French Trip- Part Two

French Trip- Part Two

Current mood:bummed

Ok so last time i wrote my blog, i left you all with the Channel Tunnel. Well now, its the actual trip. I know, its taken me forever but it takes me forever to do anything when im doing nothing. I just don't get around to it!

So we start roaming around City Europe- realise that we are incredibly hungry and sit at a food place in City Europe and i had two chocolate croissants.We went in pratically all the shops we know and love. Was really cool. Here's our shopping list:
Shower
frying pan
witch (face wash)
toothpaste
shower gel,
Disaronno
Pinot
Croissants
cake
aftershave
baking sheet
fetsa
hardys
port
cycle rack
and clothes.
If you had not noticed, a lot of that is alcohol. But it's not as though im highlighting it. Anywho...
 it was a brilliant shopping trip. And we got all we wanted (alcohol and other items), but then after the mass shopping we decided to go to a small town (well basically a larger village) to have lunch.
When we got there, it was full of cobbles and dad stalled the car twice because he was struggling on the cobbles. But it was so pretty.
We wandered around the place for a bit looking at the Boulangerie, Boulanger and local other little shops- but we were only there for one thing and one thing only...FOOD.
We found three restaurants. Try and guess which one we went for:
Restaurant number one: Was really expensive and they served rich people's food like, cavier.
Restaurant number two: Was a small little pub/cafe/restaurant thing and only served steak and chips.
Restaurant number three: Was attempting to sell itself as a multi-culteral restaurant to entise those many tourists towards it- making them feel as though they were in their confort zone.
So what one was it?
Restaurant number two was our choice.
Why? - i hear you ask.
Because it just oozed French. What's the point of going to France and sitting in a restaurant that is just full of food you can get at home or sitting in a restaurant which is too over priced, when you can sit in a smaller, local restaurant and get the whole flavour still? Exactly. There is not a point. Unless you are:
1) a snob
2) someone who refuses to try new things.
We sat down and when we sat down it was fairly empty. Just the odd family sitting slightly to our left, having a quiet drink to themselves. We did notice this lad who decided to take an entire table for five and sit at it himself- which, may i add, was the only one left in the sun.
So whilst he was sitting happy in the sunshine, the four of us, were sitting chilly in the shade. And we hated that little boy then and there.
We decided to ask what they sell and my mum, having known that i recently took a GCSE in French gave me permission to ask the nice lady.
I turned to her and said, "Are you sure?" Because i was feeling a bit nervous and i know that my mum likes to show off her skills in French as well.
"Yes im sure, go on ask..." And she beckoned me to the nice lady.
I opened my mouth and said about three French words until she cut in.
After my mum talked to the nice lady in French she turned to me and went, "They only do steak and chips. Thats perfect!"
"Mum, wasn't i supposed to be talking to her?" I snapped.
"Well yes, but you stuttered and was taking too long. Its all sorted now."
So that was that. I just accepted it and sat down.
We had our drinks given to us and had given our orders: 4 steak and chips, all well done. You see, "well done" in France is literally having it rare. So we all knew that we'd probably be sending it back asking it to be brown, not red.
We were not sitting there too long until we began to notice that a lot of people were beginning to arrive on their bikes and expecting to sit down...when there really wasn't enough room.
Turns out, Restaurant Number Two, also known as: Pub de la Mairie, was also the choice of every member who was on a biking holiday. Brilliant. What makes it worse, is that they were all English. So it was clear that it was even less French. It was as though we were just sitting in London. Which I really was not in the mood for.
So they all began to order the rounds of continuious beer and began to get more rowdy. And the little boy that we hated? He was SAVING the table for people who turned up about half an hour after. So we hated him as though he was Satan. Its the same trick people pull when you are on a holiday complex and all the sunbeds by the swimming pool are covered by towels with non existant owners to claim them. Afterall, the towel owners will probably show up- tomorrow?
Finally got our food and out of the four, mine was the one that had to be returned.
So we were sitting there for sometime and then we noticed that the massive building behind the restaurant was not only a hotel, oh no, it was also the local marriage centre.
There were two marriages that took place there.
The first marriage was laughable.
MARRIAGE NUMBER ONE
So, the French have this tradition that the guests arrive to the wedding ceremony first and then as the bride and groom arriv, the cars they are in toot and make loud noises in general.
Naturally, all the people sitting at the restaurant were bogging over and making comments.
The cars were Renault Meganes- nice and luxurious- and they were decorated full of *cheap* marriage items. The cars had minuture viels on the tyres, ribbons on the bonnet and other stuff.
But aside from all this, it was the bride and groom themselves which were the worst.
THE BRIDE= She was about six foot and carrying some weight (put in the nicest way possible) and her dress was dark green with ugly cream bits. And the people at the restaurant described her as, "Shrek!"
THE GROOM= He was about four foot and was really skinny. His suit was cream (the jacket and trousers) and the both of them looked so funny together.
MARRIAGE NUMBER TWO
This was a lot nicer. The bride wore a beautiful cream dress. The only strange thing about this wedding was that the guests were turning up in casual t-shirts and jeans. And the guy who was sitting at the restaurant the whole time knew some of the guests but instead of going to the wedding, he greeted them and then sat back down again at the restaurant observing the wedding from far away.
But the funniest thing of all was that both weddings were not getting married in the large hotel itself- they got married in this tiny room at the side and the guests were pratically sticking to the glass windows.
The cylcing people left about half an hour before we left. I've heard of drink driving but i hadnt heard of drink cycling until then- some people struggling to get back onto their bikes.
Well there was some more things that happened- apparently anyway cos i noted them down but i just really cba anymore so ill note them:
Owner of the pub- was whistling away and getting merry inside the building
Toilets- It was joined women and men. The women's single toilet was directly next to the men's urinal. The women's toilet had a door- but the men's urinal didn't- so when you walk in, you can see the guy going a wee. And then, the sink is INSIDE the urinal- so when you wash your hands, you pratically washing hands next to a guy weeing. Nice.
Waitress- Really liked us. Wanted us back the week after, but that was a bit too late notice and wants to see us again on December 18th. Keep that in your diary!
So that was the French trip!

The Channel Tunnel- The Funny Side of It

The Channel Tunnel- The Funny Side of It

This blog is about my day trip to France the other week-end, which was 3 years ago. I nabbed the following blog post from my very old MySpace account:  http://www.myspace.com/didismyspace/blog and please excuse the immature tone in which it was originally written- i was 15, coming on to 16. It was such an eventful trip that i noted down everything on my phone so i could tell all of you about it in this blog. Like, as if you really care.  


The plan was that we were going to go to France for the day to spend all of our money in City Europe and then go out of Calais to find a pretty little village where we can sit and have a peaceful dinner. Sounds like a nice day out.

So we get to the channel tunnel, as usual, and without sounding big headed, we were used to the way in which it is run and our timing was just spot on. I hate it when they ask to see your face so they can check the passport with the person. Especially when it's like half past 6 in the morning and i forgot to brush my hair. I looked a complete wreck. Imagine this, (and believe me, it isn't a nice thought), my eyes were blood shot, my make up smudged and i had this horrible frown on my face.

We begin to drive in and spot the newbies immediately. It was the car in front of us. It kept braking suddenly whenever it thought that the tiny gap in the brick was the turn in to the car park.

So we get into the little building where you can buy real cheap perfume and other bits and bobs for last minute worries and forgots. Which is very handy.
 
We were starving. Me and Adelle thought that we were going to have breakfast at the Channel Tunnel. In this little building there are other little restaurants where you can eat massive English breakfasts- you know the sort, mouth watering sausages, sizzling bacon, extraordinary eggs and beans. But no. Our fantasies where ruined because our parents thought that it was pointless to have breakfast there when we can have a cheaper breakfast in France. Which meant waiting a longer and an extra hour. By now, I was wasting away.

We then get called. Well, for the final call, anyway. We weren't in much of a rush. So we go to the Train...but first before you even get on the train- you have to go through these barrier things...and they are really LOW. And even in our Jaguar, which is quite low, it really looked as though we were going to have a massive metal pole smash into our roof. Despite the many years we have done this, the panic still happens.
 
Finally get unto the train, and we're on the top floor which in a bazaar way makes the channel tunnel seem that much more exciting. Its only exciting because the rest of it isn't. And you feel really privileged and different. Although its not. Because when you actually get into the Tunnel- its just darkness outside the windows, the occasional white light whipping past every now and then.

Now i don't know if you (who is currently reading this) has ever been on the Channel Tunnel- but if you  ever have been on the Channel Tunnel then you might remember the little announcements they do before you go. Reminding you to not use cameras because the flash affects their train mechanical things on board, telling you to keep a window, sunroofs and other stuff open and to stay in first gear- otherwise there will be trouble. And, for obvious reasons, they announce this in English and then French.

The English voice is really old and posh- the stereotypical thought of an English man. And he's generally dull and uninspiring for us English people to hear.

But the French lady is much different. She has a really sexy voice and although all she's saying is, "make sure you are in gear one" it sounds as though she is trying to entice you into bed with her. Which is totally unfair.

So that's part one of my journey to France...we haven't even got to France yet! And there's a lot more of that i need to talk to you about! But that's all i can be bothered to mention for now and i shall leave you in no suspense and absolutely no curiosity over what happens next. Enjoy your lives. Dee