Southern France, a set on Flickr.
It’s like cats and dogs. They can get along just fine, and many of us have both, but when they meet “out there,” there’s often trouble.
Just the other morning while I was journaling outside I heard a honk, and looked up. On the bridge in front of me I could see an early morning cyclist who was now stopped in the middle, and he was trying to communicate something to the driver behind him who had honked. Although I am not French, I thought his communication was quite clear. He was using some universal signs and gestures, and from where I was his muffled yells might as well have been English. I also noticed he was using another effective tactic–stopping in the middle of the lane to force impatient drivers to wait. He stood there staring down the driver for about 35 seconds, while a line of cars stopped behind him on the bridge. Then, when he had had enough, he got back on and kept biking.
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Our first night of camping we met a man walking two dogs who said to watch out for wild pigs. We took his warning seriously, but with a grain of salt. We saw no pigs.
Several other people gave us similar warnings, and Claudia back at “base camp” (Worms, Germany) told us how she was once chased on a horse all the way back to town by a protective mother boar.
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