Continuing the France details
 

I added some pictures to yesterday's entry.

so continuing...
Monday, March 13.

    I slept till Rodzilla got back from class.  I rolled outta bed and got in the shower.  If there was one thing I hated about France, it was the showers I took while there. First of all, it's all hard water.  Nothing foams in hard water. That's very annoying.  And the shower thingy isn't attached to the wall. It's one of those ones that you have to hold.  It was the same in Paris.  And there was no shower curtain.  There was a little raised part, so I don't know if you were supposed to sit down or what. It was very confusing.  So I made a big fucking swampy mess in there.  I heard about it later.
    So Rodzilla get back, and we hit Bordeaux.  I figured since i was in France I needed to eat at least one crepe. France and shit, you know.  So naturally we went to the creperie.  I was feeling not so hot, and the greasy thing made me a little sick. So that was disappointing.
    So we headed over to the Haagen Dazs.  I think I spelled that wrong.  Anyhow, in france it's like a cafe. It's not like a baskin-robbins or something. You sit and there's menus and whatnot.  Something interesting to me about the cafes is that there's a different price scale depending where you sit.  The farther out from the bar you go, the more you pay. So outside is the most expensive. I suppose it has something to do with the tip being figured into the bill.  So that was a pleasant time. It was a bright, sunny day in southwest France.
    Rodzilla and her roommate went to a wine tasting class, and afterward I met them at a fromagerie, which is a cheese restaurant, or store.  Anyhow, it was one of the best meals I've ever eaten.  A nice roasted duck, some tasty foie gras, which consisted of half-cooked duck livers, and the all the good french cheese I could eat. I like cheese.  They had over 100 cheeses in their little cheese cellar, and you just go down and cut out as much cheese as you want. basically, I was quite surprised not to see St. Peter at the door.
    After dinner, out friendly french waiter offered us some nice cognac. I'm only saying it was nice because that's what he said.  I'd never had the stuff. I didn't really care for it. I know you're supposed to drink it slowly, but I couldn't do it. He mocked me for drinking it like vodka. The fuck.

Well, I'm tired. This is taking too long. But dammit, I wanna finish this France trip account and move on. Five more days to go.
 
 

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