Page 29 - Jan2023
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I?m not sure what a reverie is, but I think I was chicken, and dressed with a sauce that could only
having one. As the miles rolled by, the countryside have been produced by sorcery.
became even more sparsely settled, and the road
I think I was having another one of those
climbed gently into wooded hills. Villages were
reverie things. Refreshed, I pulled back onto the
now far between. I suddenly realized that I was
main road and continued on my way. After some
hungry, so I peeled off of the main road to a village
miles (sorry, kilometers) the rolling hills became
that seemed a little larger than the others I had
higher and steeper. More like low mountains.
passed. Nothing resembling a restaurant was
Coming over the top of one, and swooping down
apparent.
the particularly long back side, a faint glow
Parking in the little square by the church (it around the instrument cluster began to show
seemed that every village had a medieval stone itself.
church, with a landmark spire, marking the center
At first it was kind of pinkish, but it got redder
of town), I was delighted to see a tourist office.
and brighter as I descended. Oh-oh. Having
And it was open!
driven a string of raggedy old junkers over the
Unfortunately for me, the delightful girl in the years, I started having an unpleasant feeling of
tourist office spoke only French, and my French is deja vu. (Hey - I know six French words!) Could
limited to just four collections of words - bon jour, this thing be overheating?
merci, vin rouge, and Coupe de Ville. However,
Just to be safe, I figured I better keep my speed
after enthusiastic ?bon jours? by tilting our heads
,
up over the next hills, and then slip it out of gear
and gesturing, we effected a rustic
to coast down the other side, thus allowing the
communication.
engine to cool off a bit from the extra air flow.
t
I came to understand that there was no actual This seemed like a good idea, but it wasn?
restaurant in the village, just a sandwich truck of working - in fact the whole dash was now glowing
some sort. By now I was starving, so giving her my as red as a furnace, and I was getting concerned
,
cheeriest ?merci!? I strode off to find the food truck to a point near panic.
Not far away, set sideways by a small parking The grades were now definitely mountains, and
lot, was a tiny wooden trailer set on blocks, with an I made sure to never touch the brakes on the
an awning and an open window. For another ?bon lengthy descents, trying keep the airflow up.
jour? and five Euros, the smiling chef de cuisine Coasting downhill at speeds approaching 150 kph,
,
produced a baguette sandwich. As a bonus, I I was desperately hoping get to the next town of
learned a fifth French word: voila! size before this machine stranded me. In a
remote part of a foreign country no less.
There being nowhere to sit, I walked back to
the car to eat. Unwrapping my sandwich, I took Rouge! Rouge! Rouge!
my first bite. Oh my goodness, what is going on
To my good fortune, a town appeared appeared
here? I took another bite, and then another.
on the horizon a few minutes later, whence I sped
Good thing I was sitting down, because I nearly
as rapidly as possible, hoping to get there before
fainted as the rush of sandwich nirvana flooded
the engine blew.I spied a small brick building
over me.
plastered with signs for Michelin, NGK, and
How was is possible that this emergency ration, Peugeot, so I pulled into the tiny parking lot, and
purchased in this remote place, could be so jumped out. Waving my arms, and saying?rouge
i
exquisite? The freshly baked bread had a perfect rouge? and ?s?l vous plait? (am I up to seven words
crunchy crust, was soft and chewy on the inside, now? or is it eight?) a slender young frenchman in
and enfolded crisp, faintly bitter baby greens, coveralls stepped out of the shop. Continued on page
balanced by savory slices of aromatic roast 30
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