Wednesday, May 11, 2011

Taking the Waters of Aix en Provence, La Quatrième (et la dernière!) Partie

...Just as the squeeze of transitional challenges eased and my little French life was looking up, I stepped in one of Aix’s dirty little secrets as I dashed through town one morning. I felt the squish of a still-warm pile as it filled the tiny crevices in the soles of my shoes like mason’s mortar.  In a town of so much water, puddles are never far away.  A few skillful dunks and scrapes had me laughing at this dream into which I had chosen to leap.

Later that day, as I walked through town, eyes on the toes, a “Merci, Madame,” caught my ear, offered by a grateful passerby to a woman of a certain age. I looked up just in time to see him tip his hat to her.

As she plucked her dog’s business up with a plastic sac and tossed it in the trash, her too-polite reply,  “Mais c’est normale, monsieur,” cinched the exchange between comrades who knew they shared a hopeless cause. 

I had understood each and every word and nuance.

Perhaps I just needed to put one foot in front of the other.    And watch my step.



Deborah said...

Love the description of it going into your shoe "like mason's mortar"!

Anonymous said...

Sorta like that squishy feeling one feels when water mixed with mud seeps through your soles. LOL


donna said...

remembering those little "road hazards".....thanks for the 4 days of splashing, gurgling, flowing fountains

la Brocanteuse said...

he he funny! thank goodness for the welcome fountains.xo Colette~afrique du Sud

la fourchette said...

Deborah, thanks! Just callin' 'em like I see 'em.

Kris, yeah...*that's* it...except you definitely do not want this seeping through your shoes.

donna, je t'en prie, ma belle. I've now taken those road hazards in to speak.

Colette, water, water lucky am I?!


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