The Three Musketeers

Originally, this post was to be titled "Let's all get rich and buy villas in the south of France." When I started writing it in my notebook, I was not having a good time. Since then, a few amazing rides and a day at the lake has changed my perspective quite a bit. Some of my original comments still hold water, so I'll start there.

 Didn't an invasion start here at some point?

France is a country that is incredible to travel if you have the funds to explore it. The trains and train stations are in excellent conditions, the tourist attractions are simply spectacular and the hotels very comfortable. It offers some of the nicest spots to have a holiday, with stunning countryside to drive through and equally stunning destinations. This is my summary of France for those of you who wish to have a holiday in the country: pay for your stay and you will absolutely love it, especially cities like Bordeaux.

I didn't take too many pictures in Bordeaux, but it was stunning.

Before I jump into the next part, allow me to say that I have found a small slice of paradise on the coast, in a small village called St. Lunaire. I did not take many pictures, this little wonderful place will remain my own. If you wish to see it, visit it personally. It is worth the trip.

No flash photography please.

If you're not someone that enjoys traditional holidays, if you're someone that, like me, demands something more from life, then France is a tricky country. I had a fairly negative experience overall in the first five days and ended it off on a very high note. I only saw a small part of France and I did not give it all the time it deserves, so keep in mind my experiences were limited.

I started outside of Calais and decided to have a mini adventure in searching for surfable beaches. The search began in Pontorson, after a long and tiring ride with a slightly racist man. My coast hopping was not to be, sadly, as French farmers on strike closed off all the major highways and left the entire country in a massive traffic jam. Not only did this make my journey painfully slow, it meant more tourists driving along the non-tourist roads so getting a lift was near impossible. The beaches I did manage to reach were not ideal either.

Sadly most beaches I found looked something like this.

So surfing was not to be and I decided to experience a bit more of the people and the countryside. It turns out that, once you leave the main road (as I am wont to do), France is not that special. Perhaps my expectations were simply too high, but I expected more from the country than unkept roads, overgrown fields and dirty villages. Non-tourist destinations are, for lack of a better descriptions, unkept and ugly. I speculate that it has to do with the very lazy attitude I had encountered so far in France.

Don't get me wrong - some places are magnificent, from culture to architecture to landscapes. However, once you move out of the tourist sphere it becomes clear where France spends its money - on tourist attractions.

Instead of focusing on the country, I turned my attention to the people. In every place I had traveled in so far, my preconceptions were blown out of this universe. Germany had some of the nicest and friendlist people I have ever met, Austria turned out to be paradise, and the Czech Republic was just surreal. France, however, was nearly spot on. I had been warned by numerous drivers, hosts and friends that the French are a strange bunch; snobby, snide and cold. For the most part, this was my experience of them. Additionally, many of them lacked basic maners and understanding of what they're doing - more drivers threw their trash out of the window of the moving car than into a trash container, and the same goes for outside the car - which made me very upset.

I want to point out here that a large percentage of the French population does speak English, they simply refuse to do so. I have had several encounters where people openly refused to speak English to me, while either before or after conversing fluently in it. The most memorable was asking a guy for directions, to which he angrily shoed me away in French. When he deemed I was out of earshot, he turns to his friend and says; "F**** tourists, so annoying."

Socially, it is an entirely different culture from the rest of Europe. While every country has its own perks, flaws and unique flavors, everywhere I traveled (aside from the Czech Republic) had a very open and welcoming society. France cut me off the moment it realized I had no money. I quickly went from an interested traveler to a piece of trash in the eyes of people I encountered. I won't lie here, I did get very upset after three consecutive racist lifts talking purely about the biological inferiority of non-caucasian races and after being straight up ignored when I explained what I was doing.

These guys were very bad for business.

By Friday, as I was sitting in Bordeaux, I had had enough. I already had to city hop three times and asked horrible drivers to drop me off at the next stop for a made up reason, I was tired of being treated like slime. I had learned some French in an effort to connect to the people, but I was being ridiculed for my horrible French and turned away for speaking English. I had one spectacular ride and a bunch of horrible ones that overshadowed the lovely time I spent in an old lady's car. My best ride had been with an English guy I asked directions from next to the road. I noped the hell out of there and got on my way as quickly as I could.

What happened next completely changed my attitude. As I was attempting to catch a ride from Bordeaux down to Bayonne, the closest town to Spain on the highway, the farmers blocked off the highway and traffic stood still for almost an hour. Being a stubborn South African, I decided to walk down the highway and find some place that cars were moving and catch a ride there. Nearly thirty minutes of walking later, I had covered more distance than any of the cars and had a few chats with Dutch and English tourists while they cooked on the highway. As the cars started moving, I was hailed by a few French girls in a van. A minute or two later, as traffic flowed again, they picked me up.

They were headed to a nearby town to go to the beach and I was more than willing to go along. We stopped at their house first to have some coffee and bread, I had a nap in the hammock while they sorted their stuff, and then we went to a lake instead of the seaside. It was magical. The one girl played the ukelele and sang, the rest of us hummed and drank beer, after a swim in a fantastic lake.

Some musketeers on their way home.

The water was about 1m deep for a good while before getting deeper, allowing you to perfectly determine the temperature you wanted.

A few rides later I was picked up by an old lady and drove along with her on her detours. In Bayonne, she offered me dinner and I accepted. Afterwards, as it turned out it was already dark, she offered me a room, which I also gladly accepted.

Shelves and shelves full of the stuff. It was like heaven. Except I can't read French.

In this room, her daughter's, I found an awesome bass guitar, several manga volumes, books and anime's that I very much enjoyed. It was like being in a room the female version of me would have. A shower, a good night's rest and breakfast later, I was on my way to Spain. I left France on a very happy note, singing along loud and off-key to tropical music. Thanks to d'Artagnan (the old lady who offered me dinner and a room) and the three musketeers (the French girls who took me for an afternoon at the lake), I loved the last two days in France.

Sometimes the good seeks you out. Sometimes, you have to dig for it. Whichever the case, you'll find amazing people and places everywhere you go if you're open to it.