No, it's something else. Didn't anyone see that Faulty Towers episode "Don't mention the war"? (If you haven't seen it, click on the link ;-).
Well, war talk is all I hear from around me during breakfast. And it's not 1066-Tapestry-war talk. It's WW II talk.
Others have been looking at web-sites that show some spitting on the American flag and can't stop talking about it. Wow.
The breakfast room (like the hotel and the entire town) contains various wall hangings (posters, pictures?) depicting the tourist attractions of Bayeux. Yes, many of these include American flags, but there is one depicting a section of THE tapestry. And it happens to be right next to the table of the two American ladies that have been watching flag spittings. One of them points at it and says, and I kid you not "Some kind of weaving thing".
|"some kind of weaving thing"|
When I finally write this post on July 3rd and look for a suitable tapestry image on Google to highlight the American woman, I realize with HORROR that the whole wanting to get out of Americanized Bayeux made me skip the actual tapestry. Now I have to GO BACK and deal with the Americans all over again!
Another thing one learns quickly in France: You greet people on the street or where ever in French "Bon jour, Madame/Monsieur" quickly becomes second nature, even though Germans sometimes overdo it. So when I come back from a morning walk and the person smoking in front of the hotel door, who I have never see before, loudly exclaims "Good Mornin' ", I just know that I NEED to get OUT of here.
|NOT travelling light. More suitcases than people.|
|The reward of not riding on a freeway ;-)|
|The mother of all poppies along the roadside|
|Not my picture|
At the time I didn't take pictures of the restaurant and I didn't know exactly where I was, but using Google Maps I sherlocked this was the A La Sienne Sarl restaurant close to Hyenville.
Then it's 22 kms in heavy wind and pouring rain. There is literally not a single dry thread in my clothing or hair on my body when I reach Granville. Yes, I should have taken rain gear along ;-) When I enter the hotel, there is an elderly lady at the reception trying to convince the receptionist that No, there must be a room for me tomorrow. You can't be full. I'm just rolling my eyes and dripping on the floor while exchanging occasional glances with the receptionist who by the nature of her job is forbidden from rolling her eyes. The same happened two years ago. You had a room for me then! Something about the lady's English pronunciation marks her as being from a country different than England. The utter stubbornness also goes along with that guess.
|Also dripping wet. Sadly I didn't look that good ;-(|
"Oh No, what's the problem?" she says. GOT YOU, I was right about your nationality I muse. Of course, when I have to spell my last name to the receptionist, she has to comment "You are German! So am I !!!'
Congratulations, that's 100 rubber points for you lady!
I get my room, drop my wet clothes, take a shower, dress, and go out for a smoke. She's still in the reception trying to have the receptionist turn off gravity ;-)
|There IS some blurring in the wind generator. Seen with the bare eye, it looked like|
|Many French coastal towns have swimming pools on the beach that get filled by sea water at high tide.|
|12,500 inhabitants NEED a cathedral|
|Evening: The rain has stopped and the sun is trying to push through|