France Day 11 – African/American




*I’m on vacation, hopefully far away from a computer, so my blog is going on vacation too, back to May 2008, during my first trip to France with my shiny brand new passport and my shiny brand new French boyfriend. This was my first trip abroad and I’m surprised David didn’t dump me when we got home*



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After another Bullet Train Trip, we arrive in Renne, which is where David lived before he moved to California. Now before I get into all the fun and adventures of day eleven, let me explain my idea of being on time for a train, and David’s idea of being on time.
In my mind, if I make it onto the train before it departs, even if it’s already moving, I’m on time.

 In David’s mind he has to be at the platform an hour early and be the very first person to set foot on the train in order to be on time. See how there could be some friction there?

I have missed many, many a train in my life. In fact I’ve missed Planes Trains and Automobiles.

David however, never has. We are especially lucky to be incorporating David’s train riding method, because the next day the trains won’t be running because of a (scheduled) strike.



Renne is less impressive and less stressful than Paris so I LOVE IT. I don’t feel like I should be taking pictures all the time or rushing to the next national monument. This is a relief because my eyeballs are full.








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We stop and check on David’s condo which is smaller than I imagined. It’s a great place but I’m realizing that everything in France is small and economical. The cars, the hotels, the closets, the cafes, the stores, the food, the refrigerators.

I guess I am just used to american size mass consumption, and speaking of which I brought WAY too many clothes, which is annoying, but what’s really annoying is thinking about the tons of clothes I left at home that I obviously can do without.


The only thing in France that I notice is wasteful is that nobody drinks tap water? What’s wrong with tap water? Californias is filled with prozac and fire retardants and I still drink it. Hmmmmm. Maybe that’s what’s missing on this trip…… my daily dose of tainted H2O….




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We wonder around and stop at a park where I write some postcards (including one for Maza) and then leave for the suburbs where David’s old neighbors live in a beautiful three story house with these three adorable creatures:





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The youngest keeps calling me confusing the words American and African, so she keeps referring to me as “The African”.
We have a delicious bbq outside and then everyone starts yawning, which is odd because it’s still very light out. But it’s really 9:30, so we all go to bed.
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