One of the joys of rural France is the ample supply of free open air parking in the towns we have been visiting. Villages really. None of the stress associated with parking in cities where vehicle height restrictions and complex pay and display machines rule the roost. The pay and display machines are no different to those in the UK really when it comes to complexity and difficulty of use.
One bemusing aspect of travelling in France has been the use of English language options when it comes to purchasing things, be they online or at a machine. Quite often only some of the screens have English text and revert into French for some parts of the transaction. This has not caused a problem, yet, but it does raise a smile.
This morning I experienced another issue. On the boulangerie run this morning to pick up the croissants a taxi pulled up in front of the shop. I cadged a business card off the driver and then realised I might as well see if he was free tomorrow evening for our jaunt into the village to dine at L’Artichaut. He told me I needed to ring the office as he didn’t manage the bookings.
Fair enough I thought though the alarm bells should have rung. I only just managed to understand him because of his deep regional French accent. Back at the Manoir I called the office but had to give up as without being there face to face I couldn’t understand a word he was saying. A bit like a Frenchman trying to understand Rab C Nesbitt.
Instead I messaged the caretaker to ask if he would enquire for me. It would be useful to at least know how much the fare would be before booking.
…
Caretaker got back to me. Apaz the taxi company people are on holiday and I was talking to a recorded message. Doh!!!