Vive Le France
Yesterday morning (while Karen and Mike were getting Simon from the airport) Cary, Mark and I sat in the square of L’isle Sur Le Sorgues at the, appropriately named, Cafe De France and watched the market bustling around us.
The woman at the flower stall was making hand-tied bouquets of the most incredible flowers, turning and turning them around in her hand, as she placed each bloom carefully in the right place.
The family at the next table had a fun faux-argument, which involved a lot of laughter and kicks under the table.
The really French-looking man in the wondow drank about 6 petit-cafe’s and smoked his Gitanes through the side of his mouth.
The church bells tolled out the beginning of the eucharist inside, and a white dove appeared in the tree above us.
We were mainly silent. We shook our heads and soaked it in like a breath of pure oxygen.
Interesting, but you’re obviously not very highly educated.