Sometimes I am perfectly happy acting like a tourist, out with my big old map and geriatric footwear, embarrassing all and sundry with my lack of knowledge about how to act in public. But once in a while, I’m tired of my day-to-day life in Thailand. Sometimes, I want to spread my wings and travel a bit. That’s when I go abroad — this year, to France. Our trip, via @SpecialKRB’s fantastic photos:
We stayed in the “Perigord Noir”, so named because of the abundance of prehistoric dwellings in the area and known for its delicious walnuts, lamb, ducks, geese — and, of course, this:
Staying in a house allowed us to delude ourselves into thinking we could act just like the locals — zipping to and fro in tiny little cars, wearing berets and making fun of other people just like us (for the record, they really do wear striped shirts!). So we did just that, even after getting back to Paris, using the ample time at our disposal to do Frenchie French things like:
Try out the lovely French squatters (for the record, far more challenging than the Thai ones. The footrests are lower in level than the surrounding basin, ensuring that you will most certainly splash your own feet — lovely.
Dislocate your shoulder and visit the hospital (sorry, no photos. FYI, the hospital trip: 23 euros. Excruciating pain: priceless.).