Vive la difference!
by Graham Smith

Page 2 of 3

You stick your nose out, remember to stay on the right and then you glance in the mirror. There are seventeen French people in assorted vehicles examining the small letters across the bottom of your numberplate.

All have had their engines tuned by the local kamikaze garage, all are late for something and all agree…you are going far too slowly. The fact that there is room for only one car width is immaterial, they are going to pass.

This is usually heralded by a flash of lights, a honk of the horn, and, if you are lucky, a reverse Churchillian salute just to remind you that you are British.

They are bonkers. A blind bend is no deterrent. In fact it is an encouragement to frighten you rigid by pulling out and then they curse the effrontery of anyone who dares to be coming the other way while they are overtaking. As they pass they often shrug their shoulders with both hands off the wheel. Bellowed protests and offers to introduce their parents to each other have no effect.

It is the law in France that if you have an accident you place a red warning triangle so many metres behind the vehicle. This allows oncoming traffic to know you are in trouble and gives them time to rev up, swerve and completely avoid you even if you are in need of a paramedic and a blood transfusion.

I came across a road blocked by a caravan which quite simply could not turn a sharp corner out of a campsite. I stopped but the deranged young madamoiselle behind me overtook me and glared ominously at the stranded driver who blocked her way. I was about to get out of the car and offer her a donor card for a brain transplant when she roared off at high speed through a six-inch gap with a three-foot wide car.

A village café offered an endless source of amusement as we watched traffic weave its way around a blind corner wide enough for only one vehicle.

Pedestrians do not move. It is seen as a sign of defeat to step aside for oncoming vehicles and the local dogs and cats often parade across the street as slowly as possible, pausing to preen themselves or perform some small item of toilet. The locals are just the same although they do stop short of cocking their legs against lampposts.

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