I was walking to the Super U tonight to buy a couple of things for dinner. But rounding the corner and coming over the hill, I noticed that the giant U was not lit up in its bright red Super U glory, nor were there any cars in the parking lot. Alas, the Super U was closed because I forgot that it is Sunday in Europe. Much like the two hour lunches and how things close at 8 pm on a normal day anyway, I am once again reminded that I am in a foreign land, and I am spoiled by living in America. Spoiled by having access to whatever I want at almost any time of day, and also in thinking that it I should have that access.
(Which brings me to a quick comment about Wal-Mart. I know that we all have our own opinions about Wal-Mart; many of us hate it as one of the big box stores which is no good for independent business, and most of us shop there anyway. I would just like to point out that Wal-Mart exists as a by-product of our economic system, one which allows competition and supplies a demand in product, cost, and time. While there are obvious draw backs to the big box store model, it exists because of our economic system, which I will stand by as one of the best in the world. I mean who wants to buy underwear outside in the winter?)
Anyway, instead of turning around, or even being disappointed, I walked a little bit further to the bridge that crosses into Millau proper and down to the river bank. In the misty, foggy, evening, I was staring at the water amazed that it is yet another color of water I have come across. Is it the day, the time, the fog? I don't know, but the more-blue-then-green teal color of the water had me staring at it for a while. I am attaching a picture, but unfortunately the evening darkness effects the coloring in the photo, and even photoshopped it doesn't come out quite right. (Also, my camera seems to be on the fritz...as soon as it dies that is every single that I brought me, broken or gone; it's amazing what you think you need that ou don't really...)
Millau is a little smaller than Bozeman in population. The buildings are all a pinky tan color, with mostly red rooves dotting the densely built skyline from our view here on the hill overlooking the town. With the fresh, wet, green of this early and rainy spring, Millau is certainly a better place to be than Russia or Montana (if only for weather). Most of the cars stop for me as a pedestrian, but I wonder if they can tell by looking at me, or perhaps just because I am walking where they are driving, that I am a foreigner, an American. I imagine that my shoes or my coat give me away. Still, I try to blend in by saying Bonjour, and Au Revoir when I walk in and out of shops. I can figure out the French well enough to buy groceries so far. And we have a coffee maker here, though I have been drinking just as much (or more) tea over the last month, and dare I say that I even like it!
(And just to put your minds at ease, I had a lovely dinner anyway; a French-bacon and potato "scramble" with garlic and cream, topped with melted cheese and Creme Fraise (a sour cream like substance) and of course, a little French red wine. I may become something a cook after all.
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