Bonjour Madame

There is a major problem in France.  That of the doggie do-do.   The French word for dog is le chien, pronounced she-en.  The ch’s in the french language are pronounced as the “sh” sound.   My word for do-do is chit, pronounced she-it.  Or… Le Chien Chit! (pronunciation: Le She-en Shit!)  What is it with the French people and their dogs???  Has no one heard of cleaning up after your dog?  The answer is no.  All over the sidewalks and cobblestone streets, in front of all of these wonderful, sweet, little restaurants and shops that I’ve been telling you about is smeared shit!  All over the place!  I don’t get it!  I have yet to see ONE person, NOT ONE, clean up after their dog.  And there are hundreds of dogs.

Dogs have a much pampered life in France.  In my next life, if I have to be an animal, I’m going to choose to be a French dog.  They get to go everywhere with their owners.  In the shops (even the expensive make-up and perfume shops), restaurants, grocery stores, bakeries.  Everywhere.  And it’s even popular to push them in strollers!  Cesar Millan, the dog whisperer, would be very unhappy with that.  I saw one of his programs where the two male owners were in quite a fuss over the aggressive behavior of their miniature Schnauzer.  My guess is that the damn dog knew what a pain-in-the-ass breed it was and was having its own anxiety attacks over coming to terms with that.  But Cesar told the two guys to STOP making Twinkle-toes sit in a stroller, peaking out over the edge during “walks”.  They were only walking themselves that way.  The dog needed to get out and get exercise and expend some of its energy.

In France, the dogs that aren’t in strollers apparently don’t even have to have a leash.  Imagine that!  You are running errands around town with your dog, going in and out of all your favorite stores, Starbucks, Nordstroms, Wal-mart, and your dog is not even on a leash!  And all of your friends’ dogs aren’t on leashes!  It seems like doggie mayhem!  But not here.  The dogs have learned to behave like their owners.  Very quiet and mildly subdued in their own little space.  Except sometimes, albeit infrequently, those shopkeepers do snap.

If the dog happens to meander outside, and god forbid, down the sidewalk, the owner just leans out the door and gently calls the dog’s name and says something meaning “come back here, honey” and voila!  The dog comes tip-toeing back.  And then sits by the owner until the owner is finished discussing whatever with the shopkeeper.  Wouldn’t that be crazy if KIDS were actually that well-behaved!

But… what are we going to do with Le Chien Chit?  The French actually have a slang word for shit-  chier! Amazingly similar to chien. Maybe because  when they think of the word chien- they automacially think of all the chier! Asking each person to carry along a plastic bag for picking up after their dog seems unreasonable.  The French seem to be pretty stingy with their plastic bags.  At the stores, when checking out, you need to BUY one!  It has taken a number of times for me to get the hang of this.  The salesperson leaves your purchases at the end of the check-out counter, waiting for you to stuff them away in your belongings.  They always look surprised and I think maybe mildly irritated when I ask to buy a bag after the fact.  You see, according to them, after they take my money and give me change the transaction is over.  Finis!  And for me to just be staring at my purchases as the next person’s items get pushed into mine and then my asking about “acheter-ing (buy-ing) a sac (bag) is exactly the type of thing to push them over the edge and make them a little snappy.

Since a plastic bag has to be purchased with each store transaction, the throw-away plastic bag idea for each doggie bowel movement may not be a popular concept.  But guess what!  Today, in the tourism office, another one of my favorite hang-outs, I saw something I’ve yet to see!  Definitely not yet in use.  A Pince-a-Crotte!  Which is translated to mean Pinch-the-Droppings!  Quiet the concept!  It consists of a piece of ready-to-bend cardboard inside a little brown bag that the dog owner would use to “pinch” up the dropping”!

Or the bomb.  I guess if you have a big dog, you would need to carry two.   And then the American who’s writing this wouldn’t step in their chien’s chit!  Fabuous!

On the back of the bag it says in seven languages “I love my dog, I take care of the environment with Pince-a-Crotte”.  If you’re concerned about using too many plastic doggie dippers back in the states, you can contact these people at pac@compofac.fr or on their website at www.compofac.fr.   Man, I  hope their invention catches on in France!

(Footnote- all of the pictures in this blog were taken in Antibes today.)

 Why is it so hard to find Wi-Fi?  Or as the French say, wee-fee?  Maybe because old town Antibes has no Starbucks or McDonald’s.   Marc, the rental agency owner told me that he thought a restaurant, Le Jardin had it.  I went by there last night- a cute little place with a couple tables under nice lighting situated against the sidewalk.  I asked the lady, “Do you have internet?”  She looked at me like I had just belched.  I tried again, a different way, this time in French of all things.  “Avez-vous wee-fee?”  “Non, non” she said, shaking her head like she could poof me away.  I wasn’t about to give up.  Marc told me I could get service at “Le Jardin” and that was where I was.  Maybe she thought I was asking if this was an internet café.  “Avez-vous internet service? I have my own computer” I said as I was fishing in my huge purse for my new netbook.  “NON, non.” She said, acting like I was a fly she wanted to swoosh out of her sight.  “Merci!” I said as friendly as possible.  Hmmm…. Why would he say they had it and she act like it was impossible?

I finally found what appears to be the only place in all of old Antibes that offers free Wi-Fi to customers, The Blue Lady Pub.  It’s a restaurant/bar that stops serving food and goes to all drinks after 3pm.  Most people were drinking beer- definitely not the cute, little French restaurant I was hoping to find.  The bartender/owner gave me the pass code, but it wasn’t a place where they seemed to promote their internet service availability.  At least I was able to finally get on-line… but I felt like the underbelly of the street people.    

Today I walked around and asked many, many store owners if they had Wi-Fi.  No one did.  And they acted as if it was a ridiculous question.  All I wanted was to sit in a characteristic French shop and have coffee and pastries and use my computer.  I was starving- I hadn’t eaten anything all day and it was already 3:30 pm.  My body was still on the eastern standard time of 9:30 am.  I passed by Le Jardin and thought I’d give them another chance.  Perhaps the person I spoke to yesterday had been an employee and wasn’t sure, and just answered no since I was speaking a foreign language.   I wasn’t sure if the woman today was the same person I had talked to yesterday- I’d asked the question of so many shop owners.  Apparently it was, and she obviously remembered me.  No wonder.  I think I’m the only person trying to find free Wi-Fi.  She looked at me like I was nuts and shook her head.   Maybe I’ll play with her and go back tomorrow and ask the same thing.

After an hour or so of no luck I figured I would just go back to the The Blue Lady and use their service again.  I was feeling fairly comfortable with my familiarity of the town and walked to the corner where I remembered the bar.  It was about a mile from my apartment, but a nice walk, through the tiny streets of the old town, lined with cute shops and little restaurants.  It wasn’t there.   I walked around to several corners in the area and couldn’t find it.  I walked and walked and walked.  It was nowhere.  I asked several people if they knew where Le Femme Bleu restaurant was and no one knew.  It was a big, busy place.  How could they not know?  I started saying “Le Femme Blue, The Blue Lady Restaurant” thinking maybe it was referred to by its English name.  No luck.  I kept walking and walking.  I must’ve walked by Le Jardin five times.  Not on purpose- I just kept ending up walking by the same places.  I think I made the Le Jardin owner nervous.  She probably thought I was stalking the place.  It took over an hour to find The Blue Lady.  Two full hours on the second day of being in Antibes to find free Wi-Fi. 

I know I sound confused, but it is confusing.  The streets are so small and wind around.  And the buildings are so high on each side.  It’s like walking in a maze.  I have a little map (that I have to put on my glasses every time I look at it which is very often) but even with that it’s hard to follow where I am and where I’ve been.  I tried to use the water as a navigation point, but the water surrounds the point of where Old Town is situated so that caused even more confusion. 

Since I had woken up very late (not by my EST body clock time), unpacked, showered and left the apartment at 3:30 it was almost 6 pm when I sat down with my computer to have something to eat.  It still felt like breakfast time to me, and the Blue Lady had stopped serving food three hours ago.  My desire to drink coffee and eat French pastries at a little sidewalk café had been reduced to having a coke in an English pub.  What an odd first full day.

I wanted this trip to be a time for thinking.  And writing.  Deep things.  So far my effort has revolved around getting myself organized in the new country.  And finding the internet.  Hopefully I will get myself settled, get my feet underneath me.  And sit in the French café, alongside the sea, eating my pastries and drinking coffee and typing my story.