 |
| No, I didn't take this pic. Although I wish I had. |
Ride Day: (Yesterday) Mont Ventoux
Pictures: here
Video: here
Sometimes I struggle to choose what to write about and I was just sitting here doing that very thing in my hotel room when the in-hotel phone rings.
"Allo?"
"Yes, Mr. Tolsdorf. It is the reception. Congratulations. Congratulations on the videos and the photos and the blog, and Mont Ventoux," and the sincerity in his voice is apparent.
"Ah, thank you, merci," and now I am smiling too, "Thank you for the call."
"Yes, of course. Bon Soiree." And he tails off with a laugh.
I had just gotten back from my dinner and there were four of the staff huddled over the concierge's phone, (it is a sunday night and there is nothing for them to do), and they are looking at something and laughing. I knew as soon as I opened the door, they would all hurry away and act all proper again but I stood there in front of the door and watched as they all laughed.
So, this is how it came to be that my phone is ringing with a man with a compliment on the other end:
I walk in and they do scurry, but not too far away because I tell them that since they are bored, look up my blog. He finds it, and clicks on the videos, and they all huddle around as I wish them a good night and tell them to enjoy.
 |
| Paris-Nice is coming! (3.8.12) |
And I remember my friend asking me in the very beginning of all this: "why make it public?" And I think I said "why not make it public?" But for those of you have also followed from the beginning know...I have always remained firmly on that fence. Moments like the one that just occurred, well, those moments make me feel like I made the right choice.
And moreover, I don't think many people realize what it is like to spend 160 days or more in a foreign bed, in a foreign place, and have dinner alone all (or 95%) of those days, all in restaurants mind you, not in the comfort of your own home with a good movie, but with couples and groups all around you. And drive alone. And walk alone. And bike alone.
So the real reason I make it public is to have company with me along the journey. Because I can see how many people read, and watch the videos, so I know when I'm sharing right, and when I'm just babbling.
Anyone who lives by that old credo that the French are rude and uncaring probably never went out of Paris, and are missing the point altogether. This being my third time here, I have never found them to be anything but warm, light, and welcoming.
Of course there are a number of peculiar things that you must know that will help, and they're quite simple. Greeting everyone is a necessity and failing to do so, even to a super-market clerk, is considered a great insult. And even a remote attempt at their language will put you far ahead of the field.
And if you do speak French and you are traveling here, despite what anyone may have taught you, you will never, and should never be using the formal (tu) but always the polite (vous).
Saying "ca va?"(how are you?) to someone you have just met is the equivalent of saying "whats up bitch?" Maybe three days later it is appropriate, but not the first thing you want to ask.
And also, on that note, which I LOVE, it is also an insult to ask someone who you have just met what their occupation is. It undermines the general sense of equality and privacy that is taken very seriously.
You may have heard me complain about the "So, what do you do?" question that is asked almost ubiquitously across the US within seconds of meeting someone. Fuckin hate it.
 |
| Having a laugh with the boys in Bordeaux. |
If you wear shorts and a baseball hat to a nice restaurant then you will be shunned. Not because they are rude, but because you are being rude, and there is this pride. Pride in all things cultural. Pride in formality and grace and the way "things have always been." No, they do not like change.
And unlike America, where even the biggest dee-bag customer is "always right," if you insult them like this, then there is unlikely to be any kowtowing coming your way.
Take it or leave it, all that they ask is that you have respect. Give it and you'll get it. There could be more of that in this world, to be honest; just don't be an asshole.
I have said before that the French have a curious sense of humor and a way of living that fits my constitution. And what I meant by that was the little things like the "amuse bouche" that is served prior to your meal. It means appetizer, but literally it means "mouth amuser" as if your mouth had to have a little laugh in order to be talked into having a full meal.
And the way of living part: well, that's simple. Have a little work, have a big lunch, close down, maybe have a nap, open back up, have a few drinks and a coffee, and then return home. Or if it is a Friday or Saturday night, go out and have a celebration.
Now, you may say this: "well, that's exactly why the country is an underachiever! Such arrogance and yet such decline!"
 |
| The big one is a decanter... |
Yes, of course anyone is welcome, but regardless of where you may have originated, if you live here now, then you are first and foremost, French.
And when it comes to food, well, I think you may have heard that they pretty much kick-ass at that. And that is no lie. But the best part, again, is the very transparent pride in it. Yeah, there are pizza shops and McDonald's but that's modern France, and I can tell you that the McDonalds are only by the highways.
And for those of you who say, "Ah, if it weren't for us, it would be Germany," well I obviously can't discount that entirely, but I will remind you that it was France who originally supported us in the Revolutionary War, and it was Bonaparte who sold most of middle America to Thomas Jefferson.
So you can thank Napoleon for all that high-glucose corn syrup and Idaho potatoes. And don't forget to thank France for the Statue of Liberty either. Yeah, they gave that to us as a symbol of friendship, before you were born.
 |
| 6205 feet. Le Mont Ventoux. |
I decided a couple of days ago that I would ride Mont Ventoux. It's not a little mountain, in fact, it is called the "Giant of Provence" and it's hard to miss. Because the top was stripped of it's trees to build ships in the olden days, and because of the high winds at the top, reforestation is impossible. So it remains bare and bald and very steep and very scary.
One of it's most fearsome tactics is revealing its peak to you with still six kilometers to go, and that also when it get super steep and there are no more trees to shield you from the wind.
I stayed up too late talking to a friend online, and maybe had too many beers, but I certainly did not have the right rear cassette for the climb, and I admittedly had to stop several times. My ass still hurts. I slept most of today.
And why did I also decide to park 20 miles from the beginning of the climb? Because that would be like skipping right to dessert. I wanted to amuse my mouth a little beforehand.
Here's the video. I didn't film the descent for a couple of reasons (1) my mount for the camera broke weeks ago (2) it was just like any other descent you can find online. The ascent was the personal part, that was the struggle, and so that seemed like the right content to share.
Wow, that was a long post.
