Differences Between England and France

After visiting two major cities in relatively quick succession, it's hard not to start making rapid comparisons between the two. I've had high hopes of writing a long, eloquent post about all of the similarities and differences between London and Paris and what they might mean. However, time (and interest) not permitting, I'll settle for leaving you with some observations about the difference in attitude between the French and the English. Interestingly, the attitudes of each people plays out both positively and negatively; just depends on what you're experiencing at the moment. Stereotypically, the English are often seen as rigid and uptight, while the French are more relaxed and easy-going. You can see this with the security at the museums. At the National Gallery in London, Anna took a sip of water a bit too near one of the paintings and an English guard was immediately at her elbow, politely informing her that she'd have to stand in the middle of the room to finish her water. This is understandable, given the nature of the valuable works of art found in the gallery. But in Paris, security at the Louvre is practically non-existent. We walked into the museum with no security check for our bags (more security at the churches in Paris than at the Louvre), and headed off with hordes of visitors searching for the Mona Lisa. People were taking flash photography everywhere, there were no guard rails or roped-off areas in front of the paintings, and the Mona Lisa was swarmed by tourists, with barely a security guard to be found. It's nice that the French are so trusting, but I was surprised at how relaxed they were with such an amazing collection of art. The Mona Lisa was apparently stolen once by an angry Italian man back in the early 1900's who wanted his country's treasure returned to its rightful place, but I guess the French feel their security is good enough if there's been only one theft in all this time. . .

The flip side of this attitude is played out in safety considerations, and is most near and dear to my heart right now, as a beginning-to-be-weary traveler. Viewed from this angle, you would easily say that the English are very considerate and concerned for the safety of others, while the French might just as well care less. For example, the frustrating situation of having to cross the street 15 times to reach the other side is evidently not just an English oddity (as discussed in a previous post); we've encountered the same thing in Paris. But in London, there are guard rails all along the way, presumably to guide you to safety; while in Paris, these guard rails don't exist anywhere. The clear message from the French is that you are free to cross wherever you like. If you decide to cross where you're not supposed to and accidentally get yourself killed while doing it, it's your own fault and they won't do anything to prevent it. Nice. Another example of this difference in attitude can be seen in the reminders given on public transportation. The English are obsessed with reminders in all public places like subways and train stations to "mind the gap." This basically means "watch your step and don't fall into the tiny space between the subway car and the walkway." I'm not sure that the danger involved in getting onto subways or trains warrants so many reminders (automated voices, painted signs on the ground, even T-shirts bearing the phrase), but it is touching that the English really want to make sure you don't get hurt while traveling in their city. The French, on the other hand, are only concerned that you know where the line ends. "Terminus" is a phrase heard over and over again on buses and subways, and it basically means "the line ends when we say it does, and you'll have to get off whether it's your stop or not." While we were on a bus in Paris, the driver stopped en route to the Eiffel Tower, with no prior warning. All we heard was "terminus," and then everyone on the bus proceeded to file off to wait for the next one. Still don't know what that's all about. . .My last example (which is driving this whole post) was illustrated most clearly just yesterday. Riding the trains in England was a much different experience than it's been in France. Whenever there was a change or a delay on the trains in England, there would be profuse apologies and clear explanations for the delays ("We are very sorry this train is being delayed. This is due to a road vehicle striking a bridge."). The French evidently don't think this kind of thing is necessary. We arrived at the train station in Tours late Sunday night, trying to take an overnight train to Lourdes. When we got there, hundreds of people were in the station (odd for 10:00pm), all peering up at the monitors listing the train schedules. We discovered that all of the trains had been delayed for hours, but no one seemed to know why. We got in line at the information booth to see if our train was affected, but five minutes later, the booth closed. Everyone was turned away without explanation, left to fend for themselves. Not a great start for a night train. Turns out that our train was delayed too (found out five minutes before it was supposed to arrive that it wasn't coming for another hour), and instead of being a direct overnight train like our ticket said, we had to switch trains in Bordeaux. Only no one told us this when we got there (figured it out the hard way), and the only consolation was free croissants and cold drinks at 3:30 in the morning. Not so consoling standing on a dark platform in sub-zero weather (okay maybe not that cold, but when you're extremely tired and irritable. . .). We did finally make it to Lourdes, but when we left later that day, we ran into similar problems. Made it onto our first train just fine, but when we tried to catch our connecting train, it turned out that we had to get on a different train altogether and go to another city to catch our supposedly direct train to Carcassonne. No one bothers to mention these things - even the computerized schedule monitors don't always reflect the changes; I guess everyone here in France just knows that you need to confirm before getting on any train.

Well, all I can say is that up to this point, we haven't had any real problems to speak of, so we can't complain too much. I've heard that transportation in Italy can often be much worse, so maybe we're being well-prepared for what's to come later. At any rate, we're seeing some beautiful countryside and numerous picturesque little villages that rival what we saw in the Cotswolds and the Lake District. Colmar and Riquewihr are my favorite little picturesque towns in France so far. I love picturesque places (I know, hard to tell from this blog) and the kind you see in Europe seems so different from anything you see in the U.S. Places like Solvang come close, but there is still something so different in Europe. Amboise is a small town in the heart of French wine country, and I had the best wine I've ever tasted there. We took some walks there in really cold, brisk weather (think we're in for extremely cold weather the rest of our trip) and visited the house that Leonardo Da Vinci lived in for the last three years of his life. If I were the creative genius type, I could see living my last days on this lovely little estate situated in a beautiful valley, painting and inventing to my heart's content. All Leonardo had to do for payment was talk to his friend, King Francois I, every day for a little while. Hmmm. . .We're in Carcossonne right now, an interesting old medieval city located within the walls of an old castle fortress. Things are going well, despite how it sounds from my rant on French transportation. The people here are actually very lovely, and the food is tremendously good. Can't beat that combination. . .