Deeanne Gist - www.deeannegist.com - Inspirational Romance Author

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Tuesday, February 28, 2006

France

The French Riviera was not at all what two sheltered college girls were expecting. The year is 1981 and my college roommate and I are touring Europe. (Click here for details.)

The first shock was that their beaches have pebblestones instead of sand. Not exactly conducive to laying out on your towel. So, DJ and I thought we were so clever "sneaking in" to the roped off area of the beach that had beach chairs. As it turns out, the guys running the place turned a blind eye because we were blonde American girls out having a lark. Plus, I think they were highly entertained with our reactions to what the French consider a one-piece swimsuit.

Every other person on that beach (and I mean everyone) had on one-pieces. Except theirs were one piece of a two-piece, if you know what I mean. Didn't matter the age. Didn't matter the size. Didn't matter the sex. Nobody had on a top (except for me and DJ). Young, buxom 16 year old girls and old shriveled up grannies alike ran, played and swam along the shore.

DJ and I were shocked right down to our very toes and quickly focused our attention on our card game. Later that evening, we were on our way to dinner when some rambunctious fellas whistled and shouted and tried desperately to get our attention. The two of us had become quite accustom to totally ignoring such outbursts and continued walking by engrossed in our own conversation.

It wasn't until we heard one of them yell, "Gig 'em, Aggies!" that we ground to a halt and turned around. American boys! Not only that ... but American boys from our very own university: Texas A&M!! We were so happy to see them (though we'd never met them) and boy did they give us a hard time for being so hoity-toity in ignoring them.

We went to dinner with them at a French cafe. Everyone in France takes their dogs everywhere. The waitress even came to our table to get our order with her red lab at her feet. She picked him up by his front paws, waved one of them to us and said, "Bonjour!"

Amazing. We ordered burgers and fries (of course) and when I asked for catsup, the boys waved their hands in the air saying, "No, no! She didn't mean that. She's just a silly American." Seems asking for catsup is an insult to the chef. I was not a happy camper. I am a catsup fanatic and eat them on every single fry.

We assured the boys they could join us the next day at our loungue chairs on the beach for no charge. After all, we'd been there for two days now and had never been charged. So, they stopped by the next morning for a round of Spades. Hadn't even finished dealing the first hand when those waiters showed up and charged the boys, but not me and DJ. Ha!

Tomorrow ... two American girls in Paris.

posted by Deeanne at 12:06 PM

4 Comments:

Barb said...: I remember Cassis--blue blue blue and so sunny! The sorts of memories you relish in the middle of a Midwestern winter! And those French doggies are much better behaved than ours would be in stores and restaurants!
TS said...: Deeanne,

We will be in France later this week! A little research for my sequel, don't you know?

Blessings
Deeanne said...: Alas, TS, I've no immediate plans to return--but don't let that stop you. You can go on without me and then tell us of your adventures!
Meg said...: The photo of the coast looks a lot like Santa Barbara, CA, my alltime favorite town. When I was 18 or 19, I went with a friend to a beach south of there--Summerland, I think--and neither one of us noticed the "clothing optional" sign. Yes, we were shocked. We stayed for a while, averting our eyes like good girls. Thanks for resurrecting a funny memory for me!