feel at home there and I have to practically restrain myself so as not to settle in the village.
Véronique, in Forges-les-eaux.
Forges-les-Eaux, Normandy.
Getting invited out of the blue to someone totally unknown is quite a special event. From Véronique, whom I didn't know a few hours earlier, I learned that she is a landscaper in Provence, where she lived for a long time, and where she still commutes. The couple even invite me to Provence where they have a pied-à-terre, but if I accept everything, I won't arrive in Vietnam until 2023!
Continuing on my way, I knock on the door of the cottage Clos Florésine in Venette, just before Compiègne, asking if I can pitch my tent on their land. Martine and Bruno welcome me with open arms, “because of my smile” to say Martine! I will finally stay there for three meals, in addition to having my hair cut by Martine and having several beautiful conversations with them on making her dreams and her life come true. Martine is also a municipal councilor. I then noticed the complexity of French political life. Venette has 3 inhabitants, and 000 elected officials!
Martine and Bruno's gîte has been a family home for more than five generations. Bruno tells me that since its inception, this house has been open and that everyone has always been welcome. French soldiers even stayed there during their passage on foot during the Great War!
Martine and Bruno, in Venette.
Le Clos Florésine, a family house for five generations.
I notice over the meetings that the French are aware of the bad reputation that Parisians give them abroad. A little whining, not welcoming. So they do whatever they can to show that it's not true. On the contrary, the French people I saw appeared to me to be doubly polite, welcoming and endearing. Mission accomplished for them!
Stéphane, in Vouziers.
After Venette, I continue my road east and cross Reims. This is where I meet Stéphane, who has the cleanest food truck you can imagine. Talk, talk, talk, talk, Stéphane invites me to his home for the next day since I have to pass near his home, in Vouziers, where after having lived in several places in France, he came back to settle.
After some very poor choice of roads, where I crashed down into a lake of clay, and my wheels stopped rolling, stuck in the mud, I arrived at his place. "You're dirtier than yesterday, Jonathan!" He said welcoming me.
Without even being able to hold him back, he starts washing my bike and my panniers, while his wife Sandrine takes care of my clothes. I decide that in the end, I'm not in such a hurry to leave and spend the evening there. The next day, I have the right to an incredible lunch from him. My € 9 burger was definitely an incredible investment: accommodation, food, laundry, and a friend.
I then continue my journey east, towards Luxembourg. Christiana, with whom I studied at the University of Montreal and who is now a big shot lawyer in Luxembourg, welcomes me there. She pulls out a tarot deck to see what my trip has in store for me. My first card says something like "Trust life. ". Noted !
Martine and François, in Beauvais.
Towards the south, then come the cities of Metz, Nancy and Strasbourg. Along the way, I continue to meet people in many different ways. A municipal policeman stops me to talk to me about a bike for an hour, and passers-by greet me and talk to me, in town and in the countryside. A few times it's my need to refill my water bottles that gets me more than I expected.
This was the case in Beauvais in a cafe, where Martine and François invite me to their table for a hot chocolate. The waiter ends up taking a seat as well, and soon after, the whole cafe listens to my story and asks questions!
A little before Metz, towards the end of the day, I also stop at a flea market for the same reason. I hear noise in the back room and I see that there are about 8 people chatting. Of course, I join them. Jean-Pierre and his daughter Aurore invite me to their place for the evening. And the next day I will visit Metz with another sidekick from the flea market.
But what is the problem?
The problem, you guessed it, is not really one ... Because of their kindness, their welcome, their offers, I took a few detours, totaling about 300 km, and which delayed my planned route. In short, the problem with the French is that they are too welcoming!
Thonne-les-Prés, in Lorraine.
My crossing of a small part of the Vosges, between Nancy and Strasbourg.
With all this, I arrived in Basel, Switzerland, where I took two days off. I'm heading east for Zurich, then Austria and the rest of the good world. I hope other countries will be less welcoming so that I can catch up ... I have my brother to meet in Bulgaria in a month!
