It’s a spatial thing

I don’t like driving at the best of times, but here, I just have to pull up my Bridget Jones undies and try and be a grown up. The constant chant – me in the middle – does help with getting the right-side thingy through my head. Sort of OK with that, (not really), BUT – it is this spatial thing on the road that my brain just does not compute.

Last time I drove in Europe, I reckon I hit every curb. I have been known to drive down the wrong way of one-way streets, have driven into restaurants with diners happily eating at lovely check table clothed tables (when I thought it was a road), panicked at roundabouts, and driven like the grandma that I am. BUT, what is the issue with my brain that just can’t figure out where the damn car is sitting on the road? Here there are no curbs, and some of the driving I have been doing, no guard rail just a sheer drop. If I can see a white line in the middle, maybe I am somewhat better, BUT – here an absence of white lines on many roads. OMG – I have to force myself not to close my eyes when trucks thunder past on narrow rural roads. Why do I think that holding my breath will help?  I reckon I have almost worn out the Saint blessings. It is sort of like playing online Mahjong (that I am addicted to) where I have to watch an unexciting video to get more tiles. Here, I have to keep popping into the church next door and hoping that this will refill my Saint blessings.

I have settled into my lovely maison, where I have a whole village to myself. There is literally no-one here and I have walked so many kms where I rarely see anyone. The main street is completely empty, and I reckon I have seen no more than five cars driving. I assume it will change as Easter approaches. It is fabulous staying in a house, with 20-30cm wide floorboards, steps that have survived thousands of stomping feet, armoires that are touching the massive beams, and shutters that completely close out the world. At the same time, it is fabulous having a brilliant stove, fast wifi, great heating, and a brand new TV. I am loving the shutters as I don’t think I have slept so well in ages. I am also loving no clock needed. The church bells tell me to wake up, eat lunch, and have dinner.

One of my favourite things to do when I travel is to wander around supermarkets. I pulled into the massive Carrefour in Toulouse and was completely overwhelmed by the sheer size. Le boucher, le poissonnerie, and marchand de fromages with their wielding knives was beyond entertaining. Talking about my appalling French – made the crappiest muffins that almost poisioned me as I didn’t buy levure chimique like I was supposed to, but instead piled in the bicard soda – note to self – use Google Translate and taste before spooning in. Today’s French was very funny. I far prefer the little Carrefour in Montcuq as the staff are lovely and I don’t have a panic attack with the overwhelming size. After the baking powder disaster decided I would make lemon tart. Wandered down the hill with my basket. The lovely young woman at the checkout came in from her cigarette break to serve me and was beyond pleasant. Her English was about the same as my French. I was trying to explain to her could I please have coins as I needed them for the loo when I was out driving. Most places take cards for everything except the loo. I stupidly left my bag of euro coins at home. The poor woman in the Carrefour thought I needed the loo and was so helpful in wanting to escort me. We eventually worked out (with my appalling French and mime) that I needed change for my wad of euro. She laughed so much when I told her I was old and loos were exceptionally important. Well, I hope that is what I said – hmmmm – guess she could have been laughing at my appalling French or maybe I said something completely rude. No idea – but feel like I have made a friend.