What's the difference?

Gawd I love the TGV. One of the world's fastest trains, I am magically transported from one end of the country to another in approximately 3 hours. After leaving Gare Saint Charles in Marseilles, a stop is made in Aix-en-Provence, then Avignon, then takes off like a speeding bullet at 280 kilometers an hour (that's about 175 mph for us Americans) until its destination of Gare de Lyon in Paris. My seated neighbors bring books, magazines, iPads, Smartphones and laptops to occupy the time, or of course the ever popular closing of the eyes for an attempted cat-nap for the journey. One who has never been a fan, or really capable for that matter of sleeping on public transportation, I prefer to keep my eyes open and enjoy the beauty of the country I now live in. 
.....Or work on my blog.

I can feel the momentem increasing just after we cross the bridge high over the Rhone just departing from Avingon. After the crossing the river we pass through numerous fields leaving Provence. At this time in July the sunflower fields are in bloom, boasting large patches of vibrant yellow over the country side. High on the hills I see medieval castles and lookout towers, stone farm houses in their shadows. We pass through small villages with their quintessential churches in the center, surrounded by stone homes with terra cotta rooftops, local wine vineyards as their backyard. I'm not a religious person, but for some reason seeing these small towns with their ancient houses of worship brings a smile to my face. How old are they? What century was it built? How often is it really used, or have they succumbed to (or only appreciated for) historical and aesthetic value?  What was it like to live 1, 2, 300 years ago and have this building be the center of life?  I've lost count of the number I have visited, but this question resonates in my mind, and thus will not stop my interest for visiting them more.

Sunflower fields

Can you see the church steeple center left? It's not the best pic- I am going 175 mph!

Notre Dame, Paris

So I'm on my way to Paris for a day. Why? That's a really great question.  I don't know how jobs seem to just fall in my lap. Not that I'm complaining. Yesterday I got a phone call from a friend of a friend of Jb (my ex in Paris) who was looking for an American to help him with his business. The details are fuzzy, and I'll find out when I get there. He bought my ticket, told me he would pay me a nice lil chunk 'o change, and possibly get me a job in Paris. Um... OKAY! I have decided I want to stay in France, and I would love to stay in Marseilles. There is something about the beach + Vitamin D combo that does wonders for the mentality. Plus the food. And the wine. And Provençal cities.  And the food. And the wine. And the food.... okay- do you get it? But I wouldn’t complain too much if I got a job in Paris. I'm open to anything!

 All countries have their different characteristics and quirks that make them unique, and I have come to know some of these differences in the way of life in France and namely Provence quite well over the past nine months.  Since I spend a lot of my time cooking, I'm often at the outdoor market of Noailles or local grocery store. The buying food process is unlike any I've experienced, and will be the first of many posts on the subject of random differences here in France that I will elaborate on further in my future blogs. 

Fresh veggies at Noailles Market

                          

SO...

Grocery shopping: My brother always made fun of me for bringing my own grocery bags to the store, so I can only imagine how he will react when he sees my little grandma cart on wheels that I take with me to my local supermarket. Here, everyone brings their own bag or little grandma wheely cart, and if not they are charged a few centimes for a plastic sack.

Gma wheely bag

I am in total agreement with this, and think it should be more enforced in the US. We have a 40+ Trillion $ deficit? Charge a damn quarter for everyone who needs a plastic sack at Safeway and that would surely make a dent. My wheely cart comes with me when I'm making my monthly (or bi-monthly) stock-up; otherwise I have a few reusable bags on my arm.  Methodology is absolutely essential when it comes to product placement at the cashier for time of purchase. It's a goddamm race I tell ya! It is absolutely required to strategically place all of your items on the conveyer belt in the order that they will be placed in your sack or grandma wheely cart.

It's all about the strategy...

Because once the products are scanned, they are tossed to the end of the bagging area where it is your responsibly to quickly get your items secured. Then time for payment. If you give them money before you have finished packing your items, the change is set down in said bagging area and the next customer's items are now being placed next to yours in the bagging area queue. <<Hey Pierre watch out- that's my change AND cheese!>> IF you have learned to wait until you have finished bagging your items before giving the cashier a form of payment, you are avoiding the evil eyed stares of the cashier and others waiting in line because of your incompetence to bag your products at the speed of light. One of these days I think I'm going to bring a stopwatch to see just how long it takes the jerk behind me to bag his groceries.

The customer is holding her hand out for her money, but the cashier has already put it down by her groceries.

I have pretty much got the system down. As I mentioned: it’s all about having a pre-planned strategy. Glass products (wine) and other heavy articles go on the belt first, then square products to be stacked in the back of the grandma wheely cart to the left, canned goods on the right. Next stack the veggies, cheese, and other random shaped food stuffs in the room that is left to be topped with the carton of eggs. In Marseille there are several chain grocery stores, and I happen to live by two of the best ones: Casino and Lidl.   

I say "best" because Lidl is cheap and random. They go through over a million products a week, and while there are some staples I can count on, it is not the exact same produce every week. So, I take my list to Lidel, get as much as I can from said list there, systematically pack my grandma wheely cart thing, and then wheel it next door to Casino where I put it behind the service desk with a number and fill in the blanks of my list here. This particular Casino reminds me a bit of Fred Meyers without the home improvement section. They have a little bit of everything, according to French standards, and it took me a few weeks to realize that when my new friends told me they were stopping at the 'Casino' before they came over they weren't referring to their gambling addiction. It's a bit more expensive, but that's what you pay for convenience. The cashiers don't like put your change in your hand, but again, slam it down on the counter or bagging area or on the counter used to write checks. 
<<If you put the money in my hand that I'm holding out for you, I won't have to spend another minute picking it up and avoiding the stares of you and the customers behind me>>

I pick up my grandma wheely cart and roll it home, tuck it away in my closet. I relax with nice glass of rose on my terrace admiring Notre Dame de la Garde in the distance, proud of myself for yet another successful shopping excursion. 

Now, what am I going to make for dinner??