Holidaying with the French

I’m taking great comfort in seeing that not all French are the pristine, classy, well turned out people that the Parisians portray themselves to be. In a self catering resort in the south of France, there are all walks of French life, and in this type of place you don’t find as much chic and sophistication as you would in Paris. They are on holiday, after all, with the first rule being to bare as much flesh as possible. This is understandable when living in what constitutes basically a large microwave oven. I have no idea which parts of France these French people are from, but there is evidence that class distinction also exists in this country, we all have our versions of chav, thank goodness.

There are still, however, some things that remain exclusively French across the spectrum of classes. Their vanity for example. Only here would you see grandmothers shouting at their grandchildren to ‘jouer!’ at the poolside, swatting them away like flies, whilst they proceed to sunbathe topless, unashamed of the scars on their breasts from implants done quite some time ago. When they’re completely grey and saggy there has to be a point where those things just don’t matter, but not for the French. It matters very much for as long as they are on ‘display’.

Interaction with children on holiday seems the same countrywide. Very little basically, with the odd slap for minor misdemeanours, I even heard one mother call her little girl ‘Vache!’ by the pool whilst giving her a smack . They are far too busy browning their boobs and smoking fags in the sun to play with their kids or swim in the pool, no wonder all the little Frenchies stamp on our sandcastles, they’re pissed off their parents didn’t help them make any!

Saving grace – the French are late risers therefore there is no rush to reserve your sunbed on the beach or by the pool (as with the Germans). Just get there before lunch and leave before tea when the hordes of French teenagers arrive, most with their prepubescent breasts on display.

Gendarmerie Dreams

The mysterious Gendarmerie. Nobody seems to know exactly what they do. Apart from being military police and apparent security guards outside important buildings, their job seems so secretive, which is perhaps where the attraction lies. As they are stationed near my son’s school outside Invalides I walk by them often. As do most French men, they make their attraction noticeable and attempt to get my attention, jigging from foot to foot in that boy gang type way, pointing me out not so discreetly, chuckling to each other. Although slightly imposing in a group, they always smile, sometimes even with a wink and flirty ‘bonjour madame’.

A uniform always has an effect on me. Gendarmes look very official and quite sexy in their tight navy blue suits, black belts and boots, wearing the traditional kepis on their heads. Standing outside their windowless blue vans, they can seem intimidating.

As I walk by I come over all girly, and can hardly suppress a giggle as I am victim to their obvious ogling. I want the confidence to wink back and say ‘bonjour monsieur’ in my sexiest French accent, but end up looking down and walking quicker….mother of two children, married, nice catholic girl, shouldn’t flirt…..all racing through my head. I know they’re watching me from behind, making comments on the size of my derriere presumably, debating on size and form. Not only do I wish for a smaller butt at this moment, I also wish I could wiggle it like the French girls do, a small but controlled jerky thrust with their pert buttocks jiggling on top of high heels. Somehow, I think they’d settle for mine anyway.

What if I let them have their way with me, I wonder as I walk on. What if I just walked onto their big blue bus and said ‘Bienvenue messieurs, je suis a vous (welcome gentlemen, I am yours). What if I took one of them by the hand and had my way with him. ‘What if’s’, like ‘I want’s’, never gets……

What is this city doing to me??? Time to change temptation focus.

Saving Grace - The summer sales are starting, watch out shops…je viens!!