Vignettes of France

There’s a misconception that the French are rude… but if I lived in France I don’t think I could stand the tourists.

Never have I been in a another country where tourists so readily disregard a country’s native tongue. During a dinner at a brasserie by the Trocadéro in Paris I witnessed the typical American tourist and I could feel nothing but embarrassment.

“You got any bourbon?” He drawled in lazy English as the waiter looked baffled.

“You know, BURR-BUN WISS-KEY!”

He made an off-hand comment about the French people as he shooed away the poor waiter with his wine-list.

It felt like such a stark contrast in experiences as I enjoyed a superb meal that was made with pride. The steak was beautifully seared and basted; the fries, hand-cut and cooked to perfection. Even the humble side salad was composed of the freshest butter lettuce I’ve ever eaten. The waiter (who was patient with my garbage French) recommended the best pairing of wine that I still dream about to this day– a red Brouilly 🥰

Onward to Normandy

Along the northern coast lies a small picturesque town called Étretat. Kelsie and I picked a small seafood restaurant for dinner and were sat next to another tourist couple.

At this point of the trip we had been in France for a little over a week, and I could speak enough French to not rely on English at all in a restaurant– even if I had to count on my fingers to remember cinq is five 😅

As I enjoyed my delicious sole meunière, our tourist neighbors took out their phone for the waitress and were insistently pointing to a picture of a lobster. Needless to say, the waitress was incredibly confused– it wasn’t on the menu or even remotely native to the area.

I suppose travel only broadens the mind insofar as one allows him/herself to be open to another’s culture.