Bob and Gayle's France Trip

Why French Women Are Sexy?

Why French Women Are Sexy?

The clouds stuck to us like cotton candy to a child at the fair. I decided to spend some quality time studying the French women to try and determine where the sexy allure originates from. Good news, I have solved the mystery and potentially saved American women countless sums on cosmetics and implants. The source via Bob (in French “Bubb”) the oracle, comes from the mouth. French women tend to purse their upper lip. Much like you or I might do if we notice a loved one with dog do-do on their shoe. One good look at that and “ooh” naturally comes out of our mouth. The French language is full of that nasal “ooh”, even “yes” in French comes out, “oui” which ends in the upper lip contracting on itself. If you do this enough times you strengthen that upper lip thereby fostering that pouty, and mysterious mystique that French women ooze. So when you next visit Paris and a beautiful French women looks at you with an enigmatic expression it might be because you look “ooh” good or it could be that you have dog poop on your shoe!

As I mentioned in my last blog report, our internet access in our apartment has gone on holiday. After a brief foray to the market near our house, I strapped on my “green monster” backpack and inserted our 20 pound Dell laptop. The bad news is I think I have gained a kilogram, the good news is that the backpack has me on an impromptu exercise regime out searching for that free wireless internet location. We started walking through the Jardin Des Plantes, the garden of plants which logically also houses a cat house and a monkey house. This is not the pouty lip cat house.

We ran across a class of French kindergarten kids walking in the alpine garden. Alpine garden in France is basically the contents of a Sequim Sedum pot. As we got closer I heard the teacher say. “Enfants, jsdfjoieioidjdn, lsjfifiu, skjejre,….” The kids replyed, “Une fleur, madksdfkn, kjdsfjd, kdkjd” Not being a French speaker I think that conversation goes, “Children what is this?”, reply “It’s a flower Mrs. Tjemsland!!!” I may have missed a few of the finer points but that is the gist of it. The class them moved to another spot and I heard the teacher say the same thing and the kids replied, “It’s a flower Mrs. Tjemsland.” I sense a bright future for the notable French bureaucracy.

Our historically favorite market street is the Rue Mouffetard. Currently our new favorite is the Rue Poncelet. But we all want to spend some time walking in histories footsteps, so we had to browse the Mouffetard. It was charming, though a little drizzly. At some point we got hungry and decided upon a busy little sandwich maker whose store was so small that a cute little 6 seat café looked vast in comparison. Students were hovering all around the shop waiting for fresh made galettes. Students are blamed for most of the civil unrest in France but they have an uncanny sense of fair food at fantastic prices. Since we didn’t see any gendarmes (police). I figured we’d found an economic, gastronomic find!

Several times we have run into a sea of blue gendarmes with Plexiglas shields, tear gas dispensers, football helmets with view screens and other riot paraphernalia, and yet we have seen no rioters or unrest. The flics (cops) are all lined up, front to back, or shoulder-to-shoulder, looking grim and serious much like a French waiter when you ask for the bill. When asked what is happening, we are told that the students are not happy with some law. The law apparently is, “if you wait long enough, the riotous students will come!” After a long wait, trucks appeared and the flics were whisked from the streets. Why did they leave? “It’s time for lunch of course!” It’s interesting to note that during this near riot, the busy Parisans, only slightly veered their course around this cordon of blue.

Back to Galettes. Galettes are tasty buckwheat crepes, these being filled with handfuls of emmenthaler cheese, ham, eggs, mushrooms, lettuce and tomato. By the time it’s done, it’s like a two handed ice cream cone wrapped in foil and paper towels. I was pleasantly full and my protein/fat meter was pegged. I sensed my doctor in Port Angeles contemplating a fresh battery of tests. I am way beyond hardening of the arteries and am now working on hardening of my feet and legs.

I suppose you’re wondering about the green machine strapped to Bob’s back. At the end of the Mouffetard, there is a little shop full of ceramics and colorful dishware from Provence. Because of my temporary extended girth, I decided to stay outside and find someplace to sit. As I sat there knowing my plastic was doing all the work in that shop, I decided to pull out my laptop and try the airwaves. Voila, I found a free internet connection and we was able to update the last blog and send a few messages out. You will see a picture of me frantically abusing someone’s internet for a few minutes. It’s for a worthy cause; I need to keep you all informed. Well Ta Ta for now!


Picture Set 1
Picture Set 2

posted by Bob and Gayle @ 1:49 PM