The Seriousness of Lunch

June 10th, 2013

I had a companion in France, a co-pilot of sorts. We met in the rental car parking lot and parted ways three weeks later at the Marseilles airport. His name was Jean Claude. He was high strung and easily agitated–a drama queen, if truth be told. We drove though Provence together, following a trial of medieval castles and crystal clear rivers.

Jean Claude loved the open road, but parking lots made him nervous. He would screech if I came too close to another car, and was always on my back when I maneuvered into a tight spot. Watch the front bumper! No, the side door! He loved telling me what to do. I can’t say I liked it, but I learned to appreciate it. The one time I chose to ignore his rants I hit the wall of a building–no damage done.


Nyons with its Roman Bridge

Nyons with its Roman Bridge

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