September 14th, 2004

This IS me (by schwitters)Default

The Wrong Side of the Road

We went to France, and it was great.

Straight off the ferry onto the autoroute, which was much less scary than anticipated. The motorway was almost deserted apart from vast numbers of flying insects which splattered themselves all over my visor and just-cleaned vehicle.

It was very weird driving on the right. I remained constantly afraid that I would find myself head-to-head with a large lorry, and it took me a while to work out which lane I should be in at roundabouts and which way I should indicate when coming off them. (I didn't see many French drivers signal at all, mind.) French roadsigns are also peculiar.

Never mind - we made it. Left Lewisham at ten past two; arrived at the hotel in Arques at ten past nine French time.

More later.
  • Current Mood
    tired tired
This IS me (by schwitters)Default

A, B, C, Vitamin D

I love going to foreign supermarkets. It's a strange, childish obsession, but I like to see what's the same and what's different, what cartoon characters adorn the breakfast cereal, the strange and exotic flavours of chocolate and the many types of alcohol. Needless to say, I almost exploded with delight when I got to visit a Wal-Mart last year.

So I made a point of visiting the Arques branch of Intermarché, which carries the added bonus of having a musketeer logo, and bought a pack of raspberry BNs - a large, square sandwich biscuit of which I'm very fond.

Glancing at the pack just now, I noticed that the biccies contain not only vitamins E and B1, but PP.

Trust the French to have a Vitamin Pi-pi.
  • Current Mood
    amused amused
This IS me (by schwitters)Default

Quadrupedestrian

I almost ran over a fox on the way back from karate.

I was going too fast, he was going too slowly, and we were both looking the wrong way.

Looked at the road ahead - clear. Looked in my mirror. Looked at the road: a large, young and handsome fox was standing smack in the middle of my lane, caught in my headlight and with his head turned away from me.

A sharp intake of breath, a dinky swerve to the right while praying that Reynard wouldn't panic and throw himself under my wheels, and we went our separate ways. Looking in the mirror, I was relieved to see that he had changed his mind about crossing the road at that particular spot - though judging by the jaunty way he trundled back onto the verge, I was far more alarmed by the incident than he was.
  • Current Mood
    guilty guilty