A light hearted take on Bordeaux for a greasy November Saturday afternoon.
1) Gare St Jean
There are various explanations for this sign. None of which are very convincing. Any ideas, please leave a comment.
- Don’t walk on a triangle if the angles don’t add up to 180.
- Don’t use a springboard inside in a tent when there’s an air raid on.
- Beware! Pedestrians are liable to be catapulted into space at any time.
- You are not allowed to be lifted up by a drawbridge when the siren goes off (courtesy Stan Mellema).
- Warning! This road will turn into a steep hill when the siren sounds.
Continue reading “183 – Bizarre Signs of Bordeaux: Part 1”
I love to run because it makes me feel better. Keeps the wolf from the door as it were. Wolves in the form of Demons that tell me I’ve ballsed up my life and should change course immediately. Get a job in an office. Get my own parking space. Buy a 3D-TV. You might be familiar with them? (Demons not 3D-TVs.) Continue reading “182 – Running in Bordeaux”
I woke up this morning on a bench in the Jardin Public looking into the eyes of Nicholas Sarkozy. I’ll explain.
Yesterday afternoon I went to the park to read my book – A Hundred Easy Steps to a Better Memory – only to realise a minute after sitting down on my favourite bench near the duck pond that I’d left it on the sitting room table. Continue reading “181 – La Boite à Lire”
If you’re caught short sightseeing in Bordeaux, the shopping centre at Mériadeck is the place to go. Clean, warm, friendly toilets with an attendant on hand to pass you lavender scented towels as you leave.
Redeveloped in the mid-sixties, Mériadeck is the quartier d’affaires (business district) of Bordeaux. A world away from the neoclassical-baroque-Roman architecture of the city, but still strangely pleasant. Continue reading “180 – Mériadeck”
I’m about to destroy the myth about French coffee. But before I do, I’d like to make a statement.
‘I love France. They do things better here than in a lot of countries, including my own. From campsites, to employment laws, to healthcare, to public transport, to food, to wine, to films, to beaches, to mountains. It’s a joy to live here and if I was French, I’d be proud of my country.’
Except for one thing. Continue reading “179 – French Coffee”
The Palais Gallien Amphitheatre half a stride away from the Jardin Public is one of the oldest looking things I’ve ever seen. A two thousand year old crumbling ruin built from what looks like broken biscuits stuck together with chewing gum, it’s no wonder the Bordelais call it le vestige – the relic. Continue reading “178 – The Palais Gallien Amphitheatre”