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Observations on a New Life in Spain

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Vive la France!

15 July, 2008 (09:04) | Living in Europe | By: admin

from my first day’s impressions:

I am here in Bordeaux but on the go. Will try to catch up later. It is morning here and we’re off to go be tourists.

My French is a bit rusty but its doing the job. We will spend the next 2 days being tourists, going to beaches and little villages, wine tasting, the lot… then on Friday the 3 day party begins for Denise, who turns 50. They are expecting about 20 people on Friday, 55 on Saturday and about 60 on Sunday, the day of the big feast of literally a whole lamb (mouton) stuffed with cous cous will be served.

Day one in Bordeaux we go to the beach and 2 surprisingly appropriate French incidents occur:

We find ourselves walking down the beach near the Pyla Dune. Remember, this trip is very unusual because I have my best friend, Nicole (the blonde beauty I befriended in NZ but who lives in Barcelona now) and her dog Moki, who is our dog Haka’s best friend from when they were puppies together in Wellington.


I have taken many road trips with Nicole and Moki in NZ. I have take many road trips with Mark and our dog/dogs in different countries, but I have never been on a road trip with my husband and my best friend. Is interesting and could go either way, as they are both Alpha Dogs with strong convictions of what they do and do not want to do. As it were, they get along great, so for me it is easy because I simply sit back and let them make most of the decisions. We all laugh a lot.

Once on the beach Nicole and the dogs run off frolicking to the shoreline. The dogs chase each other in play while Nicole splashes in the waves. They can’t believe their luck to find themselves on a beach. Suddenly a crazy hysterical British mother comes flying at them, arms akimbo speaking French and tries to chase them off the beach, but right on cue a very handsome and very naked man comes to the rescue, passionately takes up our defence, informs the lady that dogs are legal along the water tideline but not up on the dry sandy beach part. Remember, all this is in French. We leave the handsome young man defending us and head down the beach to a quiet spot. Mark catches up with us, plops our beach gear down. Our little attractive posse hangs out among “les naturalistes” and enjoys the rest of the afternoon.

At one point Nicole falls asleep and Mark plays with Haka while Moki digs trenches. I notice an attractive older woman (older meaning about my age) wearing a turquoise hat and a string of beads and shells around her midrff, but nothing else frolicking in the waves. At one point she comes up to me, damp hat in hand and asks if I can watch it for her. I am suddenly eye level with her beaded tummy, her naked and shaved crotch at eye level.

“Bien sur” I reply and take her hat to protect. The tide rises so we moved our stuff further and further back, all the while la femme is swimming and frolicking with abandoned glee. Eventually she comes to retrieve her cap, which I have loyally kept dry.
“Merci” she says as she takes the hat back. “Tu etes tres jolie!” (you are very beautful). She has twinkly blue eyes, short hair. “Toi aussie!” I say. (“you too”)
She comes up to me as if to kiss me on both cheeks, but instead she gives me a light, mischievous kiss on the lips and skips off.

Mark is gobmmacked. He says, “Wow, my wife was just kissed by a naked French woman!” and laughs.
Nicole says, “She was cute!”

Vive la France!