Jour 6 - Legay Choc

I saw “Burger Queen” on the big red sign of a store front and smiled. I took the camera from my shoulder and readied it for use as I approached. Someone came rushing out speaking in French, to which I announced with authority, “J’ai ne parlent par Francais! (I don't speak French!)" I said it so well that he probably thought I was lying. Switching to agitated English he continued, ‘why you want to take picture of my garden?’ I thought, ‘why are you speaking of garden?’, but replied, "because in America we have ‘Burger King’, and I think it’s funny”. He nodded with understanding and went back inside.

“Garden” in French apparently means more than the area where produce is grown, and more than the manicured grounds around a structure. I asked Ceren, and what it really means is “property”.

Sandrine from Lille suggested I learn one new French word a day, and Ceren increased the challenge. Let’s go with three new French words a day. Today they are “brasserie” (brewery), “boucherie” butchery), and “poissonnerie” (fish market).

Nortre Dame de Paris

At crosswalks, you can not see the traffic lights (where as you can everywhere else in the world I’ve been) because they're installed 1-2 meters above the ground between the pedestrian crossing and the approaching traffic. A pedestrian is blind to the stop light. So, if you’re like me and can’t wait for the walk sign to turn green, then you give a quick assessment of the situation (e.g. Why the hell is all this traffic just siting here!) and you shoot across the pedestrian crossing while keeping your eyes on the eager motorists held from action by some mysterious source. I did this and then almost got run over by a bicyclist doing 30 km on the bike lane! I forget about the bike lanes… I see motorcycles using it sometimes too.

New vs. Old; Central Paris

I was standing in line to purchase something and a man starts asking me something in French. For a second time today I exclaimed in a most confident manner, “J’ai ne parlent par Francais! (I don't speak French!)" He let out a little chuckle and then softly said in English, “well, a little”. What’s humorous to me is that the only thing we established in the exchange is my French speaking inability and that we both speak English. Why didn’t he continue in English?

Giant Red Portes (Doors)

This was my first day to see central Paris, which is home to icons such as THE Nortre Dame and The Louve. There is so much beauty here, so much history and grand architecture, that I didn't even know where to begin or what photos to take that might somehow capture the essence of what I was seeing. So instead of filling the blog with postcard photos of say Hotel de Vil, I’m sharing a few images that seemed unique or subtle in the landscape.

After a six-hour walk through Paris, I met Ceren, Iris, and Justine for a picnic on an island of La Seine River. We sat on a cobble stone path eating typically-French foods such as tapas (octopus with ink), rillettes du mans (a shredded pork product of the Bordeaux region), comte (a type of cheese), and of course lots of bread and wine. Long, low-profile river boats, usually carrying a hundred passengers or more, continually passed by. The pedestrian areas filled to full picnicking capacity as the evening approached a sunset.

Justine and Sylvain along La Seine (photo by Ceren)

We were joined late by Ceren’s friend Sylvain who I had also met in Sydney back in December. It was fun talking with him about our impressions of Australia and the desire to do more travel in general.

So, to the name of the today's blog – “Legay Choc”. Earlier in the afternoon, I was searching for a boulangerie (bakery) to purchase breads and pastries for the picnic. As I was passing through yet another narrow cobblestone street, I glanced over to an alleyway and noticed two guys making out. ‘I’ll pretend I didn’t see that’, was my thought and I continued on. Then right away on the other side of the street I see the word “Boulangerie”. Bingo! My worries were over, and I went inside to collect my treats. The young man at the counter kept “checking me out” as I made my selections. ‘Could you be any more obvious?’, I thought.

Iris, Ceren, and Justin at Picnic

Later, at the picnic, Ceren was opening some of the wrappings and asked, ‘do you know what this means?’, pointing to the words of ‘legay choc’ printed on a pastry box. ‘No, what?’, I replied. “This is a gay bakery”, she announced. We laughed and continued to enjoy the scrumptious peach tarts. I think somebody commented, ‘if I eat this, will it make me gay?’ Regardless, French gay cuisine is delicious!

Iris along La Seine (photo by Ceren)

A Subtle Mural

Première Expérience de la France

 Jour 6 – Legay Choc

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