Coutances, France
Off a back farm yard next to the farm dump. With April gone, so has the magic of finding sweet camping spots:(. Although last nights was nice: off a rail trail at a gate to a horse pasture. This morning I found out 4 donkeys (or mules...wish I knew how to differentiate...note to self) also resided in that pasture and they liked to paw the plastic buckets earlier and also heehaw the most godawful sound that would wake the dead. How can that gut wrenching noise come out of that sweet animal? I'd never heard anything like it. Won't be animals tonight. Just me and the blackberries. I'd continue on to see what's up ahead, but I don't want to pass this town and it's only a couple of miles away. I need to get to the Orange shop to get my phone card straightened out.
I'm speaking French. It's rusty and people who stopped and asked me a question start to turn away but I ask them to forgive me and try again. Some are more patient than others. My mind races to find those words not used for 45 years. When I get my phone working again I'm going to look some lost or new words up. I just need them to talk slower. And I ask them to do that. Slow, like my bike:)
The French don't like to wave, I've noticed. After weeks of people waving or lifting at least a finger when they pass me, this staring with no acknowledgement is a bit weird. I wave. Nothing. I think in 3 days 2 people have waved. Oh well. Just different. It's hard not being able to chat people up because that's what I do. I hope it gets easier each day. I'll keep trying. I had a woman today say I spoke good French. All I had asked her was "parlez-vous englais?" (Do you speak English?). It forces me to stumble along throwing words at her to get my message across. Then I grope to understand what she's saying back to me. Pride goes out the window when communication is necessary:). And I can easily laugh at myself! Just happy for the connection!!
Off to wash up and fix some dinner. Maybe just zucchini and Parmesan. Maybe noodles too. I'm pretty tired. 22 miles on a gravel-y, flat rail trail is exhausting. I averaged only 5 mph and I worked for every one!
I thought I was done writing for tonight, but I just had in interlude with the farmer. Imagine my surprise when a truck pulls in up the road! In my broken French I ask him if this is a problem and he shakes his head. All I can think about is having to pack up and move on. I'm too tired. As I struggle to respond, he breaks into a smile and says it's fine. Then I get the usual questions about feast and being alone and then a new one...is that tent for 2 people or just one? What is he insinuating?!! Just one, I respond even though it's a 2 person tent. This after telling me I'm a beautiful woman. And I laugh. Then I ask him the French word for blackberry and he mentions that all the farmers here make it into jam. And he said he grew a lot of corn. Then he wished me a goodnight, all the while pondering why anyone would do what I do. You could read it in his face. Murphy's Law, isn't it? How many times have you pulled I to a driveway to turn around just to have the homeowners want to pull in behind you? It happens to me a lot! Tonight was a perfect example. Oh well. Now I'm camping with permission!
Livin' the life,
BagLady
Facebook: Kathryn Mossbrook Zimmerman
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